Where There's Smoke: Chapter Nine
A Father And Daughter On The Trail To NH's Fire Towers
Welcome to Week Ten, Chapter Nine 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, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven and Chapter Eight. See you in the tower!
Parade of Life, or Not All Hikes Are Peaceful
#9 Blue Job, Strafford
Chaos doesn’t give you any warning of its arrival. And it takes many forms.
The half-mile, rooty hike to the Blue Job tower in Strafford feels different, like we have turned a corner as a hiking team. The weather is perfect, one of those mild, azure sky days with a strong enough breeze to keep the bugs at bay.
But neither of us, it seems, feel particularly strong. And despite it being a Tuesday morning, the trail is heavy with dogs and families. The woods are rushed today.
Days like that, your legs feel heavy and the pull to turn back and get ice cream instead is strong.
Even worse, and oddly, Uma is unable to find any daddy long legs, a disappointment that leaves her puzzled.
“Where did they all go,” she says as we attain the summit after an otherwise uneventful hike. “Why are they hiding?”
“Maybe they’re tired too, baby,” I say. “Not every hike is perfect, but we made it and we have the summit to ourselves!”
I had to jinx us of course.
Moments after we’ve tucked under the tower to unroll our picnic of PB&J, strawberries, cukes and chocolate, an enormous hiking group storms the summit. There are six adults, three kids and three dogs. Another couple shows up at the same time from another trail, with another dog, and all the animals and humans burst into a frenzy of barking and shouting.
The moment is so jarring, I scoop up our lunch and move us to the back part of the tower, away from the stairs and the commotion. On one hand, Uma loves dogs. On the other, she scrambles onto my lap and pulls my arm over her shoulder, a signal to me to offer her shelter.
“It’s ok,” I say. I have to speak close into her ear because the barking is so loud. “We’ll just hang back until everyone moves on. We’re fine.”
And we are fine, of course. The hikers mean no harm and the dogs eventually are pulled apart. The kids are older than Uma, so she wants nothing to do with them. The hikers take turns climbing up to the highest platform, the tower creaking, the collar bells on the dogs jangling.
At just over 1,300 feet, Blue Job (pronounced Jobe) isn’t terribly high, but due to its proximity to the southern coast of the state, Blue Job is an important link in the New England tower system. On a clear day, a warden could see the John Hancock building in distant Boston. It’s also one of the oldest, a tower having existed here in various forms since 1915.
But this morning, my daughter is uncharacteristically uninterested in the hikers or the history, so I turn my back to the ruckus and focus on our lunch, and time goes by as it does on a mountain. Eventually, the people wander away, and the mountain remains, as always.
Like a roly-poly, Uma starts to open up again. We climb the tower, nearly running up the thin stairs in an almost state of relief. The wind above the trees is wild and my daughter smiles finally, the weight of social anxiety finally dropping away. We can’t see Boston, but we can see clear to the ocean.
We take our time, giving this place of steel and leaves a chance to refill our tanks. Maybe the summer is moving too fast. Maybe her little legs are just tired. Maybe I should have packed more chocolate. Maybe I’m just taking the wrong approach.
“Take a look over here, Uma.” On one of the foundation blocks, a small, fuzzy caterpillar is inching its way up the concrete. But my daughter sees more.
“Look daddy,” she points. “And there. And there!”
We count. There are six identical caterpillars moving slowly up the block, their fuzz bristling in the breeze.
“All those people left and they came out,” she says.
And I think of Maya Angelou’s quote, “This is a wonderful day. I’ve never seen this one before.”
As it turns out, we discover later that the caterpillars are merely Fall Webworms, those common moths that will soon be spinning webs in the surrounding hardwood trees. These fellows are about as everyday a natural display as we could find.
And yet, being right before us, right here this whole time, this parade of life, somehow feels revelatory. We are alone now, finally, up here; in the shadow of the tower, but the tower forgotten, paying witness to the most basic, normal creature. But because we are alone, my daughter and I, it feels like they came out for us, and we, them. This feels mutual.
“Come here, baby,” I say, and Uma sits in my lap and we nibble strawberries and sweet candy as the caterpillar caravan rolls by.
“Where are they going?”
I shrug. “Maybe they think the tower is a tree. Maybe they just want to say hi to you.”
Uma considers this, and all around us the sounds of the mountain returns, the sun warms the rock under our legs and I feel like I can finally drop my shoulders a bit. I can finally sink into the hike and just be mindful there at the summit with my daughter.
The ants dash toward our lunch, the caterpillars march and a warm wind brushes my daughter’s hair across my cheek and I’m grateful, at least, for this respite. These walks, they don’t have to all be perfect, because there is always some perfection to be found.
Blue Job, Farmington (Elevation: 1,356 feet)
Location and Directions: Blue Job Mountains primary parking area can be found on Crown Point Road, in Strafford. The summit is in Farmington. The parking area is about three miles west of the junction of Route 202 near Rochester.
Our Route: The Blue Job Mountain Trail is a loop trail that takes you up to the tower and then over to Little Blue Job then down. We went straight up to the summit then returned via the same route. Total Mileage (1.2 miles)
If You Go: Blue Job Fire Tower is located in the Blue Job Mountain State Forest, which has several trail heads and hiking and recreation opportunities. At about 300 acres, the forest is known to bird watchers as being home to the Small Whorled Pogonia, a federally endangered species.
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Blue Job is about 8 miles from where I live in Rochester. I love that little peak and climb it often. I'm sorry you didn't take the trail over to Little Blue Job. It gives one the feeling of being above tree-line without the effort. Views are spectacular! It's a small mountain with plenty to offer. I often hike up in the evening to watch the sunset and then hike put under headlamp. It's also less crowded in the evening and many folks don't ever make it over to Little Blue Job. And in August there are plenty of blueberries to pick! A real treat was when I saw a bear ambling down to find more blueberries away from the top. A true delight that is often overlooked by folks looking for big mountains.