A range of different perspectives from a Montana fire lookout

August 22, 2010|Brian Schott, Globe Correspondent

WERNER PEAK, Mont. — Getting above it all, staying at a historic fire lookout perched at 6,960 feet on the spine of this mountain, is a fine way to snuff the stresses of life.

A few weeks back, I called the Montana Department of Natural Resources and Conservation and booked our stay at this site, which has been manned by firefighters since 1914. While modern technology and airplane surveillance take on larger roles for spotting flames in remote regions, lookouts are no longer used as an active resource for fire detection, except during extreme fire conditions.

Montana has 21 fire lookouts for rent through the US Forest Service, but this is the first state-owned lookout for rent and I felt lucky to reserve a weekend with my wife, Lyndsay, and her friend Sabine and Sabine’s daughter Naya, 10.

At the Land Office in Kalispell, I was given a detailed map and the combination to open the heavy metal gate 200 yards below the lookout, then similar codes to gain access to the catwalk and the lock on the door.

Have you ever eaten sushi at the top of a mountain? We did. I ordered take-out in Whitefish, the ski town at the base of the Whitefish Range, and then drove up here near sunset, bumbling along 12 miles of dirt roads north of Whitefish Lake, then six miles to the summit. Any car with decent tires can make it — and although I would recommend a hearty auto, Sabine drove her low-clearance Honda. While unnerved by some of the exposed drainage pipes, she made it without a glitch.

Expecting rustic and ready for anything, we were surprised by the interior — newly tiled floors, fresh mattresses, sparkling appliances, including stove, oven, and fridge — and all for $35 a night for up to four people, ages 10 and over. There are two twin beds and two fold-out cots. You have to bring your own water, but for mountain-top living, this was pretty sweet.

It seemed surreal to have our cars parked outside this shelter on the edge of a cliff. I have lived in the mountains for nearly two decades and this was as dramatic a view as I have seen. A huge rock slide falls away from the summit to the northeast looking toward the peaks of Glacier National Park and the Canadian Rockies (we were 25 miles from the border as the proverbial crow flies). A turn of the head and we were gazing at the spine of a mountain ridge. Turn again and we were looking down into a lush glacial valley 3,000 feet below.

While we celebrated our perch with raw fish and red wine, Naya spotted a thunderstorm rolling toward us and said, “Wow! Look at the clouds on top of the mountain! We’re in the clouds!’’

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