[pct-l] Colin Fletcher vs Charlie Brown
JoAnn M. Michael
jomike at cot.net
Sat Jun 16 12:20:16 CDT 2007
I feel like Charlie Brown.
One of my favorite strips by the gifted cartoonist shows Lucy, Linus and Charlie Brown lying on their backs in this lovely meadow looking up at the cumulus clouds. Lucy refelcts that the clouds remind her of featherly, heavenly type bodies floating gently by on a wonderful white stallion. Linus sees the clouds as groups of angels, swaying effortlessly through their pillows of pure soft cotton gently blowing their trumpets of peace and harmony.
Charlie Brown looking upwards says, "I see a fire truck."
are we there yet.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few great, quickly corralled quotes from my favorite author and greatest
backpacking, outdoor philosopher of all time, Colin Fletcher.
>From "The Thousand Mile Summer" 1964;
"During my thousand-mile summer I sometimes became aware that I was watching
a passing show. But as I walked through those free and sumptuous days, rich
with the rewards of inexperience, I did not know that man would soon lay a
heavy, engineering hand on much of the land I was seeing. It has happened,
though. And now, almost a quarter of a century later, those who know today's
California - today's America, today's world - may perhaps find in the book a
quiet testimony not only to the past but also, I hope, to the road we must walk
in the future."
and
"But all day the wind remained in my command. It struck discords from the
forest of Joshua trees that stretched back, mile after mile, like a huge
decaying orchard. It scythed across the carpet of flowers and set them all
shivering. It faced a group of cattle downwind and set their coats on edge. It
moaned through the eye sockets of a whitened steer's skull. It whistled
through the walls of a stone shack that stood roofless and rejected, miles from
nowhere. And when stray clouds hid the sun it probed my marrow."
>From "The Man Who Walked Through Time", 1968;
"I woke in half-light and lay looking up and off to my left at a vertical
bank, eight or ten feet high, that a flash flood had scoured out of the canyon
floor. And as I lay watching daylight fill in the details of the boulders
and stones and sand that made up this bank, the flood that had created the bank
was suddenly so real that I could almost see the last few grains of sand
dribbling down into its receding waters. And for a few minutes then, as I lay
half awake, more than the creation of the bank was real. I could feel and
understand and accept and believe in, utterly, the whole long and continuous
process that had stripped rock fragments from the cliffs above and then had
dropped them, bolder by stone by grain of sand, until at last they accumulated
into the gravelly soil that now covered the floor of the sidecanyon."
and
"Yes, get out is the thing - It has been a wonderful life - effort, then
perception - peace and insight - deer mice and beavers; sunshine and river. But
now, washing my head in Nankoweap Creek, I know it is over. I have
overstayed my welcome in the museum. The things I wanted to do are done. The time
has passed for contemplation, I must get out and do. For doing is what
counts. The contemplation is only for that."
>From "The River", 1997;
"Through my late forties and early fifties, the pattern continued, in
miniature. I made countless shorter backpack trips, and several took me along
further stretches of the lower Colorado. As I approached my sixties, the germ of
the idea for this journey had come close to surfacing: I wrote that
'sometime in the next hundred and fifty years I plan to complete a piecemeal walk
along the entire Colorado River'. Then, one spring morning in my mid-sixties, I
was taking a shower when it came to me that what I most wanted to do with my
life just the was to follow a major river, under my own power, from its
source to its mouth."
and
"What is needed is a myth that can fit our growing body of knowledge of
geophysics, biology and the cosmos. In this vein, I do not think it too remote
that we may come to regard the Earth, as some have suggested, as one organism,
of which Mankind is a functional part - the mind perhaps; different for the
rest of nature, but different as a man's brain is different from his lungs."
Colin, we will all miss you. May your new adventure with GBITS (great
backpacker in the sky) be a great one and carry you to challenges, dirt, flies,
blue skies, lightning, thunder, rock, water falls, deep cuts, blisters and
grand vistas for eternity. You did not overstay your welcome in this museum.
Greg "Strider" HummelA few great, quickly corralled quotes from my favorite author and greatest
backpacking, outdoor philosopher of all time, Colin Fletcher.
>From "The Thousand Mile Summer" 1964;
"During my thousand-mile summer I sometimes became aware that I was watching
a passing show. But as I walked through those free and sumptuous days, rich
with the rewards of inexperience, I did not know that man would soon lay a
heavy, engineering hand on much of the land I was seeing. It has happened,
though. And now, almost a quarter of a century later, those who know today's
California - today's America, today's world - may perhaps find in the book a
quiet testimony not only to the past but also, I hope, to the road we must walk
in the future."
and
"But all day the wind remained in my command. It struck discords from the
forest of Joshua trees that stretched back, mile after mile, like a huge
decaying orchard. It scythed across the carpet of flowers and set them all
shivering. It faced a group of cattle downwind and set their coats on edge. It
moaned through the eye sockets of a whitened steer's skull. It whistled
through the walls of a stone shack that stood roofless and rejected, miles from
nowhere. And when stray clouds hid the sun it probed my marrow."
>From "The Man Who Walked Through Time", 1968;
"I woke in half-light and lay looking up and off to my left at a vertical
bank, eight or ten feet high, that a flash flood had scoured out of the canyon
floor. And as I lay watching daylight fill in the details of the boulders
and stones and sand that made up this bank, the flood that had created the bank
was suddenly so real that I could almost see the last few grains of sand
dribbling down into its receding waters. And for a few minutes then, as I lay
half awake, more than the creation of the bank was real. I could feel and
understand and accept and believe in, utterly, the whole long and continuous
process that had stripped rock fragments from the cliffs above and then had
dropped them, bolder by stone by grain of sand, until at last they accumulated
into the gravelly soil that now covered the floor of the sidecanyon."
and
"Yes, get out is the thing - It has been a wonderful life - effort, then
perception - peace and insight - deer mice and beavers; sunshine and river. But
now, washing my head in Nankoweap Creek, I know it is over. I have
overstayed my welcome in the museum. The things I wanted to do are done. The time
has passed for contemplation, I must get out and do. For doing is what
counts. The contemplation is only for that."
>From "The River", 1997;
"Through my late forties and early fifties, the pattern continued, in
miniature. I made countless shorter backpack trips, and several took me along
further stretches of the lower Colorado. As I approached my sixties, the germ of
the idea for this journey had come close to surfacing: I wrote that
'sometime in the next hundred and fifty years I plan to complete a piecemeal walk
along the entire Colorado River'. Then, one spring morning in my mid-sixties, I
was taking a shower when it came to me that what I most wanted to do with my
life just the was to follow a major river, under my own power, from its
source to its mouth."
and
"What is needed is a myth that can fit our growing body of knowledge of
geophysics, biology and the cosmos. In this vein, I do not think it too remote
that we may come to regard the Earth, as some have suggested, as one organism,
of which Mankind is a functional part - the mind perhaps; different for the
rest of nature, but different as a man's brain is different from his lungs."
Colin, we will all miss you. May your new adventure with GBITS (great
backpacker in the sky) be a great one and carry you to challenges, dirt, flies,
blue skies, lightning, thunder, rock, water falls, deep cuts, blisters and
grand vistas for eternity. You did not overstay your welcome in this museum.
Greg "Strider" Hummel
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