Bower Mountain creates the north-western border of Jimson County, where Frowntown resides. Stretching thousands of miles in either direction, this mountain chain is less of a real mountain and more like a big hill. Bower Mountian is pretty skinny, as mountains go, only 10 or 15 miles wide at its widest point, and maybe only 2 where the interstate tunnels through it. There's really no reason to call different sections of this mountain chain by different names, since it's really just one big rolling hill. A couple people live on Bower Mountian year round, and a hundred or so cabins rot away until hunting season. Frowntown sheriff John Hutchins has a cabin up here, where he comes nearly every week from early October until the snow makes it too dangerous to make the trip, and at least a couple times during the summer.

The forest is divided by a couple roads, which mostly just lead to each other. There is one main road that starts a couple miles south-west of Frowntown and goes pretty much the whole length of what the map calls Bower Mountain, coming back down about 40 miles due north of town, in Kipplington. There are 4 loop roads that leave from and return to this main road, and a handfull of jeep trails that seem to just disappear into the trees. Plenty of people know lots about this mountain, but the days of anyone knowing everything about it are long gone, and most people wouldn't have a clue where to go if they got lost up here. There's a false sense of security that comes from gravel roads, thinking that you can just get back in your car and drive to town when you get cold means that maybe once every two or three years someone disappears up here, after driving into the hills, parking, and walking off. Not really anything you can do to prevent it though, people are going to get lost, and people are going to die.

Not that the woods are full of dead people, though that certainly would make for something exciting around Frowntown. Mostly the woods of Bower Mountain are dry, dusty, and dirty. 100 years ago, this mountain was pretty much bare, the trees having been cut to make coal for the foundries that made up most of the Frowntown economy. Not a single tree on this mountain was more than 150 years old, and most were less than 50. There were semi-regular timber sales, where the big lumber trucks would rumble up the washboard gravel roads and cut big swaths of trees to turn into plywood and furniture and firewood.