"I guess you could say I was the bait," the 82-year-old Simmons says, chuckling about some of his more unusual duties as a volunteer ranger at Canyonlands National Park. "People are naturally afraid. But if they see an old codger like me doing it, they don't have much choice."

Now, that "old codger" is moving on to a new horizon after a spat with park authorities over his housing arrangements.

Right now, Simmons lives in a three-bedroom house in the park's Island in the Sky District. But a new ranger with a family is set to move into the home near Moab. That means Simmons has to relocate. The Park Service is willing to find him a new place in the area, but cannot guarantee he won't have to share space with another ranger.

For a man who values his privacy - he doesn't even discuss the origin of his curious nickname - that's not an option. So "Black" George is packing up.

"I'm not sure where I'll end up," he says. "I've got a lot of contacts, including one in Siberia. But I wouldn't want people to think I am retreating to Siberia, so I'm going to stay with friends in Dolores, Colo., until I decide."

As a volunteer, Simmons has spent his retirement years trading his time for an outdoor lifestyle few his age can imagine.

Simmons' first volunteer gig after retiring as a geologist with the U.S. Geological Survey, came at Big Ben National Park in Texas. He also labored in Wyoming's Grand Tetons and southwestern Utah's Bryce Canyon, where he carried the Olympic Torch in 2002.

But he keeps returning to Island in the Sky, where he worked as a geologist during the uranium boom of the 1950s and became one of the first experts to map Cataract Canyon.

His legend is such that visitors come to the park hoping just to strike up a conversation with the animated New Orleans native.

His trademark "Yehaw!" and "Where're you folks from?" are often the first greetings visitors hear as they enter Canyonlands. And he has been known to converse with visitors from around the world in their native tongue.

"He's an effervescent character," Park Superintendent Tony Schetzle says. "He's got a lot of passion for what he's doing, and it's served him well and us well, too."

Park employees have come to regard Simmons as an extra pair of eyes and ears, Schetzle says. He is a favorite traveling partner for rangers on patrol. Lately, his primary responsibility has been monitoring the air quality, a tedious task that requires filling out forms and keeping records.

On a recent rescue, Simmons climbed atop Upheaval Dome and acted as a radio relay between searchers and the command post.

Other rangers are glum about him leaving. His birthday party, earlier this week, became his farewell.

"I'm not physically able to go out and do all of the things the rangers do," he says. "But I'm an old topographer that can go out on a fire and describe temperature and the wind speed and the type of material that is burning and other stuff that they need to know to fight the fire, and it frees up another ranger to do the hard work."