Domke Mountain Lookout Site

In 1920, this site started as a crows’s nest tree platform with a log cabin for living quarters.

In September 1927: "John McIntire, Railroad Creek Fireman, spotted a fire on Domke Mountain during the lightning storm of August 19, and taking one man with him, put out the fire in his usual vigorous manner. He found the lightning had struck the rubber covered emergency wire running to Domke Lkt., and burning off the insulation, set fire to the duff and grass below. Following up the line, McIntire picked up and put out three more fires, and found three others put out by rain, which had been set in a similar manner. The lightning had followed down the line, burning off the insulation and setting fires promiscuously. McIntire and Ranger Weeman are too busy to tell the story, so I pass it along at Ranger Weeman's request. H.T. Phelps" (Six Twenty-Six)

In 1930, a 100 foot Aermotor steel tower was constructed, and the log cabin may have been replaced. The twelve-ton steel structure was shipped from Chicago by rail to Wenatchee. From there it was hauled by truck to Chelan, loaded aboard a barge, and finally via pack mules to the top of Domke Mountain (Kresek). Ross Hall served as lookout during the summer of 1930.

In 1932, radio sets of the short wave type were being tested out by the forest service and Domke got one of the larger sending and receiving sets.

In September 1934, panorama photos taken. You can see the original crows nest tree down below.

In November 1934: "After searching for a fire and being unable to locate it, a call was made to the lookout on Domke Mountain. The lookout was to tell the searchers to use a mirror or smoke to show their location. After a couple moves the lookout says; 'You're at the right place now and the fire should be there.' A few minutes later from the 'P' set by code, the following message was heard: 'We are in camp.'" (Six Twenty-Six)

In 1942, the Aircraft Warning Service used the Domke Mountain Lookout for spotting enemy aircraft. The AWS built a 16x20 foot log cabin as new living quarters. The site was activated on March 27, 1942 and deactivated on July 1, 1943.

In the early 1950s, Jack Elliott spent several summers here as a lookout after McGregor Lookout was closed.

On August 26, 1959, a newspaper reported that "Jack Morgan came down from his 110-foot forest service lookout tower atop Domke Mountain for his first day off in two months. A mother bear with two cubs chased Morgan up a tree and kept him there from 11 a.m. until dark. Now the Gonzaga University student is back on his tower watching for fires, bears and his next day off." (see Kresek story below)

By 1970 the tower was gone.

From Ray Kreseks book:
Among the many slaves was one young Easterner who accepted the assignment sight unseen. It ended up being more than he’d bargained for. He made it through fire guard school just fine; but at school there’d been no tall towers, no thunderstorms, and no bears. Assistant ranger Sim Beeson led the packstring up the mountain on the 1st day of July. Packer Gordon Stuart and his four bay mules were followed by Gordon’s big black Labrador retriever. Bringing up the rear was saddle sore and weary Mister Johnson. Suddenly, with startling reality, there stood the nineteen-year olds first assignment in the romantic career of Forestry. A mile tall, its tiny glass cubicle frowned down upon him with a glare, all the while whistling a lurid monotone that never ceased. Before long Sim, Gordon, the mules, and Fetch disappeared down the trail. It was a full week before Johnson overcame his bad case of acrophobia and climbed all the way to the top of his 100 foot tower. By the end of the second week, he had even washed all its windows. Given a few more days and he had even know some of the drainages that flow into Lake Chelan. Then came the only thunderstorm of the summer. It passed through at midnight, and by 6 a.m. when he finally pulled his head out from under the covers, the storm was long gone and smokejumpers were already on his three fires before he ever reported them. That evening, on his way down to the spring, he came upon the final trauma of his short USFS career, a big bear in the middle of the trail with a pair of crocker spaniel-sized cubs. Promptly and expertly, she put her children up one tree and Johnson up another. Thirteen hours later, Able-One-Six didn’t answer the morning radio check-in. Nor did he pick up the telephone when the Chelan dispatcher cranked out three-longs-and-four-shorts. When the Lucerne recreation guard headed up the trail to find out what was wrong, he came upon the problem a half mile below the tower. There was Johnson, crouched on a limb twenty feet up a skinny fir tree. With no sign of any bear around, the guard asked Bobby what the hell he was doing out climbing trees where there were fires to watch for. There was no reply at first. Bobby was still in shock. Evidently, every time he had tried to come down during the night, Mama Bear returned to bite him in the rump again.