213 search results for "herb ringer"

WHITE CANYON…The Drowned Little Town Beneath Lake Powell …Tom McCourt (ZX#81)

My last trip to White Canyon was in December 1959. It was just a few days after my thirteenth birthday. Grandpa was going to the desert again to do assessment work on his uranium claims, and he asked if Reed and I would like to go along. I was thrilled. I had been given a little box camera for my birthday, and I was excited by the opportunity to take some pictures before Lake Powell covered my favorite place forever.

Before we even started, I had a feeling about that trip; a premonition I suppose. Somehow I knew that this would be my last visit to that special place of my childhood. I was going to White Canyon to say goodbye….

Flashback #2…From BRAVE NEW WEST: 2007– The ‘Greening’ of Moab..& Wilderne$$ Itself (ZX#80) — Jim Stiles

I drift back to my days as a kid and my journeys into The Woods and realize I can still find that same mystical connection to the land when I’m picking through the ruins of an old mining cabin in the Yellow Cat, north of Arches, and I look up through the darkness to the exposed rotting rafters and find myself eyeball to eyeball with a Great Horned Owl, who never blinks, and out-stares me, and backs me out the door with his fierce glare. Isn’t that a wilderness experience?

ALBERT CHRISTENSEN’S TRIUMPH & HEARTBREAK–THE 1941 ‘UNITY MONUMENT’ by Jim Stiles (ZX#78)

Beginning in the late 1930s and for the next 12 years, Christensen would create his remarkable 5000 square foot home—his ‘Hole ‘n’ the Rock—from the surrounding Entrada Sandstone. And for many years, from 1945 to 1955, part of the man made cavern was a diner. It had a reputation for being a bit on the wild side. Though Hole N’ the Rock was in San Juan County, it was almost 40 miles from Monticello, the nearest community in the county. Moab was much closer, but Grand County lacked jurisdiction. The diner and the store and its reputation flourished and the Christensens eked out a modest living.

Still, Albert’s most impassioned work, and the project that was to first create such excitement and interest, and then later cause such profound disappointment and heartbreak, was his ‘Unity Monument.’

It was to be Albert Christensen’s grandiose effort to honor President Franklin Roosevelt and his opponent, Republican Wendell Willkie in the 1940 presidential election. He planned a massive bas relief tribute in a sandstone amphitheater near his rock home, but the federal government claimed he’d built his scale model on public land…What the government did next would devastate Albert, his family, and many of Moab’s citizens.

FUR TRADER DENIS JULIEN’S LIFE IN THE WEST (& Arches) by James H. Knipmeyer (ZX#77)

Sometime in late September or early October of 1844, Utes attacked Robidoux’s Fort Uintah trading post… One contemporary story stated that at the time of the attack, the fort had very few of its usual inhabitants present, many having already departed because of the increasing tensions with the neighboring Uinta-ats. Denis Julien seems to have been one of these.

Far to the south, in the Devils Garden section of present-day Arches National Park, is the last known, chronologically, Julien inscription. It has been scratched into the dark, desert-varnished side of a tall sandstone fin and reads, “Denis Julien 9 6 me 1844.” The “6 me ” is the French equivalent of 6 th in English, sixth in French being sixième. The preceding numeral “9” is representative of the ninth month, September…

The ‘ZEPHYR AMERICA’ Files…Volume 1 —(Horses, Sunsets, Grain Silos, Tucumcari & Pinky) —Jim Stiles (ZX#76)

A compilation of the Zephyr America series that appears exclusively on the Zephyr Facebook page (almost every Wednesday morning). These posts contain additional photographs not seen on Facebook…

…For the last few months, I’ve added a regular feature for those of you who follow us on the Zephyr Facebook page. But many of you don’t and, of course, as the latest FB post drops lower and lower on your screen and disappears from sight, it disappears from mind as well…at least it does me. So every couple of months, I’m going to compile the best of them here, in one website post. If you enjoy going back and having a look, it will be much easier now…In this first compilation I range from horses and cows, to sunsets and Tucumcari, New Mexico, to birds of any color, to Pinky, the Divine Dog of Buyeros, New Mexico…

A 1910 Expedition to Rainbow Natural Bridge —By Harvey Leake (ZX#75)

Despite her remarkable fortitude in the face of previous ordeals and hardships, 32-year-old Nelka de Smirnoff nearly reached her limit during her 1910 horseback ride to Rainbow Natural Bridge. The daughter of Count Theodor de Smirnoff, a Russian nobleman, and Nellie Blow, a wealthy St. Louis socialite, she had experienced the best of both American and European culture while growing up. When she was 25, she volunteered to serve with the French Red Cross as a nurse to soldiers wounded in the war between Russia and Japan. A year later she joined the Russian Red Cross and dealt with the horrific effects of war to the injured men she treated. But the stamina she gained through those trying situations was barely sufficient for the challenges that confronted her on the Rainbow Bridge trail…

ROCK INSCRIPTIONS: WHEN DOES VANDALISM BECOME HISTORIC? –Jim Stiles (ZX#74)

But when does a carved name on a rock stop being vandalism and take on a historic value of its own? Where do we draw the line? A century? Fifty years? I struggled with that question a lot when I was a ranger, though over the years, I came to believe that every one of these carvings is too special to be removed.

The above inscription has special meaning for me, because I found it during a backcountry patrol in 1977. It would be fairer to say I “re-found” it, many years after other humans, most likely Basque sheepherders had added their own names and comments (whether the ‘B.S.’ next to Julien’s name was an expression of doubt re: the inscription’s authenticity, of it just happened to be the man’s initials, the Julien inscription had surely been seen. but perhaps decades earlier.

I stumbled upon it purely by accident, toward the far north end of the Devils Garden. I saw the Basque inscriptions first and noticed that it was a perfect campsite. It was at the base of a small natural amphitheater—the sandstone tower and fins blocked the weather coming from the north or east. A fifty foot stabilized dune to the west of the site protected campers from the western winds. It was only after I stood directly in front of these larger inscriptions that I noticed Julien’s name. I had heard it before and thought it was worth writing up a report on my find. I had no idea it would create so much interest…

TOM ARNOLD: Moab’s VW Mechanic, Philosopher & Ed Abbey’s Pilot (ZX#73)…by Jim Stiles

Tom Tom’s VW Museum has never been easy to miss. It’s located at the intersection of Mill Creek Drive and Spanish Valley Drive, an intersection known to locals as Chicken Corners. It’s the Gateway to Spanish Valley, where in the last two decades, many of the other junk cars and washing machines and spare tires have vanished — replaced by half million dollar faux adobe second homes and condos.

But TK’s Museum still stands. At its zenith, Arnold managed to squeeze 250 vintage Volkswagens onto a two acre lot that he bought 50 years ago. It was his pride and joy. Others still curse the site and wish some mega-billionaire would fly in, buy the property and scour his collection from the face of the earth. But Tom…or Tom Tom…or TK …always took the criticism in stride and with good cheer. “They just don’t know how to have a good time… I’m having a good time.” He did to his last breath…

For the record, he was born Thomas Arnold, but we knew him by many names— Tom, Tom Tom, TK, or more generically—The Volkswagen Guy. For decades TK serviced VWs of all kinds, with varying degrees of success. As all of us who once owned VWs, the cars were almost born with the intent to drive us crazy, and consequently, we owners were surely cursed with varying degrees of masochism. But Tom loved them all. And he loved to collect the ones that he could not revive.

1963-64: GLEN CANYON’S LAST DAYS…w/ Hite’s Beth & Ruben Nielsen (ZX#72)

Arth Chaffin and Ruben Nielsen thought there might be non-archaeological treasures to be salvaged as well. The river had seen its share of mining operations over the last century, and even old cabins and sheds. Most of them, like Bert Loper’s old cabin, were drowned by the rising waters. But there was other possible salvageable booty, and I’m just speculating here, but they have been looking for more practical treasures, like compressors, small Diesel or gas engines, scrap iron, copper wiring, discarded tools, old drill steel, tools, ladders…the kind of material that mechanics and people tied to the mining industry might find of value.

And so Arth and Ruben built a “barge.” It was constructed from empty sealed 55 gallon drums–about fifty of them— which they lashed together and over which, constructed a deck of sorts. On the deck, they pitched two canvas tents for their personal use.