It Is, By Common Consent, A Good

In Wildness Is The Salvation Of The World.

I Now Suspect That Just As A Deer Herd Lives In Mortal Fear Of Its Wolves, So Does A Mountain Live In Mortal Fear Of Its Deer. And Perhaps With Better Cause, For While A Buck Pulled Down By Wolves Can Be Replaced In Two Or Three Years, A Range Pulled Down By Too Many Deer May Fail Of Replacement In As Many Decades.

At First Blush I Am Tempted To Conclude That A Satisfactory Hobby Must Be In Large Degree Useless, Inefficient, Laborious, Or Irrelevant.

The Elemental Simplicities Of Wilderness Travel Were Thrills. They Represented Complete Freedom To Make Mistakes. The Wilderness Gave Those Rewards And Penalties, For Wise And Foolish Acts Against Which Civilization Has Built A Thousand Buffers.

Civilization Has So Cluttered This Elemental Man-earth Relationship With Gadgets And Middlemen That Awareness Of It Is Growing Dim. We Fancy That Industry Supports Us, Forgetting What Supports Industry.