I was just finishing my junior year at the State College of Iowa and looking for adventure and summer employment. My older friend Jack, who lived across the street, had spent several summers as a ranger at Grand Teton National Park and he told me all about it. I was encouraged to give rangering a shot. I was headed to the Tetons.
I discovered that becoming a ranger wasn't quite that easy, so Jack gave me some tips. Number One was to mail as many resume letters to every National Park in the country as you could. So I did. Every night when I wasn't studying for finals I was sending letters. I started with Grand
Teton National Park. Then Yellow Stone Park. Yosemite was next along with the Grand Canyon. Then the Great Smokey National Park, Glacier National Park and more. Then I waited. Nothing!
So I sent more letters and waited and waited.
My parents left to visit relatives in Illinois and South Dakota. When they left, I was alone. My brother went with my parents. My sister had long ago gone to live in Denver. I was giving up hope for a summer in a National Park.
It was hot. I was disgruntled and angry at myself. The chance of getting any summer job was passing, especially a job in a National Park.
I was lying on the couch on the front porch when the phone rang. I thought it was one of my buddies who wanted to go down to the Circle for a couple of brews. But that wasn't it. There was a man on the line who identified himself as the superintendent of Lassen Volcanic National Park in California.
I was overwhelmed. He told me that he had read my letter, and he asked me if I was interested in a job at Lassen. I stuttered and said, "YES!" He asked me how soon I could be there. I said that I was going to be there as soon as I can. He said we'll expect you.
He said that I would have to purchase my ranger uniform at Fort Collins.
My mother always had some money stuffed away just for "those" kinds of circumstances. I knew where the money was and I took less than $100. I loaded up my '54 Chevy with what I thought I needed, filled up the tank, checked the tires, and I was ready. While the Chevy was drivable, it needed some attention. It took me most of the day to get on my way. It was late afternoon when I finally pulled out of our drivcway.
I had gone on a ski trip over spring, so I was familiar with the trip on I 80 . But I wasn't prepared for the Colorado deer. I hit one on the right front fender. It took me most of the day to get on my way again.
My sister had moved to Denver to get her Masters Degree at Denver U and had a baby girl. I knew how to get to her home, so I moved in for the night. I took care of the baby while she did some shopping. I was worn out so I spent the night.
The next morning I called the Park Superintendent to tell him that I was on my way, which I was at noon. The Chevy was running fairly well.
It's a long and lonely drive from Denver to Lassen Volcanic National Park. I had no idea how long. In my home state of Iowa I could cross the entire state in a matter of hours, but it took me more than a day to cross Colorado. In Iowa I could always wave to a friendly farmer as I passed by, but in Colorado I was alone. I was amazed at the changing landscapes, mountains, deserts, open space and forests. I crossed into Utah late in the evening and found a place to sleep in a little town I'll never see again. At one place I slept on a picnic table at a highway rest stop. I was concerned about the Chevy. It was hot. I was thirsty. I was in the middle of nowhere but it was beautiful.
I crossed over into Utah and it was much the same. I pushed on to get as far as I could, but stopped frequently at a gas stations because I didn't know when I would see the next one.
My brother had a little portable radio which I grabbed before I left Iowa. Why not? He was off with my parents and I was alone. I could pick up some radio signals, but they went in and out. Yeah, I was lonely.
I entered Nevada and stopped at a gas station. While the attendant filled my tank, I lost fifty cents at the slot machine. There was a big flashing sign with a nearly naked show girl on top.
I wouldn't have seen something that in Iowa
My goal for the day was Reno. I knew I was getting close to my goal. In fact, I was only four hours away.
The landscape was changing, more forest land. I was on Highway 36 and I knew that it would take me to the Park.
I was a sorry-looking vagabond when I drove up the Lassen National Park headquarters. I walked in and introduced myself to the Park Superintendent. We shook hands and I took a deep breath. I will never forget that moment. I was a Ranger!
Mineral, California, was a very quaint little community with the Park Headquarters, a gas station, which served as a grocery store as well, and a population of about 85 full time residents.
I was introduced to the regional ranger who escorted me to my cabin eight miles up highway 89 to the Southwest entrance station where I was to reside for the next three months. The cabin was of WPA vintage and only large enough for me and my two roommates. Dick Black was the oldest of the three of us and was a veteran of ranger life. I shared the bunk room with Mike Katz, another ranger. He also had some experience. That meant that I did the dishes and cleaned the cabin
Our job was to greet the park visitors and collect their entrance fees. Our little kiosk was hardly large enough for the two of us to move around. But we managed. Dick was responsible for patrolling the road from the entrance to the summit of the road, an elevation of over 8,500 feet.
The air was clean and fresh except for the sulphur smell that settled from the Sulphur Works up the road.
When my watch was over I drove across the Park to Manzanita Lake at the north end of the park. That was where the action was. Rangers were everywhere, so I introduced myself and entered the visitor station. From Manzanita Lake there was a beautiful view of Lassen Peak. I was overwhelmed. I told myself that I had to hike up Lassen Peak. And I did. Not just once but several times over the summer. Whenever I was able I explored that wonderful discovery.
And so the summer went on, working at the entrance station and exploring the park. I knew it would have to come to end, and it did. I packed up the Chevy, and said goodbye to Lassen Volcanic National Park. I had to complete my schooling. But I knew I would return.
And return, I did, many times over the years. Sixteen years ago my wife and I bought a home at Lake Almanor, just a 40 minute drive from Lassen. We go there often and love to take family and friends.
