Passages

Wallace Stegner

   The Dean of Western conservation thought.

   Stegner’s interest in the southwest began with a few Glen Canyon trips with Nevills in the 1940’s, when he was writing Beyond the Hundredth Meridian, the definitive biography of John Wesley Powell. In 1955 he was tapped by David Brower to edit This is Dinosaur, the first coffee table conservation book. It was this project that first brought together the powerful conservation coalition that defeated Echo Park Dam and came near defeating the entire Colorado River Storage Project. Stegner wrote many great books on the West, winning the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award along the way, and becoming a great chronicler, proponent and conscience for conservation thought in the Arid West. He died April 13 at the age of 84.

   Once I said in print that the remaining western wilderness is the geography of hope, and I have written, believing what I wrote, that the West at large is hope’s native home, the youngest and freshest of America’s regions, magnificently endowed and with the chance to become something unprecedented and unmatched in the world.

   I was shaped by the West and have lived most of a long life in it, and nothing would gratify me more than to see it, in all its subregions and subcultures, both prosperous and environmentally healthy, with a civilization to match its scenery…

   But when I am thinking instead of throbbing, I remember what history and experience have taught me about the West’s past, and what my senses tell me about the West’s present, and I become more cautious about the West’s future. Too often, when they have been prosperous, the western states have been prosperous at the expense of their fragile environment, and their civilization has too often mined and degraded the natural scene while drawing most of its quality from it.

   So I amend my enthusiasm, I begin to quibble and qualify, I say, yes, the West is hope’s native home, but there are varieties and degrees of hope, and the wrong kinds, in excessive amounts, go with human failure and environmental damage as boom goes with bust.

from:

Where the Bluebird Sings to the Lemonade Springs:
Living and Writing in the West
Wallace Stegner
Random House 1992

Maribeth Riffey

   Many of us knew and loved the Riffeys, long time, nay, permanent fixtures on the Rim at Tuweap. After more than 40 of years rangering there, John died in 1980. Maribeth, who married John in 1965, was a well known naturalist and split her time between Tuweap and teaching at Western Washington University. She earned a Doctorate in Ornithology from Washington State University.

   She was often along as an interpreter on Grand Canyon Expeditions trips and one of her treatises on the biology of the Canyon is included in the latest Belknap guide.

   Meribeth died on April 15 and was laid to rest at Tuweap next to John. May their spirits ever watch over us.

a night a river and a friend

As high above on rocky crags,
the snow began to melt,
I searched to find the words to say,
exactly how I felt.

It’s evening here on river side,
the water rushes past,
We wish there was no outside world,
We wish this time could last.

The beauty of the canyon walls,
the beauty of your face,
Reminds me why I’m here with you,
to share this sacred place.

We have no inhibitions,
down here there are no lies,
I pause to watch the setting sun,
reflected in your eyes.

The canyon wren,
gives one last song,
I hold you tight,
as night comes on.

Otis Willoughby