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Bear White Knuckles

The Fire Tower Story

By Jaime WinterPublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 8 min read
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"Someday I'm gonna hike up that mountain and climb that fire tower." These were the resolute, determined words of my friend Jim.

We were 13 years old.

Every summer for a good couple of years, I'd go with Jim and his mother Maria up to their cabin in the Catskill Mountains. It was an idyllic setting for an inner city kid like me.

Across from their cabin was the Beaver Kill River. On the other side of the river was Mt. Tremper, a formidable 2,740 foot climb.

For the last few years we made the trip up to the Catskills, Jim would make the same declaration and impassioned plea to his mom, hoping she'd finally let us climb that mountain. Year after year, he petitioned the court to no avail. He always seemed heartbroken and inconsolable after being denied. There was no reason to think that this summer would be any different.

As part owner of the cabin, Maria's brother Carl, Jim's uncle would be up there enjoying his vacation with us. I loved Carl. He was a wellspring of useful and completely useless arcane info. He used to sit on the porch in the morning drinking his coffee and reading magazines. He'd spend the day fly fishing on the Beaver Kill, making minor repairs to the cabin or laying in the hammock.

This year, something different happened. During the usual dead end debate, Carl carefully spoke up and told Maria that it was time. That she needed to let the boys do it. "It would also save me from having to endure this argument every year." Of course Maria blew up at him. She was convinced that it wasn't a good idea and questioned the potential dangers. In her mind, we were still too young to go it alone. At first, she told Carl to go with us. He told her that she was missing the point and that this could be a formative experience that might impact our lives in an important way.

Carl was in the military. I don't know which branch, but I think he was a ranger. He'd forgotten more about the outdoors that most people will ever know. He assured Maria that he would get us all set and arrange for some sort of signal so that she knew we were okay. After a half hour of debate, Maria finally caved in and we were ecstatic.

The plan was to get to the top, climb the tower, camp out on the ridge overnight and start back down in the morning.

Carl did the best he could with what was available. Our gear consisted of two school bookbag daypacks with big fat sleeping bags bungee corded to the bottom of them. We had one change of clothing each, a few rain ponchos, two towels, a couple water bottles, a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

From the porch, he identified a bald spot on the mountain where there were rock outcrops. He gave us a high powered army flashlight that we would use to signal him on the porch. He promised Maria that he would sit out there with a pair of binoculars and watch for us.

We couldn't sleep. The prospect of the next morning's climb was so exciting.

In the early morning hours, Carl started us with a couple bowls of hot maple brown sugar instant oatmeal and did a gear check, then we were off. We waved goodbye to Carl, walked down the steps from the porch and out the gravel driveway to the road.

The first thing we needed to do was cross the Beaver Kill. The water was chest deep, so we wore swim trunks and tried to balance our packs over our heads. The water was pretty cold, but not too bad. Once we made it to the other side, we broke out the towels and dried off as much as we could.

The climb was perilous and interminable. From where we started, there was no trail. We bushwhacked our way up the entire mountain. About half way up, we found a fallen tree that was supported by two other trees coming out of the mountainside at an angle. It was a huge bench where we sat and ate lunch. We sat there exhausted, ate our peanut butter sandwiches and took in the view from well over a thousand feet.

Jim seemed to be getting more excited the closer we got. I had to stop and remind him that we were about to pass the spot where we promised to signal Carl. We broke out the light, aimed it down at the cabin which we could barely see and flashed it the way we were instructed to.

Nothing. No response.

We waited a bit and did it again, twice. Finally, we saw a flash from below. It appeared that we'd been flashing our lights at some other structure a mile or so down the road from the cabin. It's a miracle that he saw our signal at all. Now that was out of the way, we were quickly losing light and still had a bit of climbing to do.

When we finally got to the top, I was completely wiped out, but Jim was shaking in anticipation of realizing his monumental childhood dream. He yelled at me: "Come On!!!" as he dropped his pack and squinched through an opening in the chain link fence surrounding the tower. It was obvious that this had been the entry point for others.

There were big ominous warning signs posted all over the fence that the tower had been decommissioned, was absolutely off limits and scheduled for demolition. Jim paid them no heed and as he took the first steps up the stairs yelled: "Come on!"

I told Jim that I didn't think this was such a good idea, but I dropped my pack, pushed the fence open, walked over to the stairs and hesitantly started the ascent. It was so rusty and rickety. At the middle, I really started to feel the tower shifting in the wind and my nerves were on edge.

It only got worse as I reached the top. The corrugated metal sheets which formed what was left of the dilapidated roof of the look out post rattled loudly in the gusty wind.

Jim was standing there on the post platform, arms outstretched to the sky in a moment of victory and the resplendent realization of his dream.

I was holding onto the railing with white knuckles, scared shitless as the tower shifted about, moaning in an erratic creaky metallic cadence.

The view was spectacular. The Catskill Mountains stretched out before us and what was left of the late day sun streamed through the soft silver lined clouds and remnants of the clear blue sky beyond.

I told Jim that I had to go and turned around to begin the careful descent. He stayed there for a few more moments savoring his accomplishment. Back down at the bottom of the tower, there was a plateau trail that dipped through a saddle between Tremper and another mountain. Carl told us there was a primitive campsite on the other end of the saddle, so we decided to don our packs and start the half mile walk over there.

Although Jim glowed, the both of us were so beat. I took point and stumbled down the trail half asleep. It was a little too late when I noticed two brown fuzzy tree trunks with claws where the roots should be.

I stopped cold, face to face with a pretty big black bear.

The bear and I were in the momentary space of a mere second where decisions would have to be made and Jim, looking down at the trail, walked right into me. I lurched forward a few inches and that's all I had.

At the same time that Jim leaned out to see what was going on, the startled bear stood up on its hind legs, groaned and flailed his front feet about. The both of us looked up at it for a second in sheer terror.

My knees started wobbling and I was frozen with fear. Jim threw himself off the trail behind a tree and the bear landed on all fours, once again face to face with me, let out a short, quickly turned and bolted off the trail into the woods. I passed out cold and fell backwards onto the pack.

The next thing I remembered was Jim slapping me in the face. As I came to, Jim yelled "Holy shit, I thought you were dead!" I'm not too proud to admit that I pissed myself. As he helped me up, I said that I thought I was too. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night.

After that experience, I can't believe I continued to explore the outdoors. There's a lot to be said for going after your dreams and it helps to have a friend who believes in you.

The inside joke, when Jim and I are talking about goals in our adult lives, are the inevitable 'bears' you have to tackle or negotiate along the way. I'm happy to have helped support Jim in his childhood quest and there's nothing like the satisfaction of making your dreams... your reality.

humor
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About the Creator

Jaime Winter

I have a life filled with weird and wonderful experience. I am a writer, a graphic designer and crafter.

I hope you enjoy my stories and my perspective. Much Love, Jaime

Contact: [email protected]

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