Working a lookout tower is, dull. In my time working one I’ve been asked plenty on how it is…it sucks. It’s the outdoorsman’s version of “never meet your heroes”, what seems like a wonderful time watching the wild without a care is instead a desk job with a nice view. Eventually, you get bored of the same clearing and pine moving with the wind over and over, but that isn’t for long.
Tower Three isn’t the worst. Considering I’m stuck in there for a month at a time it’s actually pretty cozy. There’s three of us, three towers all set up in a triangle. There’s a little tiny light just outside the tower, right in front of our desks and we use it to triangulate anything we got to keep an eye on. Your mind will jump to Bigfoot, shadow men or just, a weird ass deer, but it’s mainly just normal shit. We keep track of anything we need to warn Park Service about, or for Tower One to warn service of. They keep the only real line out to HQ so, most of what I do is just, see some animal and call it in to make sure any local paths keep off. Bears, Wolves, all that stuff. But we help out with searches too.
When people lose their way taking a piss, they tend to walk towards the big tower in the sky. I know I would, but we look out for any signs of activity local to us, smoke obviously and if they went missing close enough we act as a base camp for deeper searches. While that’s most of my job, last month just put me over the edge. I used to put up with weird stuff once a shift, even two when I was starting, but I need to get some off my chest.
The first thing that comes to mind Is the local horror story. I’m pretty sure every park or get-away has one and ours is pretty casual, a hidebehind. If you don’t know what this, It’s effectively a monster that hides whenever you look near it, hunting you without you ever knowing. Our story is more of a, warning to the woods, keep near us and not out there. My buddy claimed that’s why so many people go missing. We were organizing a search off of Tower Three for some kid and he casually brought up how he “bet he looked to hard.” I asked him to clarify and he looked down, then around at the woods, leaning in real close. I don’t recall all of it but, this is what I remember:
“There’s things out here that wanna be left alone. Wanna be free to their own shit without us stomping on their stuff. Big cats n’ bears, sure, but there’s more. Things that’ll watch you and don’t wanna be watched back. Might catch a glimpse of them past a tree, or see a shadow, but you got to ignore it and let them go on, else they’ll know you saw ‘em.”
Then, he stood up with a stoic look on his face and grabbed his gear. I’ve never seen him like that. He’d worked far longer then me on normal SAR ops and was always cheerful, even when looking for kids, but he just looked off when he was so serious. I don’t know details but they never found that kid, heard they couldn’t even pick up a basic scent.
My first few shifts hadn’t had anything unnatural, so the first that stands out was when I was pretty well-adjusted. It was nearing midnight and I had been lout on the balcony, casually checking all the lights in the tower when I noticed a few glints, eyes reflecting. You see a lot of em’, nothing too big, but as I checked the lights, they moved.
I noticed It about a half-mile out, really distant, but after a few more checks it had gained some distance. It caught me off guard, but as I looked I assumed it was just, a ton of different birds or something and flicked it again, making my way to the other one and glancing out at it.
As I looked, I could see them, just before the tree line. A few big pines wiggled and waved in the sea of dark, like a storm had blown them, but as I looked down at those eyes they just, unnerved me, but I realized why.
There were too big. The reflection angled and stretched like an oval. I almost thought it was just the lights messing up before the shine itself flickered, like it had blinked. I slowly backed into the tower and kept my eyes on it. I kept all the floodlights on that night, got a stern talking to on their power usage and explained it away by saying that It was in case any missing persons could see the tower. I think I started to believe that but, I don’t look out at night when I don’t need to.
I had been working last month with a pair of vets in the other towers. As my first winter they wanted to ensure I would be comfortable with the shift. Winter really cuts back and, after some legal nonsense, cabin fever was ruled a genuine threat. I’m from a snow-heavy state and it wasn’t too bad, mainly just reading. I recall I was mid-passage before my radio caught me off guard, crackling to life.
“Three, you’ve got a straggler at eleven o’clock, red jacket.”
I stood up from my desk, looking down to see a sea of white, a bright blob of red a few yards from my tower, a jacket. He was clothed head-to-toe for the cold, but without a bag or any sort of gear just, standing there, a trail of footprints following him from the treeline. I quickly grabbed my jacket, walking out onto the balcony and calling out to him. We were miles from any path and common sense tells me that this guy would need help.
He didn’t respond.
I called more, asked if he needed medical aid and said I could get him a ride back.
Still nothing.
I walked down to him and approached, thinking he was having some kind of stroke, but as I got closer I realized he was just…off. He wasn’t moving or breathing, he had one of those skull facemasks and I couldn’t see any breath, nor see any hair under his hat. as my hand hit his shoulder, it caved in. He fell into a pile in the snow, hat, mask, even gloves all packed with powdery white.
A goddamn snowman.
I left the gear, marching to my ham radio and letting out a sarcastic laugh, asking if they got a good view of their little prank. I was met with silence and a question.
“What joke.”
Both denied involvement, saying they’d been in their towers and wouldn’t risk missing something big for something that stupid. I ignored it, stubborn in my position and letting it go, I went back to reading. An hour later, just as the sun started to set, Tower One called over.
“Got a missing skier, our grid.”
“Description?” I asked, expecting a standard vague one.
“Male, mid-thirties, black gear except for a red jacket and a skull-print balaclava,”
My blood went cold. I looked down at the barely-illuminated pile of clothing scattered and partially buried in the snow, the scarlet jacket dragging my gaze. I could barely get my words out.
“Get SAR out here.”
Tower Two began to ask questions, asking If I’d seen a body, a trail, anything that they couldn’t see through their binoculars Tower One didn’t even ask, said they’d be there in a half-hour and tried to calm me down. I remember his words over the radio clearly, even the view of the two towers lit against the night sky through the windows when he said it.
“Just, don’t look at him.”
I cleared with SAR and sheriffs when they arrived, telling them of this snowman appearing and pointing at the trail. They took the gear, followed the prints and after my insistence at being brought back, called up the next worker early. I haven’t heard back from many on the case but, turns out the clothes belonged to a skier at the park’s hills. He’d been showing his girlfriend the basics and had fallen off a lift that went over a brief strip of woodland. It was a small fall and, after she couldn’t find him she called in SAR, where they then called us. Those clothes traveled over thirty miles in a few minutes to reach outside that tower and, I was almost the prime suspect.
I haven’t been told of any findings beyond that, but my schedule shifted from me leaving early and I’m heading up with a hotspot in a few days. I’ll keep you guys updated as I go, answer anything to clear the air and ask whoever’s in the other towers what they’ve seen.