[pct-l] PCT - A Place to Escape

[Christine Kudija" <cmkudija@xxxxxxxxxxxxx (Christine Kudija)]

Nicely said, Greg.

Christine "Ceanothus" Kudija

"Never measure the height of a mountain, until you have reached the top.
Then you will see how low it was."  Dag Hammarskjold

----- Original Message -----
From: <Bighummel@aol.com>
To: <pct-l@backcountry.net>
Sent: Thursday, March 20, 2003 9:56 AM
Subject: [pct-l] PCT - A Place to Escape


--
[ Picked text/plain from multipart/alternative ]
You may find that the trail, really any trail, but perhaps the ultimate
being
the PCT, is a place to seek out our deepest inner thoughts and reflections.
When all hell is going on in my life; work, commuting, kids, phones ringing,
the news relating the latest developments of the worst of our society . . .
I
seek out the quiet, the beautiful, the inspiring, the innocent, the
humbling,
the majesty that the PCT encompasses.

Escape?  No, just a reminder of what this life is really about, what is
really important, how little time there actually is.

It's ironic to me that we humble, nature seekers, may have actually found
the
key to wisdom.  I find it in everyone of your eyes; on the trail, at the
border, around the fire at the ADZ.

A few quotes come to mind;

"Benedicto: May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous,
leading
to the most amazing view.
May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys
tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets' towers into a dark
primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and
mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and
pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast
ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where
deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as
lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more
beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you --
beyond that next turning of the canyon walls."
                        "Earth Prayer" Edward Abbey

"Give me my Scallop shell of quiet,
My staffe of Faith to walke upon,
My Scrip of Joy, Immortall diet,
My bottle of salvation:
My Gowne of Glory, hopes true gage,
And thus Ile take my pilgrimage."
                  Sir Walter Raliegh, The Pilgrimage (1604)

Best regards,

Greg
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