“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…” ― John Muir
In 1939, two young men walked away from freshly plowed farm fields to enjoy a weekend on the Abajo Mountains in South East Utah. Hearts pounded forcing the blood to surge in their veins, quickening their steps. Sweat lines, carved through the dirt on faces and forearms, ran anew and would only stop several hundred miles and four weeks later. By foot and boat these young men traversed; the land of the ancients, a land carved and formed by the sweat of earth itself, a land previously known only to a vanished and at times banished people.
This very day remnants of past civilizations remain. Hand stacked rock walls lay within the bosoms of nature’s high rock walls. Deep canyons, streams and rivers; are once again sought out by a banished people, a people who banish themselves, if only for a short time. To step out of the man made clock, to step into something man can’t control or create. Places where exhaustion, sweat, hunger, and pains are sought out, a place of natural highs and hard fought rewards, where relationships are forged with others seen and unseen; a place of peace and beauty during a storm, a place for the soul and body to roam.