John Muir

Only by going alone in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. All other travel is mere dust and hotels and baggage and chatter.” – Letter to wife Louie, July 1888, Life and Letters of John Muir 1924

A signpost at Truman Trail (Image courtesy feathery.tumblr.com)

Truman Trail points to all the possible directions to take… (Image courtesy feathery.tumblr.com)

For seminal naturalist and author John Muir, “The more savage and chilly and storm-chafed the mountains, the finer the glow on their faces.” The words might describe the man himself who cared so little for creature comforts and found such joy in the wild world. Cold, avalanche and animals untamed were but opportunities to witness the power of nature. Instead of shrinking from its blast, Muir found in the wind a symphony and “an exhilaration of motion.” His idea of preparing for a trip was to “throw some tea and bread in an old sack and jump over the back fence.”

One of John Muir's many inspirations: The Grand Canyon. (Image by nps.gov)

One of Muir’s many accomplishments was being involved in the creation and preservation of the Grand Canyon, which he also wrote about in his book, Steep Trails. (Image by nps.gov)

Muir went out to meet nature with a boldness impressively unmatched by the modern outdoorsman, he who relied on hydration packs, GPSs, and battery-warmed overcoats. Compelled to scrabble his way up the sheer face of an ice cliff or position himself behind a waterfall on a ledge that would scarcely hold a teacup, Muir put himself in places that no other person had been. The explorer didn’t photograph canyon walls – he felt them.

John Muir sketched this picture in his journal on the morning of November 21, 1911.

A sketch from Muir’s journal, which he made on the morning of November 21, 1911, near his campsite.

It was by untold hours of observation, and making use of every sense that Muir developed his belief that glaciers formed Yosemite. If the man didn’t fear nature at its most violent, neither did he cower before academic strongholds. While credentialed scientists poked fun at his amateur findings, Muir held fast to his convictions and was ultimately proved right.

Walking the John Muir Trail in the Sierra Nevada mountains. (Image courtesy of the Bonvoy Adventure Travel Blog)

On the John Muir Trail in the Sierra Nevada mountains… The route passes through Yosemite, Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. (Image courtesy of the Bonvoy Adventure Travel Blog)

We don’t really know what called Muir to the wild places. His travels didn’t get him a stamp on his National Park Service passport folder, but we do know there was scarcely anything that could keep him from mystery and the journey.

 Less recognized for his gadgetry, John Muir invented a desk that put the books he was studying in order. He also invented a bed that set him on his feet each morning at a pre-set time. How's that for thinking on your feet? (Image courtesy of The Atlantic)

John Muir was less known for his gadgetry, but in the early 1900s, he invented a desk in which the books he was studying were arranged in order at the beginning of each term. He also invented a bed which set him on his feet every morning at the hour determined – and on dark winter mornings, just as the bed set him on the floor, it lighted a lamp. How’s that for thinking on your feet? (Image courtesy of The Atlantic)

Ingenious inventor and self-taught engineer, he had no trouble making money managing his family ranch. But he did struggle to stay put. Not even the love of a wife and two daughters could keep him home. His own wife Louie insisted “A ranch that needs…the sacrifice of a noble life or work, ought to be flung away.” And off her husband went to climb Mt. Shasta when climbing season was past. Time and again he was drawn to Alaska and the wonders of Glacier Bay, risking freezing or falling to get close. Once, paddling between two masses of ice, he noticed the passage narrowing and barely slipped the canoe out of the channel before the two icebergs came together with crushing force.

John Muir's cottage. Image courtesy of Christine Sculati.

The view from John Muir’s cottage. (Image courtesy Christine Sculati)

Although he achieved it, it wasn’t literary fame that drove John Muir’s exploration. While he couldn’t help but record the color and music of the “ice-land prairie” or “darkling woods“ in journals or letters to family and friends, writing for publication was a chore. Able to tell stories worthy of the name and with descriptive powers a travel writer would walk on coals for, Muir had to be prodded to write for the Overland or Atlantic Monthly. As he realized the power to persuade, he was more willing to do the work.

Muir wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with the mayor of San Francisco, or Gifford Pinchot, head of the US Forest Service. Other important men were more supportive. He camped for several days with a kindred adventurer – President Theodore Roosevelt. Another luminary, Ralph Waldo Emerson, was a less hardy soul, but one who ranked high on Muir’s list of friends. It was on railroad tycoon E.H. Harriman’s dime that Muir travelled to Europe and Australia.

John Muir's 1872 journal from Yosemite. (Image courtesy John Muir Papers, Holt- Anderson Special Collections, University of the Pacific Library. ©1984, Muir-Hanna Trust. Courtesy of the Oakland Museum of California)

Muir’s Yosemite journal, dated 1872. (Image courtesy John Muir Papers, Holt- Anderson Special Collections, University of the Pacific Library. ©1984, Muir-Hanna Trust. Courtesy of the Oakland Museum of California)

The image of the mountain man with wild beard isn’t wrong. Muir would be in his seventh decade before he ever dressed in a tuxedo and for the first meeting with his wife-to-be’s family, he showed up looking exactly like he’d come 250 miles along the coast of California in a leaky boat. He shrugged it off when told that gathering plants and flowers wasn’t a man’s work.

What was no doubt harder to ignore was the influence of his father. Daniel Muir told his son the best thing he could do with the book he was writing was to burn it. John’s father, a severely religious man, administered thrashings for offenses real or imagined. Hard work and heavy responsibility had its payoff, though. Physical toughness, resourcefulness, the perseverance to coax crops out of worn-out soil equipped John for his calling. Looking back, Muir marveled that he hadn’t suffered injury or death while climbing amid the ruins of Dunbar Castle or sneaking out at night to scamper about on the steep slate roof of the house.

In 1906, John Muir and his Sierra Club entered a seven year battle with San Francisco over the city wanting to gain water rights to the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir in Yosemite National Park.

After a major earthquake in 1906, San Francisco applied to gain water rights to the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir in Yosemite National Park. This provoked a seven year environmental rights battle with John Muir and his Sierra Club.

A familiar story is told of John Muir’s climbing a fir tree and riding it mechanical bull style while it whipped and swayed in a windstorm. What pity he would have for us who grumble and run for cover instead of lifting our faces to the rain.

John Muir taking a rest at his desk. (Image courtesy the Sierra Club)

John Muir at his desk. (Image courtesy the Sierra Club)

 

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