I had intended getting a cup of coffee, but a wild storm was blowing and calling, and I could not wait. I set off early the morning of August 30 before any one else in camp had stirred, not waiting for breakfast, but only eating a piece of bread. I tied my mountain shoes, tightened my belt, shouldered my ice-axe, and, thus free and ready for rough work, pushed on, regardless as possible of mere rain.Īfter my twelve-mile walk, I ate a cracker and planned the camp. It was raining hard when I awoke, but I made up my mind to disregard the weather, put on my dripping clothing, glad to know it was fresh and clean. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Intrepid John Muir:īut out of all the cold darkness and glacial crushing and grinding comes this warm, abounding beauty and life to teach us that what we in our faithless ignorance and fear call destruction is creation finer and finer. I could write all day about Muir’s ethos and exploits, but I’d rather let him tell it in his own words. As notable as these aforementioned gentlemen in their strength, courage and spirit, I’ve found my new model for fully living every single moment spent outside in the words of John Muir in his autobiographical piece, Travels in Alaska. The unifying theme is an enduring love for the natural world and a passion for exploring even the most difficult to reach parts of it.

I’ve been digging into the journals and biographies of such pioneering badasses as Edmund Hillary, Bradford Washburn and Fred Beckey. I’m currently in the throes of a historical inspiration kick.

Travels in alaska by john muir