The Last Season

In any case, perhaps the quest for data to support our actions gets overemphasized. After all, our emotions distinguish us. Art and poetry and music are from and to the human heart, as is, for many, our relationship with the land.' ~ Randy Morgenson

The least I owe these mountains is a body. - Randy Morgenson

His supervisor, a well-liked ranger by the name of Dick McLaren, gave Randy a line of advice to which he would adhere for the rest of his career: 'The best way to teach the public isn't with a citation, it's with communication.

Randy had even told the younger ranger, 'There's nothing s season in the backcountry can't cure.

And so the moral of his fabled travels read like Santiago’s, the boy in Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist: Randy had traveled around the world in search of treasure and came home to find it in his own backyard. He

Wilderness An area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. —Howard Zahniser Perhaps

Limbaji grinned widely and reached for a stone. "But this is what different religions mean," he said, placing the stone on the ground. "God is for all men, he is always the same. There is only one. And all men finally go to the same God." He drew lines toward the stone in the dust. "But there are different roads.

If you worked hard, believed in what you did, and stayed the course, then success and recognition would follow.

Back in civilization I begin the questioning,” wrote Randy. “What to do with life? What kind of life? In wilderness this ceases; the questions aren’t answered, they dissolve.” BEFORE

Things never stay just the same, any time. Change seems to be one of the few certainties in life. Just as well. But while we look forward eagerly to what is to come, we can thoughtfully appreciate the good that has been and what we have at the moment.” With

Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it.

May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view… 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 the next turning of the canyon walls. —Edward Abbey, “Benediction

But ever since I was old enough to be cynical I have been visiting national parks, and they are a cure for cynicism, an exhilarating rest from the competitive avarice we call the American Way…. Absolutely American, absolutely democratic, they reflect us at our best rather than our worst. —Wallace Stegner, 1983

Back in civilization I begin the questioning,” wrote Randy. “What to do with life? What kind of life? In wilderness this ceases; the questions aren’t answered, they dissolve.

Limbaji grinned widely and reached for a stone. “But this is what different religions mean,” he said, placing the stone on the ground. “God is for all men, he is always the same. There is only one. And all men finally go to the same God.” He drew lines toward the stone in the dust. “But there are different roads.” From