Forty years ago, 1975, about this day, I had just committed to my summer job.
I wasn’t 18 so I couldn’t work in the woods.
My ole man got me a position as a grounds keeper/go-fer and relief lookout with the DNR in Forks. It was either that or spending my second summer with the 20-man fire crew at the Clearwater Honor Camp.
Spending two (mid-week) nights away from Forks weekly sounded better than full time at the Clearwater.
So the Tuesday after graduation, I took off to Sekiu Mountain.
“Go pick up Ted at the lookout and take him to Clallam Bay, and go back to the tower.” That was the first instruction.
“On Thursday, go back to Clallam Bay, get Ted take him to the Mountain and c’mon back to Forks”
Was the only other.
With the Red 1967 International Travelall, a map and my gear I took off.
Ol’ Ted (Olson?) retired Coast Guard, had spent many years as a fire lookout, many summers alone on the top of some isolated hill, watching, waiting and reporting on weather. He gave me the basics of the fire finder in the middle of the room.
Then showed me the radio and ran through a transmission so I could get the idea of that requirement. Few other instructions (The weather station devices and reporting, the stove, lights, crapper and something about a flyby everyday around 6 p.m., from Crown Zee). He had me radio out to Forks, “Sekiu Mountain to Olympic Base.”
Ms. Joutsen answered back, “Go ahead Sekiu Mt.” “Over.”
“Heading to Clallam Bay. I will be out of the tower for 90 minutes,” I reported. “Over.”
Thanks Sekiu, call in when you are back.” “Over.”
“10-4.” “Sekiu out.”
Ted and I talked for the 30 minutes to on the way to CB and I dropped him off at the tavern just in time for lunch.
Back to the lookout I went.
Forty-six hours of solitary ahead.
CKLG on the FM radio, the Straits and Vancouver Island to the North, Lakes Ozette and Dickey to the south, the Pacific to the west the Olympics to the east.
Sure beat thinning saplings with a bow saw in the Sollecks with the Clearwater crew.
Got my weather report out at 5 p.m. and said goodnight to Ms. Joutsen “over and out”
Turned off the radio at six, five minutes later got buzzed by a small plane.
Woah!
After the third week Ted told me to leave the radio on until after the Crown Zee plane went by, I missed that part of the instructions I guess.
I got to watch the fog roll off the ocean and envelop everything but the tower. Night views above the clouds with Mount Olympus reflecting the moonlight. Mornings were similar with the west end valleys socked in.
A lightning and thunderstorm traveled down the center of the Straits one night, not close at all, but I spent most of my time watching it standing on the glass insulated little stool. Once it passed to the east I felt better.
Ted told me of a night when the tower got hit and he shared a half second with a lightning bolt as it hit the fry pan on the stove and the corner where the grounding rod was in the wall.
Woah!
One late afternoon I saw dozens of crows hop by. It seemed an hour passed while one or two at a time moved tree to tree past the tower.
Had a day where the bug hatch filled the windows with flying insects by the thousands.
Caught a smoke rising one day, called in and let Forks base ( I think Deb Goos was on the other end that day) know where and what I saw. I think it was my ole man checking to see if I paid attention to the fire finder instructions. I reported Azmuth OK, distance OK, no wildfire.
Mark Norbistrath was my only visitor that summer; he rode in on his dirt bike all the way from Beaver. Thanks Norby.
I went down to pick up Ted that first Thursday,
“Stop at the hardware store,” he says as we headed out.
I can’t say I enjoyed his selection of hardware but did find out that he had a stash of Monarch whiskey which needed replenishing weekly.
Had a few pulls off the fifth with him, but never took more than offered, I knew the value he put on that low dollar whiskey in that out of the way place.
He showed me how to load his black powder rifle. Of course I took a shot one day. He never mentioned the stick I poked through the hole in the crapper wall.
I turned 18 and went to college that fall, never had to work as a minor again. The rest of my Forks jobs were typical to the day, shake bolt cutting, shake packing and a little mushroom picking.
I left in 1978; married with kids I came back and saw the tower at the museum in the nineties, probably our 20th class reunion, had to take the family in.
I spoke with the info desk attendant and she told me this interesting story of how this tower came to land in Forks. Correct me if you know differently.
There was another tower just south of the Hoh on Mount Octopus. Not far from the Olympic Corrections Center (We knew it as the Clearwater Honor Camp). In the 1970s the Clearwater Honor Camp closed and was operated by the DNR as a fire base with us non (convicted) criminals living there. A 20-man fire crew was based there every summer, as well as the three man pump truck crews and the timber cruisers that came in and out. In 1974, I was up there with Hanify, Sullivan, Borde, Gockerell, Markham and others. We had a good summer and fought real fires several times. (A nice break from the thinning and trail building, until Hanify and I got chased from our position by 20-foot flames when the fire burnt the hoses between us and the truck. Scary as hell, really.)
In the eighties, the prison was re-opened so that was the end of the summer fire crews stationed up there.
We would see Mount Octopus from the road and the tower standing tall at the top. When the talks about a timber museum began, I’m sure the directors/volunteers knew a lookout tower would be a great exhibit.
She told us the intended tower at Mount Octopus was carefully dropped to the ground by the convicts and after they left for the day smoke was seen on the mountain — by the time anyone made it back to the top, that Lookout was destroyed. I’m sure it was a spectacular sight from the corrections center watching the flames light up the night sky.
Not sure who was contracted to get the Sekiu Mount lookout to the ground and set up in Forks, but guessing probably not the same cons from the Olympic C.C.
What a great story to hear, as I didn’t realize that the lookout tower just outside was the same one that I had spent time in as a younger man. As the Mount Octopus tower was not manned in the years I lived in Forks, it was a better feeling for me to have the last manned lookout tower from the West End as the survivor on display. And also Ted had been the last full-time lookout serving the West End. I still selfishly thank the cons who “carefully prepped” the Mount Octopus tower.
That visit to the museum also gave me a chance to pay respects to some school friends who are memorialized there.
We all miss those taken early and the thoughts of the lives we remember with them always end with good memories.
Jim Blair, RIP, was a good friend; we will miss his smile again at this year’s 40-year reunion.
So, how about it Class of 1975? Time to show some love for the Forks Timber Museum and the Loggers Memorial.
Not just for the needed repairs to the lookout tower, but for the spirit and soul of those who built our hometown and who live on in the stories and memories on display at the Forks Timber Museum.
Mike Drovdahl
Camas, WA
FHS Class of 1975
Go Spartans!
