12 The Oregon Surveyor | Vol. 45, No. 4 Featured Article continued Mountain, a 5,000-foot timbered peak, acted like a cleaver and carved out a portion of the south edge of the firestorm and deflected it south to the ridgetop where we now stood. It was a good news-bad news situation in that the underbrush and old snags, including line trees, had burned completely up, and the standing timber was now all dead and black. We could look down that 100 percent slope all the way to the two line trees found in 2019 that were 220 feet uphill from the quarter corner. The bark on the north side of them was severely burned (since the winds were pushing this part of the fire south), but the south half of them was not scorched. After taking some pictures, we dropped down past the ledge and continued our “semi-controlled fall” 225 feet to the South Quarter Corner of Section 32. Both BTs were still standing, but were burned and dead, all the way to the crowns. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the only reason a few tags and remnants thereof were still on the BTs was because I use galvanized nails instead of aluminum ones, which just melt. In 2019, I had screwed four horizontal lath onto the northeast side of the southern BT and stapled two fluorescent paper targets (24-inch vert x 16-inch horizontal) to the BT, leaving a 1-foot gap between them. I then screwed a surplus triple prism in the gap. (In 2021, the only thing left of the targets and prismwas one torx head screw!) I aimed the prism at a small 10-acre clearcut 2 1/2 miles to the northeast. I then recorded a compass bearing to the clearcut and a vertical angle. When I finally found that small clearcut a few weeks later, the compass bearing and vertical angle gave me a pretty good idea where the target was. (This had to be done in the morning with the sun at my back. If I waited till afternoon, I’d be looking into the sun and the targets would be in the dark shade.) After pointing my trusty old T-16 (with a DI-1000 mounted on top) to the compass bearing and setting in the vertical angle, I could then turn on the DI-1000 and pan left and right till I got a hint of a signal return in the window. Then it was only a matter of adjusting up and down and side to side with the tangent screws till the signal strength was finally peaked and a look through the scope revealed the targets. I had learned this technique back in the ‛60s when the state-of-the-art distance meter at that time was a Tellurometer, which used microwave technology. To measure a distance, it took two people and two identical MRA3 units, each with an operator. Each instrument weighed about 40 pounds. If you recorded compass bearings and verts ahead of time, you could measure in the rain, if need be, with 1 mile or 20 miles of clouds or fog between units. Each operator had a headset and could talk back and forth with the other. The first distance was determined as the first operator filled out his note form. Then the roles were reversed and the second operator then determined the distance from their end. Prior to the measurements, you had to max the signal strength and this was done by loosening the 5/8-inch bolt under the tripod head and manually rotating the 40-pound unit until the needle showing the signal return was peaked. Measuring from the center of each BT, we found the rock I had placed there two years before. I was standing at that 2019 rock when something caught my eye. It was a stone about 10 feet down the hill below me. The sun was at a low angle to the south, but its rays were just grazing across the face of the stone and I could see marks plainly as they were in shadow. I slid down to it and immediately saw the letters “SC 1/4” on Campbell’s original stone that had also been cracked open by the heat of the burning duff and limbs. It then occurred to me that I should add another tale to the initial 2019 one since now the real stone had finally been recovered! For some reason, I recalled a book titled Twice Told Tales. When I was in about the 4th or 5th grade, my older sister and I used to play a card game called Authors. It was kind of like Go Fish only you asked for book titles instead of numbered playing cards. We played it so much that I knew most of the famous authors and their classic books, but have never read any of them to this day. The renowned author Nathaniel Hawthorn, (1804–1864), was mainly known for House of the Seven Gables and The Scarlet Letter. In 1837 he had written a book called Twice Told Tales which was actually a collection of some of his previously published short stories. I thought it proper to give this dissertation that same name, since the developing plot was similar to Paul Harvey’s “The Rest of the Story” programs that many of us older surveyors remember. This particular tale now has a happy ending! Chuck Whitten graduated in 1967 from Oregon State University with a BS in forest engineering and is still a licensed land surveyor in Oregon and Washington (retired). He has lived near Battle Ground, Washington, since 1977. One of his hobbies since retirement has been recovering and maintaining original GLO section corners under a 1995 volunteer agreement with the Willamette National Forest. I slid down to it and immediately saw the letters “SC 1/4” on Campbell’s original stone that had also been cracked open by the heat of the burning duff and limbs. It then occurred to me that I should add another tale to the initial 2019 one since now the real stone had finally been recovered!
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy Nzc3ODM=