DESOLATION PEAK — A warm glow of distant flames pulsed in the mid-September night above the western shores of Ross Lake.
Jim Henterly raised his black binoculars. Their lenses captured the light of the Perry Fire better than the naked eye. He also kept close watch on a “sleeper” fire to the east, which was so small it hadn’t even earned an official name. If the fire grew, though, it could easily climb toward the doorstep of his cozy wooden lookout.
Years ago, Henterly and his wife joked that there would be no point in working as a wildfire lookout in Western Washington. There just wouldn’t be any action.
But that’s no longer the case.
From dwindling mountain snowpack and desiccated blueberry patches to disappearing critters, colleagues and resources, Henterly, 71, has seen changes unfo