You want to be a Ranger?

You want to be a Ranger?. . , Do you have the right stuff to be a FOREST RANGER?!, Forest Service District Rangers today are resource professionals. She/he could be a forester, fish or wildlife biologist, hydrologist, botanist, landscape architect or other professional., Teams of specialists with expertise in public participation, forestry, recreation, scenic quality, engineering, fire, hydrology, wildlife and botany participate in land management planning for large areas on the National Forest., The 74,800 acre valley you are standing in (North Fork of the St. Joe River) is an example of the size of area that is often studied., (sidebar) , The first ranger applicants had to pass a written test on their knowledge of ranching, forestry, surveying, mapping, construction, etc. The field examination, held outdoors, had the applicant demonstrate how to use an ax; saddle a horse, ride at a trot, and gallop; pack a horse or mule; “throw” a diamond hitch; pace and compute a measured area in acres; take bearings with a compass and follow a straight line. They had to bring a rifle and pistol and shoot them accurately at a target and, also cook a meal and then eat it. They were paid $60 a month., (sidebar) , The St. Joe Ranger Station, 1910, Built in 1905 before the railroad came, the St. Joe Ranger Station burned during the 1910 fire, but was rebuilt and finally abandoned in 1918. In the above photo the station’s picket fence still stands after the big fire, but a tent station is up and running just days later., “After the fire season of 1909, I was sent to the St. Joe Ranger Station near Grand Forks, where we cleared ground and built a large house for drying and extracting white pine seed. The lumber for the cone house was salvaged from abandoned camp buildings along the nearly constructed C.M.&P.S. Railway., The 110-year old clear stand of white pine yielded a splendid crop. We robbed the squirrel caches and got as high as fifty bushels of cones from a single cache. I can, to this day, see those disgusted squirrels with their pitch smeared whiskered faces scolding at as we plundered their caches.” Ranger Joe Halm, Memoirs, 1944