18 ***** "Oh, Ranger!" 



mers." Laundry girls are "Bubble Queens." Porters and bell boys are 

 "Pack Rats" or merely "Rats." When a young man and a young woman 

 step out in the evening for a stroll, they are "rotten-logging," in the 

 vernacular, whether or not they surrender to the temptation of sitting 

 out a few dances on a nice soft rotting log. Much of the help in the 

 hotels, lodges, and camps of the parks is recruited from colleges. 

 Youngsters are eager for this work during the summer vacations. One 

 of the great charms of life in the parks is the vivacity and enthusiasm 

 of these college youngsters, the Savages. Thousands of them find 

 healthful and enjoyable employment in this manner. Many of them 

 choose a different park each summer. In some parks they are selected 

 not only for their willingness to work but also for their ability to enter 

 tain camp visitors with songs, skits, and programs. 



Counting Dudes, Sagebrushers, and Savages alike, the total number 

 of visitors to the national parks each year is approximately three million. 

 That figure makes the parks the greatest tourist attraction of the United 

 States, and possibly in the world. Rocky Mountain National Park for 

 many years held the lead in number of visitors, the figure being about 

 two hundred thousand per year, but the phenomenal increase in travel 

 to Yosemite to half a million a year has given that park undisputed 

 leadership in popularity. Yellowstone Park is now visited by upward 

 of a quarter of a million people each year, Grand Canyon Park by one 

 hundred and fifty thousand, Mount Rainier by an even greater number, 

 and Hot Springs Park by a quarter of a million. Crater Lake, Se 

 quoia, Glacier, Zion, and other parks are sought yearly each by tens 

 of thousands. 



The Dudes are outnumbered by the Sagebrushers about four to one 

 in most of the parks. The majority of the Sagebrushers bring their own 

 camping equipment and stop over whenever a mountain, a forest, or a 

 fishing stream strikes their fancy. They move on only when the spirit 

 moves them, lingering as long as they can in the mountains they have 



learned to love, out where the air is clear 

 and the sky is blue, up where the morn 

 ings are crisp, near the clouds that drift 

 lazily by. They delight in roughing it de 

 luxe, in wearing khaki and knickers and 

 boots and sweaters, either about their 

 own campfires or at some rustic camp 

 where food and warmth and shelter are 

 provided. 



Traveling through the national parks 

 by stage is comfort itself nowadays, but 

 before the coming of the automobile, it 



