A TRIP ON THE APACHE NATIONAL FOREST 



1057 



ON THE WAY TO THE SUMMIT 



The pack train loaded with supplies crossing the White Mountains, 

 Apache National Forest. 



later, also higher, for we were then getting about 8,000 

 feet above sea level, yellow pine and their babies, the 

 "black jacks," straight, commanding, and the leaves 

 rustling in the cool June breeze. Our ponies stopped to 

 refresh themselves from a cool mountain stream as they 

 neared the mountain foothills. We then came to a won- 

 derful open meadow. To our left the snow-clad "Baldy," 

 to our right and in front of us interesting knolls. On 

 one, the ever-vigilant fire guard. We signalled to him 

 in passing. After crossing the mountain meadow, we 

 started to climb the real mountain, "Baldy," entering 

 groves of cork bark fire, blue spruce and aspen nodding 

 to us from an old burn. 



Ascending to an altitude of 11,476 feet, we came, in a 

 tiny open park, upon Uncle Sam's ever-welcome sign that 

 he is on guard, the flag, floating from a pole attached to 

 the lookout cabin. It is bachelor headquarters, but no 

 woman could have her house cleaner. A tiny stove, 

 shelves for "chuck" and dishes, aspen poles for a bed- 

 stead and spruce boughs for a mattress. Here the guard 

 spends two months from June 1 to August 1. 



We left our horses and climbed through snow drifts 

 6 feet deep to the summit where we found the guard 

 scanning the country for any possible smoke. A pro- 

 tractor is on top to give readings of any fire and its loca- 

 tion into the supervisor's office by phone. 



"What was that?" 



"Is that smoke?" 



A quick survey through the glasses, a squint through 

 the needle of the protractor, located the fire at 1.30. 

 Rushing to the telephone, the guard called up other look- 

 out points to ascertain cross readings. Then he tele- 

 phoned in to the office. He ascended the summit to keep 

 the office posted. (The lookout guard reports fires, the 

 patrolman goes to them.) 



We rushed to our horses, went down in twenty min- 

 utes what it had taken us over an hour to climb, "Rastus" 

 ready to kick at anyone and anything for making him 

 hurry. We reached the fire, a distance of 10 miles. 

 Found campers had left their noon fire without extin- 

 guishing it. Saddles, beds, "chuck," everything gone. 

 The patrolman had been notified, so with combined ef- 

 forts it was put out after twenty acres had burned. The 



OPPOSITE BLUE RIDGE RANGER STATION 

 One of the big bluffs on the Apache National Forest in Arizona. 



supervisor on looking up, noticed a sign that had evi- 

 dently escaped the notice of the campers : 



"Extinguish Your Match, Cigarettes 



AND Pipe Ashes. 



Help Prevent Forest Fires." 



The campers shared our chuck and beds. It was neces- 

 sary to enter a trespass case against them according to 

 law. I doubt if they leave a fire again with even warm 

 coals. 



In the meantime, I had almost forgotten our friend, 

 the tenderfoot. He was grumbling, peevish and wanted 

 to return. The ride was too much for him, he had seen 

 enough, ridden too much. So, the next day, "Rastus" in 

 the lead, we started for home, the landscape oiTering 

 rare pictures to be taken, but our friend was headed, as 

 "Rastus," for home and a sure-enough bed. 



PAT KXOLE fire LOOKOUT TOWER 



