The inspiration of Bob Marshall lives on today
Brian Baxter | Hagadone News Network | UPDATED 10 years, 10 months AGO
Guest Commentary:
Two of the most valuable lessons in life, in my humble opinion, are that good people come from all geographic areas of the planet, and that ordinary folks can be responsible for extra-ordinary acts that make a lasting mark on this earth and its people.
Robert “Bob” Marshall was born in New York City in 1901, his grandfather was a Jewish immigrant from Bavaria, and his father was a constitutional lawyer. According to numerous researchers, Bob developed an interest and love for the outdoor life at an early age.
Many individuals I know seem to have felt that call of the wild as a kid. It is a common bond many of us share. Also, like a lot of us, two of his heroes were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark.
As a child and a young man, Bob spent frequent time in the Adirondack Mountains. His younger brother George later described their times as kids in that area in this way: “we entered a world of freedom and informality, of living plants and spaces, of fresh greens and exhilarating blues, of giant, slender pines and delicate pink twinflowers, of deer and mosquitoes, of fishing and guide boats and tramps through the woods.”
By 1924, George, Bob, and a family friend Herb Clark, who was a Saranac Lake guide had climbed all 46 high peaks of the Adirondack Mountains. This is no small feat, and they were recognized for this accomplishment.
I worked cruising timber in the Adirondacks and can tell you that the granite rock of these formations can wear down your boots and your feet quickly, the brush on the way is real thick, and the white pines of the area are immense, used for the masts of ships in early colonial times.
Bob went on to graduate Syracuse College of Forestry, and in 1925 went to work for the Forest Service out of the Northern Rocky Mountain Experimental Station in Missoula. Interestingly, he worked fires in the Kaniksu Forest of Northern Idaho with loggers and firefighters whom he felt a special kinship.
The tales of his physical and mental prowess are too numerous to share in this venue, but are phenomenal to read about. This guy was hard core to the max!
Marshall explored the Brooks Range of Alaska, and a resulting book, Arctic Village, brought royalties which he shared with the residents of the village of Wiseman, Alaska. How about that folks? Big heart, too! An amazing man.
In 1934, Marshall visited the Smoky Mountain areas of Tennessee and western North Carolina with Bernard Frank, Harvey Broome, and Benton MacKaye, the latter of whom was the originator of the Appalachian Trail. Together, these men chose to give birth to an enlightened idea.
In the depths of the Smokies, as it was called when I was fortunate to attend wildlife management school there, they created The Wilderness Society.
Recently, after twenty plus years of hard work and compromise, the Heritage Act was signed into law and added new wilderness in Montana for the first time in thirty-one years.
This act was crafted by local folks, businesses and organizations in order to protect lands for hunters, anglers, and outdoor enthusiasts, while allowing grazing access for ranchers. This, along with other compromises such as the Whitefish Partnership Agreement, instill hope that well balanced, ethical stewardship of our lands and resource management, hunting, fishing and recreation can coexist in our area for the benefit of all.
Bob Marshall left us in 1939, passing from this life due to heart failure at age 39. Perhaps he left with us an inspiration and realization that good folks can come from every state, nation, and background to achieve great things for the good of all. He certainly left an impression on me.
— Brian Baxter is an outdoors educational programs instructor and coordinator.
ARTICLES BY BRIAN BAXTER
Voices in the Wilderness: Forest Choir
After the snowfall, Old Man Winter rests. He is warm now, with his long white hair flowing down his shoulders. After conjuring up infinite patterns of snow flakes, each one unique, and gently laying down the soft blanket of albescence, he tucks his chin into his full beard and begins to dream. In the mountains, the creatures of the earth begin to stir after the quietness of the last flake falling has been fully appreciated.
The Camaraderie of Hunters
Although the rather unexpected warmer temperatures and lack of snow at low- to mid-elevations during most of our recent hunting season did not help much, many hunters had a great season. And seasons are measured in a variety of ways, depending on each individual hunter.
Please thank our tireless firefighters
In the pitch dark, with layers of smoke blocking out the moon and stars, a lone driver takes off on a mission. He meanders his pickup through a maze of old logging roads that would trap a man easily. He feels a slight adrenaline rush of the fight or flight syndrome as he encounters ridiculously steep drop offs at every switchback. It’s a long, treacherous drive, and as he approaches an alder tunnel he fears he has missed his drop point. There are no turnouts on the hill where the Bay Horse fire is active. The old road warrior continues through the brushed in access road in hopes of finding the initial attack team that is spike camped out for the night. Busting through the one last bottleneck of vegetation, the wheel man arrives at the bivouacked squad’s location. Justin Figgins’s exhausted, black-faced crew are glad to see the driver, who has hot meals, Gatorade and other goodies, as well as humorous comments for the men and women of this squad.