The Wild Muir : Twenty-Two of John Muir's Greatest Adventures

210 Pages·2013·8.43 MB·English

by  Stetson

For the many thousands who have enjoyed
the reincarnated Muir
in Yosemite and elsewhere,
and most especially
for my loving and
much loved
Connie.
Contents

Introduction

The Adventures
Good Scootchers
Near Drowning
At the Bottom of the Well
NOTE
Blind!
Fever!
The Brink of the Yosemite Fall
An Interview with a Bear
In the Midst of the Yosemite Fall
Climbing the Ice Cone
The Snow Avalanche Ride
Rattlesnakes
The Earthquake
The Ascent of Mount Ritter
A Geologist’s Winter Walk
The Tree Ride
A Perilous Night on Mount Shasta
REPORT TO THE SUPERINTENDENT
Mono Lake Windstorm
Thirst
The Rescue on Glenora Peak
REVEREND YOUNG’S VERSION
Stickeen
NOTE
A Sled Trip on the Muir Glacier
Nearly Crushed by an Iceberg
Milestones in the Life of John Muir
Copyright Page
Introduction
For all his lofty thoughts, for all his contributions and
discoveries, I suspect that John Muir would long ago have
faded into relative obscurity, save for his amazing adventures.
Muir engaged wildness with perhaps more enthusiastic love
and passionate courage than any other American before or
after him. Usually alone, with little more than bread and tea for
sustenance, often without coat or blanket, Muir eagerly
explored the mountains of the American West. His written
accounts of the events that befell him during his travels are
astounding, amazing and almost unbelievable.
In fact, as an actor who regularly dramatizes many of these
adventures, I am most often asked, “Do you think Muir really
did that?” Well, I do. So did his contemporaries; no one who
knew him or traveled with him doubted his word. Questioning
Muir’s veracity is commonplace enough nowadays—the
strength and stamina required to undertake these adventures
suggest to many exaggeration, and to some, outright
fabrication. My years of research suggest, however, that Muir
was not only truthful in his writing, but in some instances quite
modest.
Given the sheer quantity of Muir’s work, remarkably little of
it involves personal narrative. Much is descriptive commentary
common to travelogues of the day (though generally of much
better quality), some is scientific study and opinion, and a good
deal is general sermonizing about the healthful effect of
engaging wildness. Muir was often hounded by editors and
friends to write more of his adventures and less of everything
else, but he was reluctant to do so, confiding in his journals
that he preferred to be a sort of prism, “a flake of glass through
which the light passes.”
Except for the “scootchers” of his childhood (the games of
daring that he and the other children enjoyed), Muir never
seemed to seek adventure for adventure’s sake. His rationale
was constant—curiosity and study were what motivated him,
and wonder, exhilaration and learning were the rewards.
Examples abound. He confronted and charged a large bear,
hoping to make it bolt so that he could “study his gait in
running;” “eager to see as many avalanches as possible,” he
was caught up in one; tossed violently about the Yosemite
Valley floor during California’s biggest earthquake, he was sure
he was “going to learn something;” and “anxious to learn more
of this curious hill,” he climbed a 500-foot wall of ice beneath
the great Yosemite Fall.
The risks were real, but measured with the eye of a true
mountaineer. “Accidents in the mountains,” he wrote, “are less
common than in the lowlands, and these mountain mansions
are decent, delightful, even divine, places to die in, compared
with the doleful chambers of civilization. Few places in this
world are more dangerous than home. Fear not, therefore, to
try the mountain-passes. They will kill care, save you from
deadly apathy, set you free, and call forth every faculty into
vigorous, enthusiastic action.”
The Wild Muir was conceived as a book offering only
wilderness adventures in which Muir’s life or limb was
threatened. When the final selections had been made, however,
not all of the stories satisfied the original criteria. A purist,
knowing of Muir’s rugged constitution and his skill and ease in
the out-of-doors, might consider it misleading to include the
famous tree ride. His feelings were certainly those of sheer
delight, not fear or threat. And three of these episodes—his
brush with death at the bottom of the well, the industrial
accident that nearly blinded him in Indianapolis, and the fever
encountered in Florida—would be more properly labelled mis-
adventures.
In all, twenty-two extraordinary, death-defying stories are
included here. Written in his own words, they begin in
childhood and continue chronologically through Muir’s fifty-
second year. The accounts all share Muir’s zest for living and
for everything that he encountered, and reflect some of his best
and most engaging writing. The Victorian flourish and sense of
leisure common to much of his prose are notably absent from
this collection.
Besides Muir’s writings, two other accounts supporting and
amplifying Muir’s versions of events are included in this
volume. The first, part of a government report describing
Muir’s return from the violent storm on Mount Shasta, has
never before been published (to the best of my knowledge). It
provides several details of his suffering that Muir either
neglected to mention or found unimportant. The other, S. Hall
Young’s wonderful account of the rescue on Glenora Peak,
gives us a sharply observed view of Muir as the vigorous
mountaineer. It comes from Young’s Alaska Days with John
Muir, and makes a fine counterpoint to Muir’s version of the
same episode.
The real purpose of The Wild Muir, however, is not to provide
biography, to answer or raise questions, to fill in historical
gaps, or to add to the endless conjecture about the true
character of John Muir (though it does all of these things to
some degree). It is simply to provide the reader a rousing good
time. Twenty-two rousing good times. May you enjoy the
adventure!