Where There's Smoke: Chapter Five
A Father And Daughter On The Trail To NH's Fire Towers
Welcome to Week Six, Chapter Five of Where There’s Smoke: On the Trail to New Hampshire’s Fire Towers, a weekly Wednesday publication brought exclusively to subscribers of Day By Day. We hope you enjoy this old is new memoir of a father and daughter’s adventure to all of the Granite State’s active lookouts. And while you all are getting these chapters first and we won’t be sharing across networks, the link is open should you want to share or pass on to someone who you think would be interested in subscribing. Please like and comment and let’s make this run a success!
If you’d like to catch up first, here’s a link to last week’s Introduction and a link to Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three and Chapter Four. See you in the tower!
We Earn Our Patch
#5 Pack Monadnock, Temple
No one told me that all the things I love about her – the fearlessness, empathy toward creatures, willingness to try something new, desire to be equal to those around her – would also be the most terrifying moments of this parenthood ride.
I often find myself torn between facilitating all her positive ability, and constantly pulling her away from the edge. I’m glad she loves animals and feels compassion and kindness toward them, but I can’t just have her just wandering up to every dog she sees. I love that she’s willing to try new foods, but I can’t have her popping any old wild mushroom or berry in her mouth.
And I love that she climbs. Sofas, fences, trees, rocks. This is a peculiar talent, because even though myself and my wife can trace our love for the outdoors back to being babies, we’re not rock climbers. I never had an inclination to tackle a rock face or hurl myself off the sofa and onto floor cushions.
But Uma… not even five and she’s collected a whole host of scars – fat lips, bruised knees, skinned palms and elbows. And I want this to stay – I want her, as I do, to touch a mountaintop rock, basking in the sun, and pull energy from that connection. I want her to go high, literally, every chance she gets, to fearlessly be able to gain a larger, wider view of her world. I want her to make leaps throughout her life – of faith, of studies, in relationships, to test and grow her self-worth.
And so it goes on this, our fifth journey to a fire tower. We are in Miller State Park, having driven up to the summit of 2,288-foot Pack Monadnock. The park today is jammed with hikers and tourists with a busy concession in one corner. Nearly every picnic table is crowded.
But we don’t care because today is special. Today, according to the rules laid out by the New Hampshire Division of Forests and Lands, after tagging five towers, Uma can collect a Fire Lookout Tower Quest Patch. We’ve invited several of our hiker friends to celebrate the occasion and are joined at the bustling summit by Ken, a local hiker and one of the nicest guys on the planet, and David, a power hiker who has brought his son-in-law, Ronnie, and Ronnie’s three kids, Michael, Gabriel and Brianna.
Uma is thrilled to have kids to play with and I watch her blend in, testing herself, pushing the outside boundaries of what she can do, what she’s willing to do. There are so many people at the summit that David pulls Michael aside and says, “You watch her ok, you have her six, got it?” The thirteen-year-old nods and runs off, Uma right at his heels. Michael’s a good kid, funny and curious, and he takes his role seriously. I’m grateful, as it gives me a bit of time to relax and catch up with Ken and David.
Climbing trees and rocks has inspired some of the great philosophers of our time. From Frost’s proclamation that there could be worse things than being a swinger of birches, to Jane Goodall’s famous backyard tree where she would climb to do her homework. From Helen Keller’s “liquid mountains” to Alex Honnold’s free solo philosophy, this is well trodden ground.
And so, there she is skipping over the rocks, swinging on the branches. At one point, Uma skids to a halt in front of a, perhaps, three-foot rock drop off.
“Watch daddy!” she yells. It takes every ounce of physic energy to trust that she can handle the jump, that she is in the moment and aware of her ability. I take the camera out instead and capture her mid-leap, binoculars floating, arms out, her focus intense.
Uma sticks the landing, throws her arms in the air and I’m able to let out a breath. Such a simple action. A child leaping off a sun kissed rock - a microcosm of millions of years of evolution, of the last ice age and of the collective efforts of a brother and sisterhood of parents holding their breath.
I think maybe being up here, watching her leap, is the perfect analogy for every decision she’s made thus far in her young life, and every decision she’ll have to make. Over and over she’ll have to ask, can I handle this? Am I prepared enough? What are the possible outcomes? What is my ultimate goal?
But for now, I don’t want her to worry about those questions. I’ll do the worrying. For now, she has one final job.
“Shall I get the arch ready,” Ken asks with a wink. Ken knows his way around hiker traditions. The earning of a patch upon the completion of a hiking list requires a very particular ceremony.
The adults and three kids line the area in front of the steps leading up to the tower and they all lift their hiking poles and sticks to form an arch.
“What are they doing, daddy,” Uma asks.
I pull her close. “When a hiker is about to earn her patch, all her friends create a tunnel she has to walk through to celebrate such an amazing accomplishment.”
“That’s for me?”
“It is,” I say, “you earned it.”
And so, on the one thousand seven hundred and forty eighth day of her life, Uma strides under that hiking pole arch like it had been a day she was training for all her life. And in some ways, it was. Our companions applaud and my daughter beams, the center of attention, the center of the universe.
Pack Monadnock, Temple (Elevation: 2,288)
Location and Directions: Miller State Park is the oldest state park in New Hampshire, located on the flanks of Mount Monadnock. The primary entrance and parkin area can be found along Route 101 a couple miles east of Peterborough. A 1.3-mile narrow paved road leads to the summit and the fire tower. There are also two primary trails that lead to the summit from the parking area, the Wapack Trail and the Marion Davis Trail. There are also several other trails surrounding the mountains from other directions.
Our Route: We drove up the auto road and parked about 30 feet from the fire tower.
If You Go: Miller State Park is one of the most popular and heavily trafficked state parks in New Hampshire. Going on a holiday will most certainly lead to having to deal with crowds, and possibly a full parking lot. We enjoy people, so loved the energy of such a full summit. If you’d prefer a quieter time, consider an early morning weekday.
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I love the header photo! My husband and I have been to Pack Monadnock a few times. The views are just incredible. We should go back!