Born a bit too Late...

I often feel I'm about a hundred and fifty years too late. I have a fascination with the mid 1800's, the time of enlightenment, Thoreau, scientific awakening, natural discovery and John Muir. Like most people I have idols, but mine are a bit different. Hesse, Thoreau, Feynman, Whitman, Abbey and John Muir, that most enlightened Scottish individual and his deep rooted need to wander the landscape, sketching its patterns and observing its wonders. I can relate. One of my favorite stories he wrote is of a little hike he took up Tenya Canyon in Yosemite Valley. It's a notoriously dangerous hike; exposed granite slabs, slippery descents, multiple rappels, class 4 scrambles. It's on my list. Today one needs permits, maps, fancy rope, the proper timing, etc, but with Muir all that was needed was a loaf of half-eaten bread and a journal. After entering Yosemite Valley he headed straight on towards the East end and Tenya Canyon. Traversing the lower section of the hike, littered with huge boulders and fast water he started the upper sections and took a nasty fall that knocked him cold and nearly took his life, cursing his feet telling them "that is what you get by intercourse with stupid town stairs, and dead pavement". Rather than retreat, he pressed on promising to "..guide my humbled body over the highest precipices and the most intricate and nerve-trying places.." Feeling confident that the last of the town-fog and been shaken from both head and feet he slept on a smooth granite boulder, munching stale bread and writing in his journal by the bright moonlight. To wander freely throughout that untouched beauty of place, sketching, noting seems to me as close to perfection as I guess there can be.