SOUTHWEST FOREST INDUSTRIES

Indian pictographs that we had missed before showed up clearly now. High above us were beautiful white paintings of people. One shelf had some simple ruins. Kanab is an Indian name meaning "willows." It is fifty to eighty years since this was a green valley. Overgrazing on the plateaus above caused floods that sliced through the bottom. The last such flood was within Pres Swapp's memory. The center channel is now two hundred feet wide in places. On a bank thirty feet above us, we saw a tree trunk chopped by an axe. Since it was washed down from the town of Kanab eighty miles away, it sets a pioneer date for this most recent erosion.

That was the day we started living off the land. Our return trip camp in Deer Creek featured this menu: baked barrel cactus; coal-roasted carp, (three, two pounds apiece); Brigham tea; watercress salad.

We have several original recipes now for cooking cactus and recommend barrel over cholla or beavertail. (The carp were caught on the Colorado beach beside Deer Creek Falls.) We have tried wild watercress in all the canyons and will say that the pointed leaf variety has the sharpest taste and Kanab's the tenderest flavor.

"Rosalie," said Kent one day on the way back, "what do you have in your pack to make it so heavy?" The list was pathetically simple. How could so little weigh so much? An extra pair of socks and underpants, a sweater, a sleeping bag, a nylon blouse. I did have too much tooth-paste and that's heavy. But I couldn't have done without my two-ounce packet of hair curlers. I was ready for a shampoo and set. That very day at noon, we lunched beside some good pools where I beauty-shopped to my feminine heart's content.

To our surprise, we made better time on the whole return trip without effort, even though we were steadily climbing in Kanab. How different it is when you're toughened up. Mel always says the time to start a hike is at the end of one. That's when you're in condition for it. Also, Kanab no longer seemed so hard after the obstacle courses of the Grand. No river party knows the rocks there the way we do. They haven't felt every one of them under their feet. We discovered, too, that you have a different feeling from when you're boating through. You're a part of the river then and close to the boats. When you're hiking, the river is something that gets in your way.

Disappointment has not obliterated an old tale of a lode of gold. There is an abandoned machine up in Hacks for grinding quartz. Uranium hunters looked in here, too. What role will Kanab play in the future?

Tracks of two mountain sheep, ewe and lamb, preceded us up-canyon for two days, while we wished for a peek at them. Something must have frightened them ahead of us, as they turned back and came face to face with us! Wheeling, they clicked up a sharp talus slope beside us and disappeared on a small bench up there. We hadn't gone more than a couple of yards, when they came clicking down the same slope behind us and rounded the curve down-canyon, the baby right behind its mother all the way. Quick of foot and quick of mind, they are beautiful animals.

Looking into a crevice slit, we found a winding hall-way a few yards long leading to a deep, quiet pool with a tiny skylight far above for illumination. Crevice Pool, we found out, is a rain barrel, not a spring.

Our last campsite was Maxwell, another side canyon, perhaps the gem of them all. Small and dainty, it was fragrant with the licorice odor of cliff roses abloom all over it. Wide, shallow terraces of smooth rock held basins of water that dripped down from one to another. A brilliant sunset lit up a great peak of white Kaibab limestone twenty five hundred feet above, making it shine gold through a deep notch of Supai red. We certainly had all different sounds of water for camping - big waterfalls, little ones, rushing creeks, bubbling streams, the Colo-rado's rapids and calm water, and Maxwell's dripping ponds.

On our fourteenth day, we still found it so hard to leave that we headed up Kanab to see Grama Canyon, before turning back to Hacks and our exit. Knowing it would disturb us to carry a speck of food back to the jeep, we sat down at the foot of the trail to finish a bag of candy all that was left of the oatmeal, powdered milk, sugar, tea, dates, cheese, jerky, dry soups, Jello, fruit and nuts we had started with two weeks before.

It had been our longest and toughest hike. We tallied over one hundred twenty-five miles, every one of them worth it. Said Kent, handing me a tiny horned toad to hold in my hand for a minute, "This has really put me in shape for those 'sitting down' jeep trips I'll be running the rest of the year. I'm ready for them now."

We're making paper in Arizona. In fact, readers of The Herald Examiner of Los Angeles, The Arizona Republic, The Phoenix Gazette, The Arizona Sun, Prescott Evening Courier, The Arizona Star, and many other dailies and weeklies around Arizona have been getting their news on our native product, SNOWFLAKE NEWS, for about a year now. Surely they have noticed its brightness and superior quality, and would be interested to know this is due to our Ponderosa pine of which it is made by Southwest Forest Industries, Inc. As its name implies, this is an industry depending on the forest for sawlogs and pulpwood which constitute its raw material to be made into lumber, paper, linerboard, corrugated containers, and related by-products.

Southwest Forest Industries is a diversified company with nineteen divisions and plant facilities, employing more than 3,000 people, with operations in Arizona, California, New Mexico, Texas, and Illinois. It is the largest forest products industry in the entire Southwest, ranking also among the nation's top ten producers of lum ber, and among the top five manufacturers of Ponderosa pine. With lumbering activities across the central high lands, sawmills at Flagstaff and MicNary, the paper mill near Snowflake, a wood-treating plant at Prescott, a cor rugated container plant at Glendale, and main offices in Phoenix, the bulk of Southwest's facilities, and two thirds of its employees, are în Arizona.

To one not acquainted with Arizona's natural resources, this type of industry in a "desert" state may come as a surprise. We have given much publicity to the scenic and recreational aspects of our forests. We have told of their grazing and forage values. We love them as protectors of wildlife, and know they are indispensable watersheds. No doubt it is less romantic, but the harvest and manufacture of Arizona's forest crops are important, too. Adding substantially to the state's economy, the wood-using, or forest, industries enjoy the same rank-fourth in total number of employees and amount of payroll-in Arizona as they do nationally. The payroll of Southwest Forest Industries alone from October 1961, through September, 1962 was $9,700,000. But Southwest Forest Industries is more than just a payroll. It is many people of many talents: woodsmen, railroaders, sawmill men, lumbermen, papermakers, con tainer engineers, carton designers, printers, bag makers, to name a few. It pressure treats wood, makes boxes, warehouses thousands of paper and lumber products. It operates motor fleets and retails building products. It serves as a lumber consultant to architects and builders. It is a package engineer for a variety of useful needs, from gift boxes to paper cups, from potato chips to color ful toys. Perhaps most important of of all, it it is a forest product researcher and conservationist of a precious nat ural resource. What it is and what it does is totally dependent on the forest. Its 2000 Arizona employees live and work in a variety of geographic, climatic, and social environments. This includes alpine slopes up to the timber line, quiet tree farms, lonely logging camps, an Indian reservation, noisy sawmill towns, and bustling urban centers, both mountain and desert.

Lumber production, for a hundred years the domi nant forest industry in Arizona, is Southwest's primary business, its Flagstaff and MeNary mills exceeding 150,000,000 board feet per year. Nearly 90% is of Ponderosa, "the pick of the pines," with Douglas fix, white fir, Englemann spruce, and a few other species making up the remainder. Production of these mils has always been a most important economic factor in their respective areas. They also have an interesting heritage. Commercial. lumbering at Flagstaff dates from the first little mill built by Edward Ayers in 1882 to supply ties and bridge timbers for the coming railroad. War jitters in 1916 Today, Cooley is a company-owned town known as McNary, a name that is synonymous with lumber in Arizona. When the post-war depression of 1921-22 and adverse conditions of the sheep and cattle business in the Southwest threatened to close the Pollock banks, financiers who came to the rescue took as security the greater portion of Mr. Pollock's enterprises, including the Flagstaff and Cooley mills, and the Apache Railway.

Now about that time the great timberlands in the South were becoming depleted, and partners of the W. M. Cady Lumber Company of Louisiana were looking far and wide for new sources for their mills. They had given up a deal in Mexico after being involved in a burning-bridge train wreck attributed to Pancho Villa; and a sixty-day tour of the Northwest had failed to find an adequate timber supply at a satisfactory price. Finally, they were prevailed upon to consider the defunct Flagstaff and Apache enterprises.

"It was difficult to imagine the existence of a great body of valuable timber in this arid state," wrote James Graham McNary afterwards in This Is My Life. But when they had looked over the situation very thoroughly, he said they were "agreeably surprised at the excellent quality of the timber, and greatly impressed with the possibilities of an operation in these forests."

The Louisiana lumbermen, and McNary, the El Paso, Texas, banker, completed their purchases late in 1923. These were lean, hard years for the launching of a new business; bat after importing some 500 of their experienced Louisiana help, along with two trainloads of household equipment, they had both mills running again by the winter of 1924. In order to maintain their established identity with the lumber industry, they agreed this part of the business would carry Cady's name, the railway would continue as the Apache, and the town renamed McNary.

I have digressed here a little from the making of wood and paper products for two reasons: first, neither industry sprang full-grown from the forest, as Minerva from Jupiter's brow. It has taken, and continues to take, more than the bounty of Nature and the vision and ingenuity of man. It takes a thing called capital and an economic system which rewards personal initiative, ability, judgment, and hard work. This system falls into disrepute with our enemies when it succeeds, and with ourselves when it fails.

Second, any salute to lumbering in Arizona must include Jim McNary. Clarence Budington Kelland called him the ideal American citizen. Scholar, musician, patron of the arts, politician, and financier, James McNary will probably prove the state's leading lumberman for all time. He had intended being a silent partner as he had been in the Louisiana enterprises; but when Mr. Cady was injured in a handcar accident, and immediate need for more working capital also arose, Jim took a reluctant three months' leave from his bank and came out to Arizona. He was to stay for twenty-five years, serving as president of the Cady Lumber Corporation and also of the Apache Railway.

There is not space to record here all of the ups and downs of the business, but in Arizona as elsewhere, the lumber business is directly related to the economy of the country. Time and again McNary was to raise capital for improvements, adding necessary dry kilns, additional steam power, the plant at Standard, and extending the rails. Business was going great sales were $200,000 per month when the depression hit in 1929. Sales dropped to absolute zero except for ties for the Santa Fe, but as Jim himself put it, you can't make ties without making lumber. Plants at Flagstaff and Standard were closed, and in 1936 the company went into receivership which was to last five years.

While other financiers were jumping out of high windows, McNary struggled with the Arizona woods. With the Santa Fe's purchase of ties, and Standard Oil, which company accepted receivership certificates in payment for fuel oil, gasoline, and lubricants, operations were continued at the company town which had no other employment. Though on a greatly reduced basis, and for a minimum number of employees, enough work continued so that at no time were residents of McNary on public relief. Somehow the organization stayed intact, properties kept insured, and valuable timber rights with the government protected.

When the property and assets of the Cady Lumber Corporation and its subsidiaries were sold at public sale on the steps of the Coconino County court house on July 31, 1935, James McNary was the only bidder. He continued as president of the newly-organized company, which was given the name of Southwest Lumber Mills. Slowly the lumber business followed the nation's prosperity into a recovery curve, though squeezed between high wages and wartime price ceilings. In 1945, a tenweek strike turned profits into loss. Some of the best years were greatly offset by serious fires. The mill and power plant at Flagstaff burned in December of 1947; and in about six months, the worst tragedy in the history of the company struck as fire destroyed planing mill, box factory, moulding factory, and dry storage sheds at McNary.

But there were red-letter days, too. Contracts were negotiated for additional stumpage on the White Mountain Apache Indian Reservation, and also from surrounding national forests. Since these were beyond the thirty-mile radius considered practical for logging by truck, the Apache Railway was extended high into the beautiful White Mountains of Apacheland where the new logging town of Maverick was created. These improvements became the basis for some of today's greater forest products industries.

In 1952, about two years after McNary's retirement, controlling interest of Southwest Lumber Mills was in this state. If left too long, however, it may develop a stain, so chemicals are added to prevent this. The 22acre pond at McNary will store 7 million board feet, and it is estimated that logs are worked from one end of the pond to the other so that average storage time is about three weeks.

One or two men, using pikes or cant hooks, feed the timbers, one at a time, into the log slip at the bottom of which a giant “bull chain” catches them with hooks and pulls them up to a debarker. This is a machine with adjustable knives which close in something like the shutters of a camera and rapidly debark the log as it travels through.

Next the log goes to the deck saw where a government scaler measures the footage, and the sawyer cuts it into lengths ranging from 8 to 16 feet. The deck saw measures about 8 feet in diameter, has 154 carbide teeth that will stay sharp for six months, and operating around 700 rpm, , slices through logs like a hot knife through butter. No wonder one costs approximately $5000!

The first boards are made at a carriage-and-bandsaw combination called the “head rig.” The logs ride back and forth on the carriage, while boards are cut from first one side and then another by 50-ft. bandsaws traveling at 125 miles per hour. The sawyer here has one of the most responsible jobs in the industry, for his is the duty of sawing each log to get the maximum number of boards from it. While determining the thickness of each board and the speed of the carriage, he must flip the log over from time to time in order to cut large planks with few blemishes. If you watch the head rig operations closely, you can soon judge by the knots that appear, just about when the sawyer will turn the log to another side. But while he is making these split-second decisions, he is also operating the machinery from his control panel. Best grades of lumber come from the sapwood, or outer layers of the log. The thick center timbers, called cants, may be moved to gang saws or resaws which cut them accurately into set thicknesses of one and two inches or they may be used for timbers or railroad ties.

You watch these operations from a high, safe catwalk; but you may also step into the filing room, where all saws are sharpened and conditioned. The band saws from the head rig must be changed for resharpening every four hours.

From your convenient position on the catwalk, you may follow the boards as they move on motor-driven rollers to circular saws in edgers, which square the edges and cut wide boards to narrower sizes, and then into the teeth of the trimmer ten circular saws in a line. An operator in a cage deftly touches a lever here and there, using whichever saw or combination of saws needed to square the ends and cut the boards into proper lengths before they go to the green chain.

Grading and sorting are jobs not entrusted to machines, but to human judgment. After the timber is stacked in many different categories, it is moved by straddle trucks to the stacker, which automatically places sticks between each layer of boards, so that the warm air of the kilns will dry them evenly. Temperatures and humidity in the kilns are regulated by automatic controls, and lumber remains in them for 40 to 160 hours, depending upon thickness and grade.

The unstacker reverses the stacking process, and

East, and volcanic Bill Willianıs and San Francisco Mountains zoo miles to the west, runs a great escarp ment known as the Mogollon Rim: As a geologic feature of grandeur and prominence, it closely rivals that of. Grand Canyon; but its Ponderosa forests have no rivals at all.

So isolated and inaccessible was this area and much of it still is that little of it had been taken up as private lands when national forest reservations were set aside. Here are concentrated fear of Arizona's national forests: the Apache, Sitgreaves, Tonto, and Coconino, These, with the Fort Apache Indian Reservation, and some state and private lands, including Southwest's own 87,000acre tree farm, are harvested on a sustained yield basis, both for sawlogs and pulpwood. The Forest Service's contract with Southwest for six million cords of pulp wood, to be gathered over a 30-year period, is the Serv Ice's largest sale ever made in continental United States.

Considering the many square miles from which raw materials must be gathered, you see the necessity of the Transportation Division. This consists of the Apache Railway which connects Maverick and McNary with Santa Fe's mainline at Holbrook, and from which a spur runs to the Snowflake paper mill: The truck division is a fleet of highway vehicles which deliver and transport wood and paper products from the mills and plants to market in six southwestern states.

Now, having been assured a supply of wood and water, a simple but efficient means of disposal, and a transportation system, you want to know how wood is made into pulp, and pulp into paper.

There are two chief processes of making pulp: the chemical, by which wood chips are cooked in solution under steam pressure to dissolve the substance (lignin) which holds wood fibers (cellulose) together, and the mechanical, or groundwood process, by which logs ave held against grindstones and literally frasżled while à spray of water keeps them from charring. Krait is made by the chemical process, newsprint requires ground. wood; and as both kinds of paper are made at the Snow Jake Division, there are actually two mills in the plant. Since those have many common needs, the plant was designed compactly so that stuck "nerve canters as steam controls, generator board and main electrical switch board, water treatment and recovery controls are grouped together and centrally located for each section of the mill. On a third floor, above and paralleling the pape machines are variotis offices and laboratories easily acces sible to chemists and engineers. Bleach, evaporating, and causticizing plants were also incorporated in the "whole mill concept. While the operations work in close approximation, it is simpler to follow one process at a tán tine. Let's beghi with the chemical-sodium sulphate being the one used here and the making of chips into kraft, that strong, brown paper usually used for wrapping, bags, fiberboard, etc. Chips aniving by boxcars are unloaded on a con veyor beneath the railroad tricks and blown "a mile a minute" through a 600-ft. long posumatic tabe overhead to one of three digestors. These are steal tanks in which. a "recipe of 25 tons of wood chips and 13,000 gallons of white liquor and water are cooked for 24 hours at 350 degrees F. under steam pressure of 110 lbs. por square inch. The resulting thick soup, called hot black stock, will produce some thirteen tons of pulp froin ane "cook." Scrasning removes knots and uncooked pieces, which go back to a digester for re-cooking, while washing removes Left-over chemicals. Black Hquor, after evaporating and other treatment, is recovered and re-used. Some chem-icals remain in the dissolved ignin, but even these are partially recovered from ash when it is burned. One of the most interesting discoveries I made about the plant is that it produces most of its own power by use of a by-product. Once considered only waste, lignin is evapo-zated until containing 1576 moisture, and used as fuel to make steam, which is turned into electricity of which the mill uses plenty!

The pulp first-comes into sight at three brown stock washers where you actually see it washed from a dirty brown to s nice tan before it disappears into holding tanks. (There are many storage facilities along the line of manufacture, so if one part of the plant is out of oper ation, the rest carries on.) From here some 50 to 70 tons daily are sidetracked to a 3-stage bleach plant between the two mills, and eventually over to the ground wood mill to be mixed with pulp those. The farnish for newspulp is 75% groundwood and 256 bleached kraft. Before being fed to the paper-making machine (Four drizier), the pulp goes through the Jordan machina, which rubs sud frays the fibers so that a wolform sheet of paper will be formed. Since the pulp passes into the Fourdriniet in a 99% water suspension, this is called the "wet end of what is actually a series of machines. Passing, onto a forward-moving wire sersen which also vibrates from side to side, the fibers become interlaced,. while water drains through the meshes, alded by suction underneath. The wet mat is picked off the belt by felt rollers and passed through a sories of heavy presses to remove the remaining moisture and compact the sheet. Now strong enough to sustain its own weight, the fast moving paper enters the "dry and" of the Fourdrinder, going through a series of steam-heated cylinders, and the calender stacks where it is ironed to desired smoothness. The kraft I watched being made wound up as a 15-ton jumbo roll which would be rewaund to customers' needs. 65,000 tons of kraft and linerboard, made in different thicknesses and finished, are produced annually and go to various outlets. You may see kraft made fato fiber boxés in Southwest's plant in Glendale, Arizona.

Now let's see the mechanical, or groundwork, process by which 75,000 tons of newsprint are made anmi ally here. Most of this has been cut by contract leggers, and anives both by rall and truck. In 5-ft. lengths and In diameters of 5 to 18 inches, it is called roundwood rather than logs. Lifted by crane onto a conveyor belt, these short legs go into a huge drom where they simply knock the bark off sach other in a slow rotation. The bark goes to a mulching grinder for eventual use as a soil conditioner. Composted, it will contaju 95% organic, mattor, have strong acidity, low salinity, and high, phor phate content.

From a rubber belt sorting table, accepted round-wood moves to a storage tank, while the rejected is shunted to the chipper which quickly swallows it up like a garbage disposer takes potato peelings. Douglas fir is kept out of the groundweed mill. As needed, roundwood is fed separately to the three grinding stones, which are 5 feet wids, and the same in diameter, and covered by a thick layer of carborundum. Surprisingly, the surface of a stone is not very rough. Each is tumed by a 6000 hp direct drive electric motor. Chemicals are added to the water that cools the stone, but this pulp is simpler and easaar to screen and wash than kraft. Arriving at the head-box of the nowsprint machine, and now combined with the proper proportion of bleached kraft, the ground wood pulp is made into newsprint much as kraft is made, except, being thinner and lighter, fewer dryers are needed, and only one calendar stack is used. The 258-inch Fourdrinier (240-inch trim) spews forth its creation faster than the eye can see. The final giant roll is cut into four, each of which weighs a ton, and then inspected. This last job is not left up to a machine, oddly enough, but is one of quite a few jobs left to man's experience and responsibility. And here is an interesting note: when either man or machine has made a mistake, it is corrected by use of a re-pulper. The only snafu I saw all day, however, was that the re-pulper had found the kraft trimmings so strong, it was having a hard time beating them into pulp again!

Visiting either the Flagstaff or McNary areas, you have a glimpse of what Arizona's Ponderosa forests are like. If, however, you have never been closer to them than Snowflake or the southern desert cities, it is hoped you have opportunity to visit them. They are beautiful in any season. Local inquiry should be made in June, for in this dry month extreme fire danger often closes certain areas. The very highest areas may be snowbound in winter, while others are good for winter sports.

Folders containing detailed maps and much pertinent information are available from local forest headquarters or from the regional office of the Forest Service at Albuquerque. These are helpful in following recreational routes, locating points of interest, and knowing what facilities are available at various camp and picnic grounds. If you wish to follow the Mogollon Rim, you will need maps for both Sitgreaves and Coconino Forests. This is primitive country, overnight stops few and far between, and there are no fast turnpikes or freeways. Taking it easy, you can enjoy the several life zones through which you pass, and when you stand on the brow of the Mogollon Rim and look across an endless sea of green timber, your time is repaid a thousand fold.

Now perhaps as you build your picnic fire or set up camp in these forests, it comes to you that just anybody, like you or me, can't go around chopping down Uncle Sam's trees. So you wonder about a big company using millions of board feet, and what we little guys get out of it. Again, because we are concerned with our own personal use of the forest, we forget that these reservations were set aside in the first place to protect our timber resources (and in some cases, watersheds) and the many industries and communities dependent upon them. These lands were not locked up, nor except for wilderness areas to be preserved in their original state as are national parks. Rather, they were to provide a self-renewing resource which, under proper management, should last forever. Anyone who has raised a garden understands the benefits of thinning young plants and harvesting mature ones, a principle which likewise applies to our forests.

The Forest Service does not cut timber, but sells it to commercial operators (and local residents) by competitive bids. Harvesting is done on an individual tree-selection basis, being pre-marked by the Forest Service. Removal of mature, overmature, less vigorous and otherwise imperfect trees from virgin stands liberates more promising trees from over-crowding and from too much competition for sunlight, water, and nutrients from the soil. In sapling-sized Ponderosa, this same competition often results in stagnation of the stands. Removal of some of these concentrates growth in fewer trees per acre, but increases the average annual growth of wood, and makes finer crops for future harvests.

Another crop that is being harvested for a Southwest subsidiary, the wood-treating plant at Prescott, is utility poles. Tall, straight Ponderosa pines up to 60 feet tall, that mature without reaching sawlog size, are especially abundant in the Prescott Forest, but are also cut from the Coconino. Railroad ties and posts for highway guard rails are also treated in a 90-ft. long steel cylindrical chamber which can treat 75 poles or II trams of ties at one time. The treatment consists of steam conditioning followed by a vacuum, after which the cylinder is filled with creosote preservative and kept under pressure, the amount of pressure and time depending on moisture, size, and density of the poles, posts, or ties. Poles are steamcleaned aim is to have them clean enough to climb while wearing a Sunday suit. In fact, the whole operation is clean in this, the only wood-treating plant between Albuquerque and the West Coast.

This more complete harvesting all around will aid modern forest management at maintaining maximum timber yields. At the same time, it must harmonize with other uses. The commercial forest lands of Arizona provide not only 100% of the raw material for our forest industries, but host nearly 80% of recreation visits, 60% of the big game hunting, 75% fishing use, and about one-third livestock forage!

In ideal multiple-use management, each use complements the others. Where there are human beings, there are bound to be human conflicts, and so the perfect balance may never be quite attained. Yet it is very encouraging to find a capitalistic corporation, agreeing by contract and paying for the privilege, devoted to better use and conservation of a natural resource. On the other hand, the government benefits, too. Through such timber sales, it markets a commodity for the people, 25% of the receipts going to counties in which sales are made, and an additional 10% toward roads that are built within forest boundaries. But there are more than monetary values: by proper harvesting, other uses are improved. Watersheds, streams, lakes benefit; openings provide better forage and browsing for livestock and game animals; and wildfowl find food and cover in low plants which are able to grow. More space for that fastest-growing use, recreation, is provided. Logging roads will open up new country to hunter, fisherman, and stumpsitter alike-up where "No Trespassing" signs are unknown. So as we enjoy recreational, health, and esthetic values of these forests, let's not forget how much this self-renewing natural resource, and the forest products industries, contribute to the stability of sawmill town, industrial city, the state of Arizona, and the nation.

JOHN WESLEY POWELL

Our congratulations to you on your very brilliant article with the extremely vivid color photographs of the Glen Canyon Project and Lake Powell in your January issue. The narrative was excellent and the photographs superb.

I wonder if it was just a mental slip that a short note or short bibliography on John Wesley Powell, the great conservationist of the 1860-70-80's was left out. It was his foresight 80 years ago that stopped the annihilation and gross misuse of the natural resources and wilderness of the United States. Were it not for this one single man with his withered, amputated left arm, whose grasp of the impending disaster of selfish individuals to cut this country up for what they could get out of it, such areas as the Grand Canyon, most of the national parks, certainly the National Park Service, U. S. Coast and Geodetics Survey, and that area which was to be Lake Powell, Glen Canyon, and all of the natural wonders of the United States would have long since disappeared.

For the information of your readers, if they do wish to know a little bit about this fantastic individual, Wallace Stegner's book, Beyond the One-Hundredth Meridian will be of inestimable value to them.

Richard J. Martin, M.D. Tucson, Arizona

RANCH WIFE:

As I wrote you when Jo Jeffers' article Ranch Wife appeared in your September issue, 1962, I thought it was one of the most charming ever to appear in your publication. I have read it time and again and my friends have enjoyed it as much as I have.

Later, in one of your letter comments, you reported that Mrs. Jeffers was expanding her article into a book. Has anything come of the project? Her story would make a wonderful book.

Mrs. T. J. Cameron El Paso, Texas

We have ever presented, judging by our mail) will be pleased to learn Mrs. Jeffers has completed her book and it has been accepted for publication by Doubleday. The book will appear, we understand, this coming fall. We'll keep you informed. And, may we add this footnote, this is one book we'll recommend without having seen it.

FRIENDS IN GERMANY

Yesterday I received the April edition of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. That is always a very happy moment not only for me, but also for many friends. It does not matter that they cannot read English, the beauty of the pictures is unequalled. Thanks to the kindness of a dear friend in Fort Smith, Arkansas, I can expect the magazine every month. Being German, I was so fortunate to travel through Arizona in April, 1962, during a two months vacation. The vastness and beauty of your country was most impressive. How can I ever forget the miracle of the Grand Canyon, the cactus in the abundance of color, the evening drives through the country around Phoenix. Phoenix: this city stands for beauty in modern days planning. We more or less show off with our cities, ancient cities that were designed and built by our ancestors. Phoenix shows off with the ingenuity of its present inhabitants. I pleasantly recall the hours in Phoenix and the friendliness of its people. ARIZONA HIGHWAYS brings memories back I would never like to miss.

May I thank you for the grand job you perform by having us deal in the drastic development of Arizona but also in the conservation of its natural beauty.

Being the proud owner of eleven issues, some dated in 1962, some 1963 and all from 1964, I hardly ever have one handy for myself since friends like to borrow them to see the marvelous pictures, and ask many, many questions if it is possible that a country has so much beauty.

Erica L. Schaumburg Petersberg, Germany

ANNIE MILLER'S ROSE

The Millers were the first to come And settle up our way, In the early part of the eighties The oldtimers say.

Old Miller watched the others come, Then when their roots were down He made a point to stop in, On his way to town.

He'd say, "T'would please my Annie If you'd take these cuttings of her rose,. Most others brought in don't do so good, But hers 'bout always grows."

Old Miller would never come again. It was his wife we felt we knew, Though she had died that first winter After they'd come through.

Alfred Rhodes

A WORLD SO VAST; A WORLD SO SMALL

Small world, I'm sure Columbus thought, As now must think the Astronaut, Or pilot jetting off the ground At speed beyond the sound of sound, Or neighbors chancing on a street In distant cities where they meet. "Small world," we say, and so it seems, As space and time are conquered dreams.

Yet when you're gone a day from me I know the world's enormity.

W. Swift Richardson

LONELY SOUNDS

Around the bend a diesel engine came Without a huff or puff upgrade. Its smooth ascent was likened to a swan's Smooth glide, but for the noise it made. It had a growl its own, and when it blew Its horn, for all the world, the sound Was like a mad bull in an open field With all the barriers let down.

I thought of the open spaces where I'd been, When I was drifting or was broke, And how the lonely whistle of a train, A kindred language to me spoke; Of how at the outskirts of a desert town, A banner of rolling smoke unfurled, As the engine of my nostalgic memories In the distance around the mountain curled.

I liked the huff and puff, its energy And noisy pride. Without a break, It said, "I think I can, I think I can," With all the effort it could make. And with the tiresome long run finally made, It pulled into a distant station Exhausted, and heaved a hissing relief sigh, But not without a slight elation.

So when I long to hear a lonely sound, And the diesel bull-horn brings a scowl, I pack back in the desert mountains now, And listen to the coyote's howl.

Miriam Rupert

THOSE WHO REMAINED

Only the dead remained when the boom had ended . . .

Couched in the dust of their crumbling boxes, Deep in the shaft-scarred crevice of the hills, Hiding in time the hopes they never claimed, Much as the rocks that shelter them must hide Some always secret vein of ore untouched.

Still, who can know they have not found at last, Snug in their silent union with the hills, More than the living ever took away.

Peggy C. Franz

OPPOSITE PAGE

"MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY" BY M. PAUL JARRETT. Photo taken a few miles east of McNary on Arizona 73, in the White Mountains of Arizona. The mountain area offers many inviting places such as this for the pleasure of the summer vacationist. 5x7 Deardorff camera; Ektachrome E3; f.18 at 1/50th sec.; 6" Dagor lens; August; clear day; Lunasix 19 meter reading; ASA rating 64.

BACK COVER

"SUMMER DAY - RAINBOW LAKE" BY M. PAUL JARRETT. Rainbow Lake is located in the White Mountains between Show Low and Pinetop. The Arizona Game and Fish Department keeps this small but attractive lake well stocked with trout, making the lake a popular center for summer fishermen. 5x7 Deardorff camera; Ektachrome E3; f.11 at 1/50th sec.; 6" Dagor lens; August; clear day, late afternoon; Lunasix 18 meter reading.