[Day 14] Mangas Lookout

“We have an active fire situation,” the spotter yelled at me. “Come on up.”

After a 2000-foot, 4-mile climb to see the sunset atop Mangas Mountain, my heart was thumping. I was already ecstatic for the panoramic view, but a view from the tower with an active fire was icing on the cake.

I climbed the three flights of stairs to the top of the 100 year old forest service tower. Patrick, the spotter who resides on the top of the mountain working two week shifts in the middle of Apache National Forest, pointed south towards a smoke array maybe 20 miles away. I picked his brain aggressively over fire situations and operations as we listened to public services scramble hotshots, DC10 tankers, and helicopters before the setting sun.

Just before the sun set over the horizon, a DC10 tanker dropped on the fire. Hotshots out of Silver City were in route, and those out of Gila wouldn’t arrive until the morning. Communications were crackled and limited; Patrick was operating two measly handhelds on the federally reserved 162-174MHz bands. Not to mention, the repeaters in the area were down, further degrading the distance of communication. Fox Mountain Lookout, some 100 miles south, was inaudible. But, through simplex communication, Patrick was relayed the call to man his guard.

We talked for nearly two hours over sunset on a variety of topics — fires, New Mexico, politics, the trail. One theme from the conversation was the often inconsiderate and aggressive nature of our federal government, especially with regard to the USFS. Nearly 35% of the land in New Mexico is federally owned, and the government has many incidents of poor management and abuses. In one instance, the USFS went in with helicopters equipped with thermal cameras and performed an aerial slaughter of some 80 cows, leaving the carcasses to rot in the wilderness. There may have been good environmental reason for the cows removal, but there might be a simpler, less-wasteful solution than burning jet fuel and flinging bullet to allow fields of meat to rot in the wild. He told me about an instance where a USFS controlled burn — that was reported to be out for nearly a month — reignited, joined forces with another “controlled” burn, and destroyed a few hundred long-time generational ranches. It was yet another case of federal intention dealing havoc on small-community New Mexico.

Patrick had a fascinating background. He grew up in Albuquerque, raised by a father with a Phd in mechanical engineering and masters in electrical and aerospace engineering who worked for UNM and for EG&G out of Area 51. His mother had some eight degrees ranging for a bachelors in math to an associates in Japanese culture; she worked for Sandia National Lab in demolition. Patrick served a 24 year career in the USAF, worked as a cop in Washington state, and now works seasonally as a USFS spotter in retirement. He asked his mother about his father’s work after his passing, and she — holding a higher security clearance than his father — could not share. If people of such advanced education are so avowed to keeping safe the secrets of the Area 51, I am convinced it contains work that is of utmost importance to national and global security.

Anyway, regarding the rest of the day, I was up and rolling around 7am. I cruised an alternate route along Govina Canyon which had a nice gentle stream. Much stream leaping and off-trail travel was involved for a five or so miles.

After about 17 miles, I crossed New Mexico Highway 12 to find “trail magic” (when a trail enthusiast usually sets up a rest stop with food and drink for hikers) across the highway. Kevin and Cathy accommodated with a stellar steak quesadilla and Cokes, and I was insatiably grateful for their generosity of time and resource.

Just before heading out, a hunter by the name of Dwayne Frost rolled in on his tricked out ATV. We talked for a while. He was out turkey hunting, but only came across two momma bears and some trophy elk.

This food gave me a second wind. I hopped on the Pie Town Alternate, a dirt road walk route that provided water, a lookout at 9600 feet, and a ranch stop. Plus, a few old timer CDT hikers who have done every inch of trail recommended it over the defined trail. There were a good many hunters to count out on the forest service roads. If I didn’t see them, I could hear them.

I hauled another 14 miles. I ended up atop Mangas Mountain, camped under the stars and a bright moon, reflecting on another stellar day on the CDT.

Signing off,

Zeppelin