Tourist destination ...

August 2, 2017

Charlie is definitely a dedicated Lookout Dog, and when we arrive at a lookout tower he immediately recognizes it as home, and adopts it as his own. In his eyes, of course, that means keeping vigil at the tower to protect it from intruders. Here at Cyclone, some days that's a full-time job. Charlie sits on the catwalk or up on the lookout bed, watching the trail and listening for the sounds of incoming hikers. He lets off a low growl when he thinks he hears something, and that transforms into a deep, ominous barking when the hikers come into view.

Yesterday, my canine burglar alarm was set off a little before lunchtime, in unprecedented intensity ... there was clearly a crowd approaching. When I went out to the catwalk and looked down a couple minutes later, this was my view:


I'd been invaded by 27 8th graders! They were from all over Montana, out here for a short summer camp sponsored by the Glacier Institute, which is based in the canyon a little south of here. (The camp is designed to introduce the kids to potential outdoor/environmental careers, or something.)

Anyhow, much to Charlie's dismay I invited the kids up into the tower cab in groups of three or four, where I showed them how forest fires are spotted, and introduced them to the life of a lookout. (I'm not certain, but I may have convinced one or two of them to consider this ridiculous career path.) They ate lunch down on the ground, and had an assignment to write about the experience in their journals. And then three of them agreed to help out the lookout by going on a water run for me ... so I gave them an empty water cubie and a backpack, and along with one of the camp counselors they set off for the Cyclone spring, which is about 3/4 of a mile down the mountain:


The kids managed to bring back about three gallons of water, and they were pretty proud of themselves. The kid with the pack said it was a piece of cake, because he helps his dad pack out murdered elk during hunting season. (I don't think he used the word "murdered," though. :-)

Charlie was very happy to watch the kids and their counselors head back down their trail, abandoning their brief occupation of his home.


I figured that was it for the day ... the weather was hazy and unsettled, and not the best for hiking. But Charlie's burglar alarm went off again not long after I finished dinner, and soon we saw another dozen hikers heading up the trail. It was an informal hiking group from the Flathead Valley -- they'd apparently connected via Instagram -- and they'd decided they were going to have a dinner party at Cyclone Lookout. They'd brought camp stoves and pasta and cookies and beer, and they invited me to join them. Since I'd already eaten I skipped the pasta, but did help them consume the cookies and beer.

I wasn't necessarily in the mood to host last night, but they turned out to be a fun group, interesting to talk to. They were thoroughly awed with the lookout and the view, and spent much time shooting pictures with expensive DSLRs. The photographers acted like paparazzi around Charlie, and I suspect there will be a dozen adorable new portraits of him on the Internet this morning. Charlie, of course, was not amused by that. :)

Anyhow, it turned out to be a fun evening. The group stuck around to watch the sun set over the Whitefish range, and then headed off into the dusk, headlamps at the ready. Here's the photo I took of them:


So it was a record traffic day for me: 27 kids, three counselors, and 12 yuppies. Today, the valley is cloudy and cool, so I'm thinking it will probably be a lot quieter up here. I know Charlie hopes so!