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Canyon jobs short on companions and bathrooms, long on sweet silence
By Suzanne Stevens Galloway
If you lived or worked in the Logan Canyon, like wilderness ranger Sherrie Mitchell or hyrdoelectric plant operator Thayne Binggeli, the Logan River would be your front porch or office. / Photo by Mike Lindsay. Editor's note: This story was produced for the USU mass communication class "Beyond the Inverted Pyramid," COMM 3110. "We better get you oriented, gal" the wilderness ranger exclaims as she maneuvers around the counter to the rack holding an assortment of brochures about Logan Canyon. The extremely helpful Logan Canyon guru is named L.J., an enthusiastic, 36-year-old with short brown hair and blond highlights. She smiles and winks at me as she unfolds the brochure and plops it on the counter. In between phone calls and radio reports, L.J. gives a vocal tour of the canyon with the brochure as a visual aid. L.J. wears a tan button-up, long sleeve shirt. Her jeans are grass green and are cinched up with a heavy duty strap-like belt. Her badge reads, "L.J. Western" and underneath that, "Wilderness Ranger." It's a select few who know what the initials L.J. stand for, and those who do are sworn to solemn secrecy. "It's the name my mother gave me that I didn't like," L.J. says with a laugh. L.J., the information assistant at the Logan Ranger District of the U.S. Forest Service visitors center, finds it peculiar that I'm attempting to write a paper about people who live and work in Logan Canyon without really knowing the canyon. As she gets a few seconds every now and then, amid her other duties, she points out the sites on the map inside the brochure. But I am distracted by a newcomer who looks like the first worthy candidate for an interview. Sherrie Mitchell, a wilderness ranger, is my first consultant to explain the working activities that go along with maintaining the vitality of Logan Canyon. Mitchell stands next to me. She comes up a little past my shoulders, if you count her floppy, army green rain hat. She is probably pushing 5 feet, 6 inches tall with her steel toed black boots on. Mitchell is thorough of her observations of the day's excursions.
"I noticed a lot of smoke in the southeast," she reports to L.J. It is Mitchell's job to notice abnormal occurrences in the canyon. As she uses a walkie talkie to report the situation, I estimate her age to be 23. She turns out to be 33. Not being too persuaded by the conventions of society, Mitchell's legs are tan, yet unshaven. Her army green cargo shorts halt near her lower thigh. A button-up, forest green shirt and badge complete her uniform. When she was done with the reports of the day I asked her if she would chat for a few minutes about her job. Her job is to patrol Swan Flats, far up the canyon. Mitchell looks for ATV enthusiasts or motorcyclists who are off the designated trail. Mitchell doesn't have the authority to give out tickets but she does remind people where it is legal to drive. The Forest Service has a clearly defined travel map for all to use, so canyon visitors don't find themselves on unbeaten paths. This is the seventh summer Mitchell has worked in Logan Canyon. The six previous summers she was on trail crew. The trail crews made the trails more accessible by pruning bushes, building water dips to divert water off the trail and removing dead logs that were eroding. If it were up to Mitchell, she would "spike out every night." That is wilderness ranger's lingo for camping. Being out in the mountains alone is what Mitchell loves most about her job. While working on trail crew, Mitchell took part in a project that went from Tony Grove to Green Canyon. They did some improvements on the trail, which stretched for 13 miles. In this case an overnighter was necessary and Mitchell didn't mind one bit. A massage therapy business in town keeps Mitchell closer to the flare of traffic lights and bustling people than she would like. Sometimes she needs to rearrange her business in the summer just to accommodate her job with the Forest Service. "It's a good balance," Mitchell admits about her double duty. She wants to keep her massage therapy clients so she juggles the two jobs. "There's something about living up there, the whole pace of life is slower, the noise is minimal." We wrapped up our interview and I felt somewhat accomplished in my undertaking to write about the workers and residents of Logan Canyon. I hopped in my car and decided to absorb the canyon scenery on four wheels. I could hardly see through the layer of smeared dust on my windshield as the sun reflected off it. The two-lane highway meandered like a stream, dividing the majestic mountain range. I leaned forward gripping the steering wheel to get a better view of the peaks. Way up high I could see a half moon. It looked as though it was dissolving into the deep azure sky. The mountainsides were covered with shrubs, aspen trees with orange leaves and evergreen trees. Then out of the mural of trees emerges a house. I imagine the residents feel quite fortunate to live in such a prime location. What could be more delightful then living in the natural oasis of the canyon. Thayne Binggeli, a hydroelectric plant operator, has lived there for 29 years. How might a person get to live in a house in Logan Canyon? Work for the city. The city owns the house. Binggeli and his wife have raised two children in the white, two story home on the side of the highway. "You had to be here on site so if anything went down you would be here to fix it. For years it was required to live here," Binggeli explains. "That was in the days when there weren't fancy computers to run the plant," he continues. Binggeli runs the hydroelectric plants in the canyon. The number of workers for the plants has dwindled over the past few years. One guy quit, one guy died. Then the city decided that one guy could do the job. Binggeli is the main man. Binggeli recounts the challenge of raising a family in the canyon. "It was trying. We couldn't get bus service out here." Logan school board members told the family if there were six kids living in the canyon then they would send a bus, Binggeli said. When six kids moved into the area, Binggeli reported it to the school board. By that time the quota was eight children. When eight kids were in the vicinity the requirement was 12 children. So, they never had bus service for their daughter and son. As magnificent as it may seem to live in the canyon, Binggeli brought to light some unique difficulties of living there. "You had no television until they decided to use satellites, we didn't get mail delivery and you would see no sun from mid-October until the end of February," Binggeli said. "It was especially trying for the kids," was Binggeli's regret. There were no playmates for the children. The Bosworth children come close to having a similar childhood. Although their canyon life is not year round, the Bosworth children live in the canyon three months out of the year with their parents, Gordon and Bobbie. Gordon and Bobbie are forest rangers in Logan Canyon. Gordon, known as "Boz," and Bobbie Bosworth have two children, Teal, their 15-year-old daughter, and Ske, their 11-year-old son. Boz remembers how fun it was watching their kids grow up in the canyon. "We have great photo albums of our little kids by a fire hydrant or water spigot," he says. The Bosworths have worked in Logan Canyon for 15 years. Their summer residence is the ranger station at Tony Grove. The ranger station was built in 1907. It has two bedrooms and a beautiful front porch, a wood burning stove, no hot water or electricity and all the lights run on propane, Boz explains. "It's been in use since the time of covered wagons," he continues. "We let our kids grow up without electricity so they wouldn't get steered into television," Boz explains. The Bosworths feel it is important to let their children explore the environment and entertain themselves that way. The family's favorite pastimes include canoeing, biking, fishing and kayaking. Each June the family of four packs up and moves to the ranger station that is still as primitive as it was when covered wagons frequented it. "There is no bathroom, just an outhouse," Bobbie points out. Life in the canyon is serene for the Bosworths. "There's something about living up there, the whole pace of life is slower, the noise is minimal," Bobbie describes. When the Bosworths make a trek into Logan for groceries they say it seems insane with the cars and pace of life. "Everyone seems angry," Bobbie says. The Bosworths' job consists of driving the back roads and hiking the trails and educating people about the environment. "We want people to camp in a way that makes minimal impact on the environment, to leave as little [change or waste] as possible," Boz explains. An issue that is faced regulary by the forest rangers is conflicting use of the land. "[The land] is supposed to be for multiple use, but that doesn't mean everybody is doing something on the same plot of land at the same time," Bobbie explains. If you have a horse going up a trail and a mountain bike going down the same trail there is a good chance there will be a disruption. "Sometimes we joke about the fact that if we kept . . . boys between the ages of 14 and 23 out of the forest, we would eliminate a large part of our problem," Bobbie says with a laugh. Although Bobbie jokes about keeping boys out of the canyon she actually feels the most important part of their job is relating to visitors. Bobbie makes it a point to be considerate of canyon visitors because this may be the only vacation of the year for them and she doesn't want to spoil it. "If I walk into [a camp site] obnoxious that is not fair. Most times the campers don't know they are doing something wrong," Bobbie says. Frequent mistakes canyon explorers make include parking their campers too close to the water, littering and going to the bathroom in the wrong places. When the Bosworths educate children about the environment they point out that humans are the visitors, the chipmunks live in the canyon every day. "You're visiting and it's not fair to the little creatures if you leave litter," Bobbie explains to the children. In the fall and winter Boz and Bobbie continue to educate children, but in a classroom setting. Boz works as a biology teacher and Bobbie is a school counselor at a Cache Valley school. Their winter homestead is a rusty colored, two story log cabin in Hyde Park. This cabin is equipped with running water, heat and electricity. But the kids are only allowed to watch two videos a week."I think the reason we keep [working in the canyon] every year is we
feel we are on a mission, in trying to get people to respect the canyon
and respect the environment," Boz says. |
Archived Months:
September
1998 |
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