sardog1
New member
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2003
- Messages
- 2,579
- Reaction score
- 231
Comes now Boreas, making the mountaintops white once again and undoubtedly also prompting the usual seasonal admonition to the would-be soloist: "Nevermore. Well, at least not until spring."
As counterpoint I offer the following from Horace Kephart (1862-1931). Kephart deserves more recognition from us outdoor enthusiasts than he usually gets, IMO. Here's an excerpt from his argument for going solo, published in his Camping and Woodcraft, Vol. II, "How to Walk" (The Macmillan Company, 1972). (From reading his works, I like to think that in the intervening years he would have learned not to exclude half the population by his choice of gender nouns and pronouns. I have left them intact here only to avoid trampling on the rhythm of his words.)
“To the multitude, whether city or country bred, the bare idea of faring alone in the woods for days or weeks a a time is eerie and fantastic; it makes their flesh creep. He who does so is certainly an eccentric, probably a misanthrope, possibly a fugitive from justice, or, likely enough, some moonstruck fellow whom the authorities would do well to follow up and watch.
“But many a seasoned woodsman can avow that some of the most satisfying, if not the happiest, periods of his life have been spent far out of sight and suggestion of his fellow men.
. . .
“From a selfish standpoint, the solitary camper revels in absolute freedom. Any time, anywhere, he can do as he pleases. There is no anxiety as to whether his mates are having a good time, no obligation of deference to their wishes. Selfish? Yes; but, per contra, when one is alone he is boring nobody, elbowing nobody, treading on nobody’s toes. He is neither chiding nor giving unasked advice. Undeniably he is minding his own business -- a virtue to cover multitudes of sin.
“A companion, however light-footed he may be, adds fourfold to the risk of disturbing the shy natives of the wild. By your self you can sit motionless and mutely watchful, but where two are side by side it is neither polite nor endurable to pass an hour without saying a word. Lonesome? Nay indeed. Whoever has an eye for Nature is never less alone than when he is by himself. Should a strain of poetic temperament be wedded to one’s habit of observing, then it is more than ever urgent that he should be undisturbed; for in another’s presence:
‘Imagination flutters feeble wings.’
“Solitude has its finer side. The saints of old, when seeking to cleanse themselves from taint of worldliness and get closer to the source of prophecy, went singly into the desert and bided there alone. So now our lone adventurer, unsaintly as he may have been among men, experiences an exaltation, finds healing and encouragement in wilderness life.”
As counterpoint I offer the following from Horace Kephart (1862-1931). Kephart deserves more recognition from us outdoor enthusiasts than he usually gets, IMO. Here's an excerpt from his argument for going solo, published in his Camping and Woodcraft, Vol. II, "How to Walk" (The Macmillan Company, 1972). (From reading his works, I like to think that in the intervening years he would have learned not to exclude half the population by his choice of gender nouns and pronouns. I have left them intact here only to avoid trampling on the rhythm of his words.)
“To the multitude, whether city or country bred, the bare idea of faring alone in the woods for days or weeks a a time is eerie and fantastic; it makes their flesh creep. He who does so is certainly an eccentric, probably a misanthrope, possibly a fugitive from justice, or, likely enough, some moonstruck fellow whom the authorities would do well to follow up and watch.
“But many a seasoned woodsman can avow that some of the most satisfying, if not the happiest, periods of his life have been spent far out of sight and suggestion of his fellow men.
. . .
“From a selfish standpoint, the solitary camper revels in absolute freedom. Any time, anywhere, he can do as he pleases. There is no anxiety as to whether his mates are having a good time, no obligation of deference to their wishes. Selfish? Yes; but, per contra, when one is alone he is boring nobody, elbowing nobody, treading on nobody’s toes. He is neither chiding nor giving unasked advice. Undeniably he is minding his own business -- a virtue to cover multitudes of sin.
“A companion, however light-footed he may be, adds fourfold to the risk of disturbing the shy natives of the wild. By your self you can sit motionless and mutely watchful, but where two are side by side it is neither polite nor endurable to pass an hour without saying a word. Lonesome? Nay indeed. Whoever has an eye for Nature is never less alone than when he is by himself. Should a strain of poetic temperament be wedded to one’s habit of observing, then it is more than ever urgent that he should be undisturbed; for in another’s presence:
‘Imagination flutters feeble wings.’
“Solitude has its finer side. The saints of old, when seeking to cleanse themselves from taint of worldliness and get closer to the source of prophecy, went singly into the desert and bided there alone. So now our lone adventurer, unsaintly as he may have been among men, experiences an exaltation, finds healing and encouragement in wilderness life.”
Last edited:
