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Show In spite of the negative results, the practice continues to this day. drove Orange Blossom, my truck, to the canyon that had been chained. It like a battlefield or as if a tornado had gone through the area. The steep was littered with dead trees, lying on their backs, black arms reaching skyward. A bone yard of dead trees. John took out his chainsaw and, in no time, the back of my truck was loaded with wood. I gratefully trucked it home to Cold Hill, where I burned it and enjoyed its warmth. And the smell! I love the smell of pinion as it bums. As I watched the flames in the fireplace, I dreamed of my return to Tuweap in the spring. range." We looked hillside died on the job in July 1980. And he is still there guarding the land he loved. The Park Service made an exception to their rules and allowed him to be buried in the Park, just down the road from the stone house that was his home for so many Riffee years. I still return to Tuweap. It has become a part of my life. The juniper log remains in my antique pile and probably always will. next several hours. That's not quite true. It wasn't a fair trade he had a lot mare stories. Mostly I listened. At some point, I mentioned Edward Abbey's name and the conversation came to a sudden halt. In 1976, all seasonal rangers loved and adored Ed Abbey and ell permanent rangers feared mentioning his name. Being an Abbey Devotee was not a good move for a career ranger then (probably isn't now either) and, for a moment, I thought I'd committed a fatal blunder. " Do you know Abbey?" Riffee asked sharply. "Well..." I hesitated, "I've met him." Riffee got out of his chair and abruptly left the room. should we do? Should we leave? I looked at my friend and shrugged. What A couple of minutes later, Riffee returned with a copy of a book I was The It Wrench was now instantly recognized. Monkey Gang. Riffee vxaring his reading glasses. "The next time you see Abbey, you tell him that I don't think this Karo Syrup in the gas tank will do a damn bit of good. I mean about all it'll do is gum up the fuel filter. That syrup toould do a hell of a lot more good on pancakes, than pouring down the filler hole on some D9 Cat. Sand! That's the way to go! And it's everywhere. Tell him that." He was critiqueing the book for accuracy. "And heres something else..." It became clear to me that Ranger Riffee was not an ordinary career park ranger. And the longer he talked about his life in the Park Service, the more I realized how true it was. Except for a brief stint in the Army during World War II, Riffee had spent his entire career at the North Rim, at this isolated place. He loved it and he wouldn't leave, even when the Director of the National Park Service told him he had to. "Director Wirth...Connie wirth was just having a fit over me. He wanted me out iff there and I don't even know why. I think he believed I lacked ambition or something. But I got around him. " According to Riffee, Secretary Udall himself intervened on behalf of the unmotivated Tuweap ranger and John never had to worry about transferring again. But he did worry about the 65 mile dirt road that protected his isolation and all the beautiful country that had surrounded him for most of the last 35 years. Rumors were flying that someone wanted to pave it. "I'll tell you this," he said proudly, "I'll try every trick in the book...the Monkey Wrench Gang booh, to keep that asphalt out of here. And if that doesn't work they'll have to pave the road over my well-thumbe- d, dog-ear- dead body." He pondered that thought for a moment, and you had the feeling he knew this wonderful life of his couldn't go on forever. He said, "I know my days are numbered out here. But you know what I'd like? When I die, I wish they'd just stuff me and put me out there in a rocking chair on the porch. And maybe every once in a while, somebody could just give that rocker a push.Jhat would make me very happy." We said our goodbyes to John Riffee and promised to come back, but less than hoo years later he was dead. His friends buried him at Tuweap, illegally and without a permit. The State of Arizona demanded that his body be exhumed, but Merl Stitt, the superintendent of Grand Canyon National Park said "No. Leave him where he is." Some say it was the only good decision he ever made. But it must have made Riffee happy. Edie Eilender has a split personality. Her lifetime love affair with the mountains and the canyons keeps her on the move. Edie lives in Gold Hill. Colorado. sTopfeirx 254 WALLIS UNIT D EUGENE, OR 97402 Jim Stiles I admired the fact that he'd decided to stay at this one lonely outpost for his entire Park if you could call it that. I wanted to meet him. arrived late at the Toroweep Overlook, after dark, and did not realize what a precipitous place we'd selected to camp. Just a few feet from air sleeping bags the earth dropped away, more than thru thousand feet to the river below. " It's a good thing I don't walk in my sleep," I said. "You do," replied my friend. Service "career," We When the sun got high enough to warm us, toe broke camp and made the short drive to Riffee' s stone cabin. I walked to the side of his house to a side door and started to knock. But I hesitated for a moment. I'd just finished my first season at Arches National Park and I had grown weary iff tourists knocking on my door my residence, as I liked to point out. This ranger home was a bit different, however, and hardly the fish bowl I lived in. So I knocked. The door opened and there was Riffee. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and jeans and dippers, if I recall, and before I could open my mouth he said, "WeU! I didn't hear you drive up. You look like you guys could use a cup of coffee. Com flakes or rice Crispies? What suits you this morning?" A little taken aback by his instant enthusiasm and wanting to be sure I had the right guy, I asked, "Are you Ranger Riffee?" He snorted and said, "Whafs left of lam." Riffee invited us into his home, brought us I i. I. U J MUUHUL.... coffee i&sm and com flakes and we traded stories for the nr-ni- iif FOOD STORES 301 S. MAIN STREET Service Convenience Store Hot Dogs, Hamburgers. Pizza! 32 Flavor Soda Fountain Friendly Service Clean Rest Rooms Free popcorn with gas purchase Full CREDIT CARDS SAME AS CASH j: 8 (541)345-433- 8 The winter of 1976 was especially mild and dry, and the dirt road to Toroweep on the North Rim iff the Grand Canyon, usually snowed in and muddy that time of year, was open. I figured my new VW Rabbit could go anywhere that a jeep could, so I left the main highway near Pipe Spring? and headed south over unknown territory. I'd heard about Ranger Riffeethe legendary Riffee. And he was already something of a hero to me. 345-433- We're a wholesale bakery featuring whole and our new spelt breads grain, multi-grai- n made from organically grown flours. If you're in Eugene or on the Oregon coast, look for us at any of the natural food stores and at some supermarkets. (Our breads ship well too.) Give us a call if you're interested in some of the best bread in the West. Meeting Ranger Riffee ,31 UI i I WE RE ONLY 193 MILES FROMMOAB. If Lynn's Paradise Cafe can get customers this so way can we. lp, W |
