Author: stiles

ROAMING GLEN CANYON & THE FOUR CORNERS w/ RUBEN & BETH NIELSEN (ZX#66)

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While the Nielsens regarded Glen Canyon as the true heart of the Colorado Plateau, they also knew their “own little piece of Heaven,” was surrounded by some of the most stunning, almost surreal landscape that surrounded them for hundreds of miles. And at the time, canyon country of Southeast Utah was one of he most remote, seldom visited parts of the continental United States. It was truly the proverbial “blank spot on the map.”

Decades later, as Industrial Strength Tourism became the area’s driving industry and as environmentalists and the powerful recreation lobby pushed hard to eliminate other economic options, Tourism and the “Amenities Economy” became king. What oil and gas exploitation and uranium mining and overgrazing couldn’t accomplish, Industrial Tourism, in almost every small economically struggling community in the West beat them all —The Rural West is rapidly is experiencing the Disneyfication of half the country

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IN DEFENSE OF “TRASHY TRAILERS” …by Jim Stiles (ZX#65)

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One could make the argument that without the invention and development of the travel trailer, Moab’s Uranium Boom of the 1950s would have been even more chaotic than it was. Until Charlie Steen’s life altering discovery of uranium at Big Indian, 30 miles south of town, Moab was a sleepy little village most noted for its orchards. And it’s a good guess that many of those original settlers were appalled by the mass migration to Moab. Others welcomed the excitement and the prospects of a more vibrant economy. Moab has never been a town to agree on much of anything. The debate still rages.
In any case, would-be miners and prospectors flocked to Southeast Utah, only to find a community that was not in any way prepared to handle the Boom.

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JOHN RIFFEY: THE LAST ‘LONE RANGER’ by Edie Eilender (ZX#64)

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Riffee came to Tuweap in 1942. Came out to spend one night to see if he would like it and ended up staying almost 40 years. “Don’t think that I could have found a better place for me to work and spend a life, “ he once said. “When I retire I’m going to live right down the road; a place good enough to work at is good enough to die at.”

In 1942 Tuweap was part of the Grand Canyon National Monument and Riffee’s main job was working with the ranchers who had grazing permits in the Monument. Over the years the job changed as ranching declined and recreation increased. Later, the Monument became part of the park. Riffee was there for it all.

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DOWN the ESCALANTE RIVER w/Ken Sleight —By Edna Fridley (ZX#63)

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FROM KEN SLEIGHT,
“Edna soon came to Escalante and met many of the town folk. Coming and going from trips, we spent a lot of time at cousin Mohr Christensen’s Moqui Motel. My clients met there and at the other rustic-looking motels in Escalante when coming on trips.

“Edna loved Escalante Canyon and became intimately familiar with its features. We frequented Coyote Gulch more than any other canyon. It contains Jacob Hamblin and Coyote natural bridges and Jug Handle Arch. At its mouth and across the river, Stevens Arch looms high on the skyline. Negotiating this country often came hard. Going down Coyote Gulch on one trip, a giant part of the wall broke away and crashed into the creek bottom below, forming a natural dam. My old intrepid friend Vaughn Short, who helped me a lot through those years, aided me in fashioning a detour around the slide and I got our horses and mules around the long pool of water. Edna followed that trail on numerous occasions, as it led to Indian wall writings.”

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HERB RINGER’S PRICELESS ‘ARTIFACTS’ Vol, 1 W/ Jim Stiles (ZX#62)

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But several months later, I rediscovered the paper bag and opened it up. It contained several hundred Kodachrome transparencies from the camera of herb Ringer. They were images of the American West, in pristine condition; the color was as vivid and sharp as the day Herb took them. Now he had given them to me. I was overwhelmed and Herb was delighted that he’d found someone who loved and appreciated his photographs as much as I did. This was 1986

And now Herb wanted to start sharing other treasures with me. His extraordinary photographs were just the beginning. He wanted to share the rest of his priceless possessions with me. That’s what this Zephyr Extra Part 1 is about. In that little 42 foot trailer, Herb maintained a museum of sorts. Knowing we shared this love of history, he began to insist that I take them. He knew I would cherish them as much as he did…

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THE HEARTACHES & HARDSHIPS THAT THE GRAVESTONES TELL —Jim Stiles (ZX# 61 )

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Nowadays few Americans would even give it a thought —- why is there a tiny cluster of trees in the middle of a featureless plain? We see them all the time. At certain times of the day, we might see an odd white glint of something undefinable. A misplaced rock? An abandoned car? But who cares? We race onward to the next McDonald’s or Ramada Inn. We follow our itinerary.

But out there on that tall grass prairie, or tucked in some little side canyon, or atop a wooded knoll, or in the midst of endless rows of corn, or wheat, or milo, or soybeans, or cotton— is our history. And the departed men and women that we owe so much to,.

Many of them are not even graced with a marker. There’s a good chance you’re driving over their long forgotten remains as you race along the highway.. Nothing remains.

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THE MYTH of ‘PROGRESS’— Revealed by Traditional Navajo Wisdom … by Harvey Leake (ZX#60)

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The position of these men (like John Wesley Powell) and many others in the Federal Government was that Native Americans were stuck in the barbaric stage and needed to be civilized. The Bureau of Indian Affairs, since their inception in 1849, implemented a number of unsuccessful strategies to bring the Indians “up” to modern intellectual and moral standards, while failing to acknowledge that the divide was fundamentally a philosophic one. William Henry Holmes, who had responded to B. K. Wetherill’s first letter, later expressed the violent aspect of the government approach. He believed that the dominant culture was destined predominate and that “the complete absorption or blotting out of the red race will be quickly accomplished. If peaceful amalgamation fails, extinction of the weaker by less gentle means will do the work.

Powell elaborated on Morgan’s theory in two articles: “From Savagery to Barbarism” and “From Barbarism to Civilization”. He maintained that civilized society is not only technologically and intellectually superior, but morally superior as well. “In savagery, the beasts are gods; in barbarism, the gods are men; in civilization, men are as gods, knowing good from evil,” he wrote.

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1957 AERIAL VIEWS of ARCHES NATIONAL MONUMENT (“Before the Asphalt”) ZX#59

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When I posted last week’s story about Arches in the 1950s, I had not intended to do a “part 2.” But later I remembered hearing Lloyd talk about the substantial role he and superintendent Bates Wilson played in laying out the new road alignment. And it reminded me of the black and white aerial photos I found in a trash can at the Arches visitor center in 1977. The NPS had just received a new set of color high resolution images of the park, and considered the old ones to be worthless. I fished them out of the can and even checked with my boss, to be sure they no longer wanted them. Like so many other artifacts I have from my days at Arches, from weather reports to wildlife observation cards, even to the old wooden signs, one agency’s trash was my treasure, I’m glad I have kept these historical remembrances all these years…JS

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Rangers Lloyd Pierson & Lyle Jamison: Remembering Arches, Moab & Ed Abbey in the 50s: from 1989 & 1992 Interviews —w/ Jim Stiles (ZX#58)

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In 1989, my own seasonal ranger “career,” (if you could call it that) had ended, much to the relief of most park managers over the GS-7 pay level. But I still maintained good friendships with some of the older NPS staff, many of whom had retired years earlier but who had decided to live in Moab. I was particularly blessed to call two park veterans, Lloyd Pierson and Lyle Jamison, as dear friends. While newer park personnel loathed my irreverent, outspoken side, Lyle and Lloyd appreciated it. In fact, Lloyd’s humor was somewhat biting, and he was always willing to speak his mind, and let the chips fall where they may. He gave new meaning to the expression “unbridled candor.” It’s why, so many years ago, I concluded that, “When I grow up, I want to be just like Lloyd Pierson.” I’m still working on it.

Lloyd Pierson was the Chief Ranger at Arches from 1956 to 1961. He and Superintendent Bates Wilson oversaw the Mission 66 project during those most tumultuous years. The building of a new road was inevitable, and so both men played a role in determining the new highway alignment in a way that would have the least impact on the park they both loved.
Lyle Jamison worked as the Monument administrative officer from 1959 to 1960, but as they both later explain in this story, his duties in those days were “wide and varied.” . Lyle took another job in the NPS system that year, but a decade later returned to the newly formed Canyonlands National Park. It was Lyle who oversaw the hiring of seasonal rangers at Arches. I had signed on as a volunteer in the winter of 1975-76 but applied for the Arches seasonal campground job and often stopped by the old headquarters office downtown to check on my status. Using every technique possible, I told him that at volunteer pay I could not sustain myself on a diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Finally one day in March I poked my head in his office and Lyle looked up and grinned, “Stiley!”

…Lloyd retired from the Park Service a few years before my arrival but was a well-known face in Moab. A historian by trade, Pierson was an active board member of the Moab Museum and his frequent letters to the Moab Times-Independent were legendary. Lyle retired from government service just a few years after my arrival. But like Lloyd, he was hooked on Moab. He and his wonderful wife Lois bought a home in Spanish Valley and stayed active in local issues related to the parks.

When I decided to start The Zephyr, I was anxious to use it as a way of keeping and preserving the history of Southeast Utah. The first two people I sought out were Lloyd and Lyle. One cold morning in January 1989, I coerced both of these guys to take a ride with me through Arches to remember and recall the “good old days,” and observe the changes that have occurred over the years. We all bundled into my 1963 Volvo and I sat a tape recorder on the dashboard. I pushed the record button and off we went.. The overriding theme was: What’s changed? What’s here now that wasn’t here then? How different does this place feel to you? For the next hour and a half, they talked and I mostly listened…

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Hitchhiking Across America (December 1972)— A Really Dumb Idea —Jim Stiles (ZX#57)

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Suddenly Schreiber appeared around the corner. He’d run back to the Alto Nido, grabbed every guy he could find, and they all came running back to “save” me. I was impressed! They were ready to rumble. Barry was breathing heavily. He may have been armed with a golf club.

“Hold on!” I said diplomatically. “These men are officers of the law. They mistook me for an armed bandit.” By now the detectives had uncuffed me and though they never actually apologized, they did acknowledge that while I looked like the suspect, there was “reason to believe” I was not that man.

I decided I was not meant to be here. But my VW was just hammered. I didn’t know if it could make the trip home. I calculated that I had driven 22,000 miles in the last six months. It wasn’t really like I missed home anyway…I just didn’t know what else to do. And I was yet again almost broke. It was at that moment that the idea of hitchhiking across the country, more than 2500 miles, with a 75 pound Husky, in the middle of the winter, began percolating in my brain.

“Stiles…are you crazy?” Schreiber said. “It may be warm here, but once you’re out of here, you’re going to freeze your ass off…and besides…HITCHHIKING? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Have you heard of Charlie Manson? That was only three years ago. Do you know how many crazy people are out there? Or just plain mean? Don’t do it.”

I said, “Would you give Muckluk and me a ride as far as San Bernardino?”

Schreiber shook his head. “Sure, I’ll ride you that far. Damn Stiles, you are one crazy son of a bitch.”

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