Chris Morgan, fire prevention specialist and information officer, far left, talks with Wayne Rhoten, John Amos, Pam Rhoten and Dave Raiman on the catwalk at Copernicus Peak Fire Lookout during a volunteer training session.
Guy Martin learns to use the Osborne firefinder as, from left, Wayne Rhoten, Dave Raiman and Pam Rhoten watch at Copernicus Peak Fire Lookout during a volunteer training session.
On a clear day, volunteers perched in a fire tower atop Mount Hamilton can see all the way to the famous face of Half Dome, 160 miles away in Yosemite National Park.
Contrary to the popular belief that back to school means the end of fire season, officials are reminding Californians of the deadly October fires that claimed hundreds of thousands of acres and dozens of lives over the last two decades. In an effort to fortify its arsenal of fire prevention strategies, Cal Fire reopened the Copernicus lookout this year. Built in 1938 by the Civilian Conservation Corps, the Copernicus fire tower stood empty for 17 years, until now.
Furnished with a bed, a miniature refrigerator and various Smokey Bear memorabilia reminding volunteers that "only you can prevent forest fires," the quaint, 200-square-foot wooden box stands 4,360 feet above sea level on the tallest peak in 13 surrounding counties, a neighbor to the Lick Observatory. On red flag days, two of the 10 Copernicus volunteers make the treacherous trek up Mount Hamilton Road, climb the stairs to the tower - so steep they're almost a ladder - slip a pair of binoculars around their necks and start searching for smoke.
"We're a distinctly odd group of people," said John Amos, a retired San Jose hardware engineer. "If not, we wouldn't be doing this."
The Cal Fire volunteers, or VIPs - Volunteers in Prevention, staff the tower from 8 a.m. to aircraft cutoff time, about 8 p.m., on days that are windy, dry and hot, when the likelihood of fire is high. They scan a snakelike pattern up the mountains every 15 minutes. While a fire on a ridge can be handled, a burn at the base of a mountain is bad news, said Chris Morgan, a state fire prevention specialist. When the volunteers spot a burn, they use an antique Osborne Firefinder to pinpoint the fire's coordinates. The compasslike device is in every fire tower across the country, Morgan said, and has a tendency to attract odds and ends like a coffee table. He scolded his volunteers for leaving assorted water bottles, reading glasses and debris on the mechanism during a volunteer training.
They peer through a peephole and align the fire with a delicate set of crosshairs, allowing them to make a crude estimate of the fire's location with the help of their knowledge of the local topography. Their job requires them to be expert eyeballers. When another tower opens in San Joaquin County, Cal Fire volunteers will be able to pinpoint the source of the fire down to the one-eighth of a mile. Once the volunteers help Cal Fire home in on the source, they provide firefighters with constant updates from their bird's eye view.
Aug. 29, volunteers spotted a fire at East Dunne Avenue near Finley Ridge north of Henry Coe State Park. Firefighters contained the wildfire after it burned three acres.
Nearing the end of a fire season that claimed the lives of 13 firefighers and 1.2 million acres in Northern California, Morgan said the volunteer program pays for itself. About 2,800 volunteers staff the state program and Morgan is looking for more. The $270,000 annual budget that supports the program statewide is a drop in the bucket compared to the millions in damage wreaked by the fires.
"I do this because I like to feel like I'm contributing to something bigger than myself," said Guy Martin, a Morgan Hill software engineer who lost a friend in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and was moved to become a part of the emergency response team. "If we can prevent two big fires, the program pays for itself."
The tower is surrounded by a narrow catwalk and large plate glass windows that afford an awe inspiring view with vistas of downtown San Francisco, Monterey Bay and the Sutter Buttes punctuated by a hawks circling the structure. The birds inhabited the tower's roof and aren't pleased when they have company. The tower's tidy, sage green cabin was strewn with chairs and snacks the day of the volunteer training. Volunteers learned a few life-saving lessons. When they step onto the catwalk, they're confronted with sensory overload and walking backwards around the deck could mean a several hundred foot tumble.
Volunteers also risk electrocution if they use a chair that doesn't have glass insulated feet. When lightning is one of the primary causes of wildfires, volunteers are on the lookout during dangerous conditions. Sitting in a chair outfitted with glass feet could mean the difference between life and death.
"We might be scared to death but at least we're safe," Amos said.
The tower stands as a piece of history and a reminder of how the community has come together over the years to prevent fire, Morgan said. Like air tankers and maintaining defensible space, lookout towers are a crucial weapon in proactive fire fighting.
Sara Suddes Sara Suddes is the education reporter for South Valley Newspapers. Send her an email or (408) 847-7158.
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