Destination: Colorado : Above It All : Former lookout tower becomes a private penthouse with a stilted view of life

SAN JUAN NATIONAL FOREST, Colo. — When my husband, stepson and I set out for the Jersey Jim Lookout Tower, we anticipated having remarkable views to gaze at, lush forests to explore and a comfortable “cab” to sleep in, 55 feet above the ground.

We found all those things. But no one had warned us about the cows.

There they were, a bovine welcoming committee of more than 50, grazing and milling around the base of the tower. We got out of the van and mooed at them, and they ambled off, only to return and surround the tower once we had settled into our rustic penthouse suite. Eventually, the cattle shuffled away, no doubt bound for greener pastures, and we had Jersey Jim to ourselves.

The Jersey Jim tower, in a clearing in the San Juan National Forest about 30 miles from Durango--and only about 50 miles from the Four Corners--is one of about two dozen lookout towers and lookout cabins that are for rent in the nation’s national forests. In their heyday, the lookouts were essential to fire prevention, and fire watchers occupied them around the clock, scanning the horizon with binoculars for any unexplained puff of smoke or suspicious “haze.” Today, the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Forest Service is gradually phasing out the lookout tower system in favor of airplane surveillance and computerized lightning-detection systems--and the historic towers began opening to adventuresome travelers in the 1980s. Jersey Jim was renovated and rented out beginning in 1991, although it hadn’t been used for year-round fire lookout since the ‘70s.

The Forest Service also rents out lookout cabins, moored firmly in the ground, and since they’re above the timberline, the views are equally spectacular. Snow Camp Lookout in the Siskiyou National Forest in Oregon, for example, is 4,223 feet above sea level. From it you can see not only the peaks of the Klamath Mountains but also the Pacific Ocean.

Not all the lookouts are easy to get to, however. Squaw Peak Lookout Cabin, above the Clark Fork River in Montana’s Kootenai National Forest, is accessible only by a five-mile hike (although the first 2 1/2 miles are four-wheel-drive accessible). The cabin has been in use for more than 80 years and is still manned during the summer, so it is only available for rent from October through June.

Jersey Jim, the only lookout tower for rent in Colorado, stands at nearly 10,000 feet, and all four walls of the cab--the little house on top of the wood stilts--are lined with windows. Though climbing five steep flights of stairs at that altitude was not amusing, especially with luggage, the reward--a 360-degree panorama of mountains, meadows, forest and sky--was worth every step.

Talk about a room with a view. From our perch, we gazed out on glimmering Jackson Lake and the snowcapped San Juan Mountains, some of which soar above 14,000 feet. It was a four-state view: Far in the distance were hulking Ship Rock in New Mexico, the sharp peaks of the Chuska Mountains in Arizona and Utah’s Blue Mountain. At our feet were towering pines and aspens and a wildflower-flecked pasture.

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With its linoleum floor and authentic furnishings, the cab made me feel as if I had stepped into an old, black-and-white TV show. When we were there, the summer before last, the furniture consisted of a single bed (now double) with drawers underneath, a table and chairs, shelves and a large cabinet. The cab had no indoor plumbing, only a dry sink with a portable toilet down on the ground. (An outhouse now graces the ground below.) There was no electricity, and propane fueled the small refrigerator, heater, range and lamps--as it still does.

Previous tenants had left behind rolls of paper towels, garbage bags, dish soap and clean, fresh water. We appreciated the water; the stuff we’d toted in from the hand pump four miles down the road tasted “like pennies,” as my stepson put it.

Among Jersey Jim’s amenities were a hoist and a pulley, with a plastic milk crate attached at the end of the rope. By turning the crank and carefully balancing the load, we could haul up sleeping bags and other provisions, saving a few trips on the stairs.

We worried that the 15-year-old would be bored in the tower. After all, no electricity meant no television. But he immediately made himself at home on the one bed (my husband and I got the floor), and soon went off to explore the woods. We’d been there only a few hours when he announced that he wanted to spend his (far-off, it is hoped) honeymoon at Jersey Jim.

The San Juan Forest has dozens of hiking trails, and, after stowing our gear and setting up housekeeping on this July day, we headed out into the woods just east of the tower. Biting flies greeted us as soon as we entered the thick of the forest; not even extra doses of insect repellent could keep them totally at bay. We followed directions left by a previous camper in the logbook and found a small pond nearby, rimmed by cattails and tall grasses. It had snowed in June, but already it was in the mid-70s, clear and sunny. Shorts weather.

Lloyd McNeil and Kay Zillich, tower volunteers who also work for the Forest Service, paid a visit one afternoon (at our request); we were glad to see that they, too, huffed and puffed after climbing the 72 steps. They showed us how to use the cab’s old fire finder, called an alidade, to pinpoint the location of a fire. And they answered our most important questions:

* Why do the windows have bullet holes in them? During the previous winter, while the tower was closed (it’s open from Memorial Day to the middle of October), several marksmen apparently had used Jersey Jim for target practice.

* What’s with the cows? They’re trespassers from a neighboring ranch. Jersey Jim, the rangers explained, was named for its location on the Jersey Jim Flats, which, in turn, was named for the Jersey cows that had grazed there for years.

* Is this place really safe during a lightning storm? Yes, because everything is grounded.

Zillich and McNeil are both members of the Jersey Jim Foundation, the nonprofit group that raised money to save the tower and now maintains it.

“They were going to sell it or dismantle it,” McNeil said. “One member wanted to move the tower south to Mancos,” he said. “But they wouldn’t have been able to move this view down.”

The view is one of the tower’s attractions, but there’s another that’s just as enticing: its solitude. You have time to think or not think, to do or not do. It’s hard to worry about the economy or being replaced by a computer when you’re 55 feet above the ground in the middle of wilderness. Our most strenuous in-cab activity was playing gin rummy.

We spent many minutes looking down at the sky-blue mountain bluebirds (how often do you get to look down at birds?) and later discovered their nest in a nook just under the cab. Violet-green swallows and white-throated swifts, residents of the tower’s two birdhouses, darted through and around Jersey Jim’s legs. One morning a deer grazed at the forest’s edge. Not an unusual animal; still, it was nice to see one where it was supposed to be instead of loping through a suburban back yard.

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When the wind blew strongly, as it did during most of our two-day stay, the cab swayed, and any movement on the stairs made it vibrate. The elevation allowed some unusual weather conditions for July. It was possible to get a sunburn while sitting inside the cab, since we were surrounded by clear glass. On the other hand, the air on the catwalk outside was quite cool, and the nights were in the low 40s. The wood catwalk is only about two feet wide with mesh wiring between the floor and two waist-high boards that form a railing all around.

We read the visitors’ log. It told us of other adventures at Jersey Jim. Entries mentioned a blizzard in June, elk sightings and romantic dinners for two. “I feel like an eagle perched on a nest,” wrote one visitor. “Don’t anybody ever let any ‘developer’ know about this,” wrote another.

As the logbook made obvious, visitors are inspired with feelings of fondness for the old tower. One guest even donated a coffee pot to the cab, engraved with the words, “In Memory of Jersey Jim.”

“People have been really good about cleaning it up,” Zillich told us.

Other reading material in the cab included an old handbook for lookout rangers, an employees’ log and the transcript of an interview with Verna Del Porter, who lived and worked in the tower for 20 years, until 1970. When asked why her stint at Jersey Jim featured a constant stream of visitors, she told the interviewer: “They were all interested in getting up there and looking. Everyone likes to get up high and look.”

She understood that towers appeal to a desire common in many people, to see “to the ends of the Earth.” In her day, you could see all the way to Monument Valley, about 200 miles west. Pollution has shortened the vista, but it still seems endless.

The 12-mile drive along gravel forest road to reach the tower, best taken slowly, would have been worth it just for the sunsets we witnessed. The first afternoon, as the sun’s rays slanted at sharper and sharper angles, the sudden frantic chirping of birds announced the approaching dusk, and the sunset seemed to last forever--the deep rose and purple lingering in the sky long after the sun was gone.

And the show didn’t stop at nightfall. We turned out the whispering propane lights and star-gazed. Away from city lights as we were, the sky was coal-black and positively littered with twinkling stars, so uniformly bright that it was nearly impossible to distinguish the constellations. Distant towns glittered like diamonds, with the odd ranch or farmhouse twinkling on its own.

The next night we were treated to a lightning show off toward Utah, the vivid electric flashes contrasting with the serene beauty of the sky overhead. It seemed a shame to waste any of our tower time on sleep, but fatigue finally won out. Later that night, we were awakened by a huge spotlight moon shining into the windows, assuring us that even in our dreams, we’d know where we were.

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GUIDEBOOK: On the Watchtower

Getting there: From Denver, take Interstate 70 west to Grand Junction, Colo.; from Grand Junction, take U.S. 50 south, which turns into U.S. 550, to Durango. From Durango, take U.S. 160 west to the town of Mancos. (The drive from Denver to Mancos is about eight hours.) Jersey Jim is 14 miles north of Mancos, via Forest Road 561, about another 40 minutes’ drive.

Where to stay: The Jersey Jim Fire Lookout Tower may be rented for one or two nights from Memorial Day to mid-October. The tower rents for $45 per night and sleeps four. No children under 8 are allowed. For information, contact the Jersey Jim Foundation, P.O. Box 1032, Mancos, Colo. 81328; telephone (970) 533-7060.

The National Forest Service rents lookouts in several Western states. To receive a free “Recreational Cabin & Lookout Directory,” write Lookout Information, USDA Forest Service, P.O. Box 96090, Washington, D.C. 20090-6090. (They prefer written queries to telephone calls.) The program is very popular, so you’ll probably have to make reservations months in advance. Our family was able to book two July nights in the spring, but they were the last two nights available for the season.

Rates for towers and cabins range $15-$45 per night. Each lookout sleeps between two and eight people. Accommodations vary from site to site, but most include a propane or wood stove, propane lamps, refrigerator, cot, table and chairs, shelves or a cabinet and a dry sink. None of the lookout towers or cabins has drinking or cleaning water, so you must bring your own. None have indoor plumbing, but outhouses are located nearby. Some of the cabins are wheelchair accessible.

The ranger districts will send you information on what to bring as well as detailed directions to the site. Some towers, including Jersey Jim, can be driven to on service roads, but many others require that visitors hike or ski in, with distances from parking varying from a few hundred yards to 10 miles. The Forest Service will advise you on special circumstances; for example, one Idaho forest warned: “Grizzly bear country; caution advised,” and directions to a Montana tower noted that the trail is susceptible to avalanches.

Other information you need to know includes the maximum length of stay, driving restrictions (e.g., whether the road can handle low-clearance vehicles), and whether or not the lookout allows children.

--D.L.