98 search results for "ken sleight"

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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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EDWARD ABBEY: 34 YEARS LATER in a BRAVE NEW WORLD—Jim Stiles (ZX#53)

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He once said, “ If America could be, once again, a nation of self-reliant farmers, craftsmen, hunters, ranchers and artists, then the rich would have little power to dominate others. Neither to serve nor to rule. That was the American Dream.”

Many of the older New Westerners love Ed Abbey but have no idea what that means. They’ve read all his books and they follow and “LIKE” his quotes on Facebook, but they understand far less than they realize. Many of the younger New Westerners are too busy recreating to care. Solitude isn’t even a priority (And please note, in the spirit of Abbey, I’m generalizing here and judging a generation who I know has its own shining stars. If there is any hope to be found, it is in those young people.)

What Abbey always hoped we’d take away from his writing and from his life was a sense of ourselves as individuals, as men and women who could take control of our own lives and our own destinies. Abbey spoke disapprovingly of a “nation of bleating sheep and braying jackasses.” He longed for a people with dignity and courage and he loathed the mindless “bleating” that he found even in his own readers

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UTAH’S INFAMOUS POLYGAMIST ALEX JOSEPH: From Big Water to Amangiri & Outlier Outlaws to Opulence —-by Jim Stiles (ZX#48)

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But in 1975, Glen Canyon City was the domain of the controversial polygamist and constant thorn in the butt of Kane County politicians— Alex Joseph. He and his cult had been booted from one federally owned section of land after another. But they finally found Glen City and nobody seemed to care. It was ready to fall down anyway. Here Alex would build his own kingdom. I had heard about Alex from a ranger friend at the dam. “If you’re headed for Kanab,” Popovich said, “stop at the Red Desert Cafe. The food’s good and you might get to meet some of Alex Joseph’s gorgeous wives.”

I was skeptical but I thought, what the hell. The next morning, I left Page and after the long incline from the lake, in the middle of nowhere, I spotted a collection of ramshackle houses and trailers, long abandoned cars and pickups, and a plethora of tumbleweed. You’d think they were raising it as a crop. The Red Desert Cafe didn’t look much better, but I was hungry and curious about those wives.

Sure enough, Popovich’s description was spot on. Alex was at the bar, looking a tad taciturn. Several of his wives were there too, some cooking and some working as waitresses. They were all over-qualified to be food servers. I learned that among Alex’s wives, one was a doctor, another was a lawyer. Another was a realtor…they were all quite lovely. Alex walked over and said hello. He had a beer gut and stringy black hair pulled back in pigtails and he needed a shave and I thought: What does this guy have that I don’t have?

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HERB RINGER @ ZION & BRYCE( 1946-1965): The Complete Collection* (ZX#47)

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Herb Ringer and his mother and father started traveling extensively after the end of WWII. Until then, most of Herb’s wanderings were in the vicinity of Reno, Nevada or the far eastern side of California. he especially loved exploring the abandoned mines and ghost towns of Nevada. But in 1946, the Ringers headed for the Grand Canyon and other parks of the Colorado Plateau. They were stunned by the Grand Canyon and Herb’s father, Joseph, recorded his thoughts in the journal that Herb gave him for Christmas 1944. Joseph would maintain that journal until his death in 1963. Many of those journal entries are included in this story.

The Ringer Family’s first big trip to Utah came in 1946. They were still driving their 1941 Lincoln Zephyr, though you will only see one photograph of it, farther down in the Bryce Canyon section. So many Zephyr readers love Herb’s cars as much as the scenery so I have included excerpts from Joseph Ringer’s journals about both. You’ll find the history of their car purchases to be remarkably detailed. And that makes sense since most Americans then (and now) are more worried about their vehicles running than geology.

This album and the excerpts are from numerous trips that began in 1946. But most of them are from trips in the Ford Woody and the turquoise Ford truck with the camper, between 1950 and 1956. I include a couple additional photos from 1962, and one from1965, when Herb was now traveling alone with his mother. Joseph died of cancer in 1963, a year before Medicare legislation was passed. Herb later told me that he spent the family’s entire life savings, $37,000 trying to save his father…JS

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TO GLUE, BLAST, PAVE & MOB DELICATE ARCH: A HISTORY —Jim Stiles (ZX#45)

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Delicate Arch…the name sounds familiar. In its online literature the National Park Service at Arches National Park calls Delicate Arch “the best known arch in the world.” In years past, the State of Utah considered the arch “so iconic” that it stamped the arch’s image on all state license plates. Visitation to Delicate Arch has recently become such an event that it is virtually impossible to experience the arch alone, or even with a small group of fellow tourists…

…As far back as the late 19th Century, ranchers and cowboys and maybe a few sheepherders had come across the arch. None of them were impressed; tourism was still an industry that had only occurred to a few. Even the uniqueness of this sandstone span failed to attract many visitors.

John Wesley Wolfe moved West from Ohio for health reasons. His doctor thought the desert air might extend his life. He and his son Fred found their way to Southeast Utah, to the Salt Wash area below the arch and established a ranch there in 1898. He built a primitive cabin and eked out a living. When his daughter Flora Stanley and her husband Ed visited him in 1907, she was appalled at the living conditions and made him build a new cabin. At some point he mentioned the arch to his daughter who made the two mile trek and is credited with the first known photo of what was then called “The School Marm’s Bloomers.” According to early Park Service reports, the arch sported a variety of nicknames, from “Pants Crotch,” to “Mary’s Bloomers, to the less colorful “Salt Wash Arch.” It most likely depended on which name the various ranchers preferred.

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JACKSON HOLE’S LAST HONEST COWBOY SUMMER: 1970 … Jim Stiles (ZX#44 )

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This was 1970, when there was a huge culture divide in America, not seen since…until now. But it was “Hippie Summer” in Jackson that year and the clash between the newcomers and the locals got pretty intense. Even Walt’s five boys called me “Hippie Jim,” though without any hint of malice. The boys stopped by regularly to see their dad and I often got to kid around with them too. But we all liked each other, regardless of hair length. That wasn’t always the case. There were numerous skirmishes between the “hard hats & the hippies,” and sometimes it got a tad ugly.

I worked the noon to 10 PM shift at Harold’s and Most of the locals waited until evening to gas up. During the day, the tourists were regular customers who also complained bitterly about the price of gas— 44.9 cents a gallon and believe it or not, that was one of the highest gas prices in the country. Still I always preferred the evening business when the ranchers and other working men stopped by.
One local was a particular favorite. His name was Tom Fortune. He was about 6 feet tall and might have weighed 130 pounds after a hard rain. His waist could not have been more than 28 inches. Tom had an agreement with Harold that he could use the bays after hours and he was a frequent visitor. Like so many ranchers, he got by on a wing and a prayer and baling wire. He had more patches than rubber on much of his farm equipment and still owned a lot of tires with split rims, which are a real pain to change. But Tom was not one to give up on a wheel or a piece of machinery if he could jury-rig it and keep it alive for a bit longer.

Tom was a man who never complained and never bragged. In fact, he just didn’t like to waste time on unnecessary conversation. One evening he came in with another flat and as he climbed out of his old truck, he was clearly injured and in pain. Tom Fortune might have only been in his late 30s but he was moving like a man twice that. I was concerned…

“Are you okay, Tom? I asked.

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UNSUNG VIDEOGRAPHERS of CANYON COUNTRY: 1949 —Ray & Virginia Garner (ZX#43)

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But my photo collections are still images. Trying to locate movie film, especially going back to the 1940s and 1950s has been almost impossible. Sometimes the best I could hope for were John Ford Westerns and one of George Stevens’ last films, “The Greatest Story Ever Told.” All the exterior scenes were shot in Glen Canyon, as the dam was being built. 

But recently, and sheerly by accident, I found the film in its entirety on the internet. It had been donated to the National Archives and though the film quality still pales by today’s standards, it is the history in these films and images that I love, more than the film quality itself. Ray and Virginia Garner started making films in the late 1930s. Ray’s first known project was a film about ascending the Grand Teton with a group of Boy Scouts in 1936. Sadly the film has been lost. But it was the beginning of an independent filmmaker career and soon, a wonderful collaboration with his new wife Virginia. Though the title of the film I’m offering here gives credit to Ray, Virginia, or “Jinny” as she was known to everyone, was not only his equal in the filming, production and presentation of what were often silent films, she was certainly more photogenic and appears often in them.  That’s’ what gives these 16mm movies such a personal feel. As I understand the story, they toured the country with their movies and at various gatherings, they would narrate the film in person as it was being shown.

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Chasing Charlie Steen & the Dream of Uranium Riche$ in 1955 — by Brett Hulen (ZX#42)

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We moved to Moab in 1955 chasing the uranium dream with a brand new 1955 Dodge Power Wagon pulling a 24′ Boles Aero travel trailer, and a 1951 Willys CJ3 with a little military jeep trailer. We initially prospected in the Circle Cliffs area where my Mother discovered a small deposit of carnotite. She was using a Geiger Counter or scintillator and watched the needle practically bend in two when it pegged out!

We moved in off the desert in the fall of 1955 when my brother Jeff and I were forced to begin school. We initially lived in the old P&W trailer park adjacent to the Apache Motel. My father Bradley also worked as a real estate broker in town and owned the old one horse Maverik gas station. As I recall he later sold it to Karl and Patsy Tangren.

My brother was working at Arches National Monument, for Bates Wilson, and was dating his daughter Cindy. As I grew up I worked at many of the surrounding ranches in Castle Valley (for the McCormicks and Shumways), Fisher Valley (D.L. Taylor had just gotten out of the Army) and lastly on the Dugout Ranch for the Redds until such a time I began to realize that the rear-end of a shapely young girl was enormously more attractive than the same afore mentioned part of a cow.

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#2: BEFORE INSTAGRAM KILLED the POSTCARD– Classics of Salt Lake City & Vicinity (ZX#40)

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Back in August I posted Volume 1 of “How Instagram Killed the Postcard;” it featured images from the Moab area. What I did’nt expect was the response. Postcards from across the country poured in to my little PO Box on the High Plain. I love my Zephyr readers. While I can’t name everyone who sent me postcards, I need to pay special tribute to Evan Kramer of Port Orford, Oregon who sent several, including one of those multiple hand colored packets of cards titled, “Greetings from Minneapolis, Minn.” Thanks Evan! And I might have guessed—-several spectacular and especially weird hand colored cards from Greg Gnesios. One of Plymouth Rock…the other a very memorable card of older gentlemen playing shuffleboard in St. Petersburg, Florida.

This time I focus on Utah’s state capitol, Salt lake City and its many scenic wonders. And the vicinity. Some of these cards are more than 100 years old. When there were messages on the back, I’ve included the flip-side as well. I tried to enhance the print as well as possible…So here are the wonders of…SALT LAKE CITY

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“I LONGED for the WESTERN LIFE.”–HERB RINGER’S Great Adventure — Jim Stiles (ZX#39)

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NOTE: I’m posting this in the afternoon of December 11. My old friend Herb Ringer died 24 years ago today. I have shared his pictures and stories for the entire life of this publication. And I’ve written a few about my dear friend. This story combines parts of past stories and introduces some new ones as well. And more pictures, of course. He is still missed after a quarter of a century, especially by me—JS

EXCERPT:
“Herb,” I’ll ask, “Here’s a picture of you on horseback and in the next picture there’s a girl on her hands and knees under her horse. What’s that all about?”

His worn out eyes sparkle. “Yes!” he smiles, “That’s Skippy. That was in the High Sierras in about 1942. She loved her horse and the horse would do anything for her. She bet me she could sit right under it and I didn’t believe her. So she climbed down and crawled right under the horse’s front legs. So, I took a picture. And that night I bought her a steak dinner.”

I could hear Herb moving things about in his closet and a few moments later he emerged from the bed room, a manila-covered album held tenderly in his hands. He returned to his chair, a bit winded from the short trip, and then he placed the large book in my lap. It was the size and shape of a photo album but was covered with brown wrapping paper and held together with yellowed Scotch tape. I opened the binding to the first page….

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