Whenever the light of civilization falls upon me with a blinding power, then I go into the wilderness. I go to the mountains. I go to the prairies. The wilderness and seas are places to hold me. I let the cities become a memory. I let the wilderness and seas take hold of me. The wilderness gives me good red blood. I become full of spirit. I soon behold all with a peaceful soul. There is something in the very name of the wilderness that charms. It soothes the spirit and guides me from darkness.
If adventure has a final and all embracing motive it is surely this: go out. Because it is our nature to go out, to climb the mountains and sail the seas, to fly to the planets and plunge into the depths of the oceans. By doing these things we touch something outside or beyond, which strangely seems to approve doing them. Going out extends our horizon and expands our being. I revel in a mastery of myself which gives an impression, mainly illusion, that I am the master of my world.
