I didn’t really think much of the fire tower -- I just knew I had to get there and climb it -- until I was at its foot and stopped to think, I’m actually going to climb this.
It was kind of nerve wracking going up as the stairs got narrower and narrower as I went higher and higher and with each step I felt certain my foot will miss a step and fall through the gap and my hands will clasp at nothing and I will come tumbling all the way down. So I stopped two platforms short of the top as there was no more room to maneuver my arms to take good handheld shots much less my tripod. The firehouse was closed anyway according to a man I met on his way down. His chatty and perhaps 12-yearold son and their dog -- while the dog kept barking at me the son was telling me how sweet and friendly really their big dog was as he held its leash to keep it from attacking me -- was down on the ground below.
