University of Idaho School of Forestry - Forester Yearbook (Moscow, ID)

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CLASS OF IQ33 RALPH HUGH AHLSKOG fGeneo'a,l F o'rest1'y j Lewis and Clark High School, Spokane, Wash. Xi Sigma Pi, Sec.-Fiscal Agent, 4. High Honors, 3. HAROLD GILSON BROWN fGe'neral Forestryj Port Townsend High School, Wash. WILLIAM VIN-CENT CRANSTON KGGWGTGZ Forestryj Union High School, Mt. Vernon, Wash. KENNETH MILES DANIELS fRcmge Memagemeutj Moscow High School, Idaho. High Honors, 2 and 3. Xi Sigma Pi. WILLIAM WARREN ENSIGN KGe'neo'al Forestry Q Hawarden High School, Iowa. GEORGE MORRIS FISHER fG6'lL6'I'CLl Forestrfyj Harlan High School, Iowa. Xi Sigma Pig Forester, 3 and 45 Sigma Highest Honors, 2, 3, and 4. Senior Forestry Award, 4. HUME COLLAR FRAYER KGe1zeral F'O'l'GSf7'flj1 Bennett High School, Bufalo, New York. New York State Ranger School. JESSE KYSOR HOPKINS fGe'n,erccZ Fofrestryj East High School, Rochester, New York. CORLAND LEHMAN JAMES fG6'l'L9'l'CLZ Forestryj North Central High School, Spokane, Wash. Xi Sigma Pig See.-Fiscal Agent, 3. Associated Foresters, Publicity Agent, 4. PHILIP BURTT LORD fRcmge Mrmagementj Roosevelt High School, Los Angeles. Vice President, Associated Foresters, 3. HORACE RICHARDS, JR. fGe1'Le9'a.l Forestryj Bend High School, Oregon. CHARLES AUGUST WELLNER fGeneo'al Forestryj Twin Falls High School, Idaho. Sec.-Treas., Associated Foresters, 4. Xi Sigma Pig Associate Forester, 4. 25 Xi. - JAMES fi 'moan- A :.1CM,. 'Ei , ,,.r,.- uf, , Kea., . ,A RICHARDS K --K-zu man

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PAUL BUNYAN'S BIG TOP ERNEST E. HUBERT P'rofesso'r of Forestry The year that Paul Bunyan began logging in the wilds of Idaho remain-ed in his memory a long time-like skunk odor in a mackinaw. It was in July, during that famous period known as the Three Winters, that he bullied his snarling crews up the snow packed slopes of the Coeur d'Alenes. And it was the Fourth of July when his men, tired and cold, slashed the last tree on the slope and, topping the ridge, gazed at what is now known as Fourth- of-July Canyon. It was here that Paul ordered a huge white pine tree blazed and dated to mark the progress of this day's work and, as his voice roared through the bleak forest, it shook the snow in avalanches from the trees, almost burying the crew. The weather was steadily getting worse. It was what old timers called a hell-bender. It had hair on it. Snow soon buried the tallest white pines from sight and the loud booming of the frozen tree trunks as they split wide open sounded through those narrow draws like cannon shots. The next day Paul tried to mark a few choice trunks for cutting but found they were frozen so solid that his usual method of pinching sections out of the bark with his fingers failed Hatly. At last the camps had to be closed down. The logging operation had been hung up for two weeks and Paul's lumberjacks, soured with cards and yarn spinning, were roaring for action. Like caged cougars, they paced back and forth in the snow-muifled bunk houses until their boot calks wore deep tracks in the rough boards and their strong language and chewing snoos both gave out. Paul knew his men and he knew something had to be done. Yet it was getting colder and the mercury had crawled out of the bottom of every thermometer in camp and no one knew how cold it was. Joe Mufraw was brought in frozen as stiff' as a peavy and had to be thawed out in the cook's oven. And, only yesterday, the water in the sheet iron tank serving as teakettle on the stove, froze so rapidly when Sourdough carelessly opened the cook shack door that the ice was still hot and steaming when he removed the cover. Something had to be done! Paul, pacing the office shack, was tearing up a couple of old flywheel belts in despair when suddenly he shouted: By the old roary-eyed son-of-a-rig- slinger. I've got it! Bundling up so that only his bushy eyebrows showed, he rushed out and strapped snowshoes on Babe the Blue OX. Then roaring defiance to the storm he and Babe dis- appeared westward into the white fury of wind and snow. For three days the blizzard winds howled about the storm-sieged camp like a pack of timber wolves, tearing at the eaves and straining at the doors and windows, until the snow drifted higher than the roof ridge. The frost was six inches thick on the lightless glass and the smoke barely bulging out of the holes in the snow above the smoke pipes before freezing solid, plunged into the crusted drifts with a whish and a thud. Above the roar of the blizzard on the even- ing of the third day a strange rumbling and crunching was heard and Sourdough Sam pok- ing his nose out through a crack near the ridgepole of the cook shack, saw a strange sight. Paul, covered with icicles and snow, only his head and shoulders showing above the drifts, his arms revolving like a snow fan, was seen breaking the trail for Babe who was covered with huge poles, sections of piping, ropes and canvas until only her head and tail show-ed. That night the storm shivered to a stand- still and the next morning cracks began to ap- pear in the snow where you would guess the doorways were. The gypo boys were franti- cally tunneling out and it wasn't long before Paul had his men sinking their teeth into one of the biggest jobs of his career-rigging a huge tent over a quarter section of snow- buried timber. The job was a holy terror. But so was Paul. - The snow was so deep that the sheer can- yons between the high ridges were hard to lo- cate and twenty of the best snoos eaters tug- ging at a guy rope stepped off the high ridge into Deception Creek and plunged out of sight. They burrowed through the drifts all that winter and Paul did not find them until next spring as they emerged at the mouth of the Little North Fork. Their camp sites can still be found on the little flats staggering the main stream every half mile or so. It was not long before his men knew why Paul had brought so many sections of pipe for he strung a pipe line from his sawmill to the big tent and in no time he had steam filling the huge canvas and hissing out of every seam. He steamed the timber for six days and nights, figuring that the snow would be melted by that time and the trees would be thawed out enough to cut down, but surprises w-ere in store for both Paul and his men. Hell and high water, bellowed one bundle stiff, these match stems are tougher than dry hemlock knots. With slush up to their arm- pits and five gallon oil cans as Palouser lights to cut the gloom as they felled the trees under the big top, Paul's timber beasts kept Babe the Blue OX busy shoving the logs from the tent to the sawmill through a long tunnel shaped by the use of Paul's invention, the snow auger. fContinued on page 511

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1933 GRADUATE CLASS s JOHN J. MCNAIR Cloquct High School, Miifmesota. Carleton College, Minnesota, B.A. 1930. University of Minnesota, M.S. 1932. Xi Sigma Pi. ROYALE KING PIERSON Shariton High School, Iowa. University of Montana, B.A. 1930. Xi Sigma Pi, Sigma Xi. Thesis title for the degree, Master of Sci Thesis title for the degree, Master of Sci- ence in -Forestry! A - ence in Forestry: Studies of the Function of the Pycnio- Esterification of Wood and of Cellulose SpOr6 Of the White P1119 B11S'C6T Rust iii situ and the Production of Commercial Fungus. Products from both the Cellulose and Lignin Derivatives. VIRGIL DANIEL Moss Fairfield High School, Wash. PAUL H. TALICH Bristow High School, Nebraska. Hastings College, Nebraska, B.A. 1928. Utah State Agricultural College, Depart ment of Forestry, Logan. UHiVe1'Si'Cy Of Idahfl, B-S- fF01'-l 1932- Colorado Agricultural College, Fort Collins, Thesis title for the degwe, MaS'C91' Of Sfii- nine weeks' summer forestry camp 1931. ence in Forestry: Xi Sigma Pi, A Summary of Federal and State Quar- Thesis title for the degree, Master of Sci antines with Discussions on the Diseases ence in Forestry. and Insects Concerned. Western White Pine KPiniLs fnioiiticolaj. When you see me goin' Hshin' With my briar and my pole, Just know it ain't so much the fish That becks from hole to hole As 'tis the fishini Fishin' where the water's white- Juicy worm, they oughter biteg Fishin' from a tumbled tree- Big one snatched it, reel goes wheel Fishin' from a mossy bank, Waitin' for that thrillin' yank- 'Tain't so much the fish I want As 'tis fishin' and the jaunt. FISI-IIN' When you see me goin' fishin' With my fishin' pants and coat, Just know it ain't so much the fish Inspirin' such a tote As 'tis the wishin'. Wishin' that more folks would go Where the singing waters flow, Wishin' they'd just take a day Wanderin' round up yonder wayg Wishin' folks would take the time To go up there and think and climb, Fish and loaf-I know it would Do 'em just a world o' good. STANLEY Foss BARTLETT in Boston Herald 26 The Effect of Shading on Seedlings of