It is intriguing to note that, even though Teddy Roosevelt traveled the world seeking adventure, one of his greatest experiences occurred in 1903 when he camped with John Muir near Yosemite’s Glacier Point. He was inspired and encouraged by Muir to initiate the American Antiquities Act which led to creating 18 National Monuments preserving over 230,000,000 acres. Together, they formed the foundation of what became the US National Park Service. It is also interesting to note that, regardless of visiting Grand Canyon several times, he overlooked what could have been a life-changing experience of hiking to the bottom of Grand Canyon.
On several occasions, Biodesign students suggested that if conflicting world leaders would only spend one night on top of Yosemite’s Half Dome, world peace would be achievable. Perhaps the same can be said about the same leaders peacefully walking to the bottom of Grand Canyon. About half way down the South Kaibab Trail there is a band of gray sandstone, which is less than ½ an inch thick. The geological guidebook suggests that the band took 10,000 years to form. Walking along the Colorado River, amidst Vishnu Schist (1.8 billion years old), makes the entire human history seem like a fleeting and not too important page of the history of our planet. Somehow, it is comforting to know, that after humans have ceased to live on this precious planet, the Grand Canyon will continue to keep time in million-year seconds. Who knows, maybe in another billion years other visitors will take the same trail down to the Colorado. Meanwhile, I had the awesome privilege of making that trek with 15 high school biology classes. It was a sacred trust to see Grand Canyon through their eyes.
Warning: Henry Van Dyke’s epic poem, “THE GRAND CANYON,” is “soul food” and beyond the “fast-food” attention span. However, it just might be the most important poem you will ever read.Van Dyke plumbs the depth of Grand Canyon and the depth of the human soul. He challenges believers and non-believers to set aside their baggage of religious and scientific bias, pettiness, myths and shallow thinking and become one with Grand Canyon. Van Dyke concedes that, like the words infinity and eternity, Grand Canyon cannot be defined yet, as a poet, he cannot contain himself. There are one-liners galore that will convict, cajole, console, compel, comfort and inspire. Nothing will compare with hiking Grand Canyon, however, Van Dyke’s poem offers a hint of the mystery of transcending the human body and briefly becoming “at one” with the universe.
DAYBREAK
What makes the lingering Night so cling to thee?
Thou vast, profound, primeval hiding-place
Of ancient secrets,–gray and ghostly gulf
Cleft in the green of this high forest land,
And crowded in the dark with giant forms!
Art thou a grave, a prison, or a shrine?
A stillness deeper than the dearth of sound
Broods over thee: a living silence breathes
Perpetual incense from thy dim abyss.
The morning-stars that sang above the bower
Of Eden, passing over thee, are dumb
With trembling bright amazement; and the Dawn
Steals through the glimmering pines with naked feet,
Her hand upon her lips, to look on thee!
She peers into thy depths with silent prayer
For light, more light, to part thy purple veil.
O Earth, swift-rolling Earth, reveal, reveal,–
Turn to the East, and show upon thy breast
The mightiest marvel in the realm of Time!
‘Tis done,–the morning miracle of light,–
The resurrection of the world of hues
That die with dark, and daily rise again
With every rising of the splendid Sun!
Be still, my heart! Now Nature holds her breath
To see the solar flood of radiance leap
Across the chasm, and crown the western rim
Of alabaster with a far-away
Rampart of pearl, and flowing down by walls
Of changeful opal, deepen into gold
Of topaz, rosy gold of tourmaline,
Crimson of garnet, green and gray of jade,
Purple of amethyst, and ruby red,
Beryl, and sard, and royal porphyry;
Until the cataract of colour breaks
Upon the blackness of the granite floor.
How far below! And all between is cleft
And carved into a hundred curving miles
Of unimagined architecture! Tombs,
Temples, and colonnades are neighboured there
By fortresses that Titans might defend,
And amphitheatres where Gods might strive.
Cathedrals, buttressed with unnumbered tiers
Of ruddy rock, lift to the sapphire sky
A single spire of marble pure as snow;
And huge aerial palaces arise
Like mountains built of unconsuming flame.
Along the weathered walls, or standing deep
In riven valleys where no foot may tread,
Are lonely pillars, and tall monuments
Of perished aeons and forgotten things.
My sight is baffled by the wide array
Of countless forms: my vision reels and swims
Above them, like a bird in whirling winds.
Yet no confusion fills the awful chasm;
But spacious order and a sense of peace
Brood over all. For every shape that looms
Majestic in the throng, is set apart
From all the others by its far-flung shade,
Blue, blue, as if a mountain-lake were there.
How still it is! Dear God, I hardly dare
To breathe, for fear the fathomless abyss
Will draw me down into eternal sleep.
What force has formed this masterpiece of awe?
What hands have wrought these wonders in the waste?
O river, gleaming in the narrow rift
Of gloom that cleaves the valley’s nether deep,–
Fierce Colorado, prisoned by thy toil,
And blindly toiling still to reach the sea,–
Thy waters, gathered from the snows and springs
Amid the Utah hills, have carved this road
Of glory to the Californian Gulf.
But now, O sunken stream, thy splendour lost,
‘Twixt iron walls thou rollest turbid waves,
Too far away to make their fury heard!
At sight of thee, thou sullen labouring slave
Of gravitation,–yellow torrent poured
From distant mountains by no will of thine,
Through thrice a hundred centuries of slow
Fallings and liftings of the crust of Earth,–
At sight of thee my spirit sinks and fails.
Art thou alone the Maker? Is the blind
Unconscious power that drew thee dumbly down
To cut this gash across the layered globe,
The sole creative cause of all I see?
Are force and matter all? The rest a dream?
Then is thy gorge a canyon of despair,
A prison for the soul of man, a grave
Of all his dearest daring hopes! The world
Wherein we live and move is meaningless,
No spirit here to answer to our own!
The stars without a guide: The chance-born Earth
Adrift in space, no Captain on the ship:
Nothing in all the universe to prove
Eternal wisdom and eternal love!
And man, the latest accident of Time,–
Who thinks he loves, and longs to understand,
Who vainly suffers, and in vain is brave,
Who dupes his heart with immortality,–
Man is a living lie,–a bitter jest
Upon himself,–a conscious grain of sand
Lost in a desert of unconsciousness,
Thirsting for God and mocked by his own thirst.
Spirit of Beauty, mother of delight,
Thou fairest offspring of Omnipotence
Inhabiting this lofty lone abode,
Speak to my heart again and set me free
From all these doubts that darken earth and heaven!
Who sent thee forth into the wilderness
To bless and comfort all who see thy face?
Who clad thee in this more than royal robe
Of rainbows? Who designed these jewelled thrones
For thee, and wrought these glittering palaces?
Who gave thee power upon the soul of man
To lift him up through wonder into joy?
God! let the radiant cliffs bear witness, God!
Let all the shining pillars signal, God!
He only, on the mystic loom of light.
Hath woven webs of loveliness to clothe
His most majestic works: and He alone
Hath delicately wrought the cactus-flower
To star the desert floor with rosy bloom.
O Beauty, handiwork of the Most High,
Where’er thou art He tells his Love to man,
And lo, the day breaks, and the shadows flee!
Now, far beyond all language and all art
In thy wild splendour, Canyon marvellous,
The secret of thy stillness lies unveiled
In wordless worship! This is holy ground;
Thou art no grave, no prison, but a shrine.
Garden of Temples filled with Silent Praise,
If God were blind thy Beauty could not be!
I wonder what the person was thinking when he/she ordered this sign. Is the photographer standing outside and looking into “the wilderness”? Does the trail, with a beginning and destination, not disqualify the area as true wilderness? Does the sign not reflect man’s insatiable need to tame, name, define and label everything like an alpha-wolf “marking” his territory with a squirt of urine?
“The wild is more than a named place, an area to demarcate. It is a quality that beguiles us, a tendency we both flee and seek. It is the unruly, what won’t be kept down, that crazy love, that path that no one advises us to take-it’s against the rules, it’s too far, too fast, beyond order, irreconcilable with what we are told is right.” – David Rothenberg
“Only by going alone in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. All other travel is mere dust and hotels and baggage and chatter.” – John Muir
Just because John Muir rarely complained about being uncomfortably hot or cold, wet or tired, stressed, thirsty, hungry, in pain or besieged by mosquitoes, it does not mean that he did not experience these discomforts. It does, however, mean that he regarded any non-lethal event as the price of admission for getting as close to the pure essence of God’s creation as he possibly could.
Here are some JM thoughts after finding a dead bear in Yosemite. (Teale)
“Toiling in the treadmills of life we hide from the lessons of Nature. We gaze morbidly through civilized fog upon our beautiful world clad with seamless beauty, and see ferocious beasts and wastes and deserts. But savage deserts and beasts and storms are expressions of God’s power inseparably companioned by love. Civilized man chokes his soul as the Chinese [bind] their feet.”
Muir’s love of the wilderness was only eclipsed by his love for his wife and two daughters. He didn’t marry until he was 40 and his wife was well aware of the importance of his love of Nature. In fact, after working for 10 years on their farm in Martinez, Ca., she described the farm as killing his spirit and that he must sell or lease it and return to the wilderness.
In a similar, but different way, in addition to my devotion to my wife and four children, my greatest joys were experienced seeing the wilderness through teenage minds.
However, in both cases, Muir and I became acutely aware that there were no words that could describe our most rapturous moments. How could anyone possibly describe sleeping on top of Half Dome under a canopy of 100 billion stars? Polaris marked the North Pole and the handle of the Big Dipper marked the hours of a cosmic clock. Frequently, either heaven came to Earth or creative, curious minds reached up to create a “mandorla,” an overlap of heaven and Earth.When asked to describe events like these, students would typically radiate warm smiles and say the experience was indescribable.
Likewise, standing on the rim or bottom of Grand Canyon, students would join John Wesley Powell:
“The wonders of the Grand Canyon can not be adequately represented in symbols of speech, nor speech itself. The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail.”
And finally, at the end of each year, students often stood on the Mendocino headlands, looking out over the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean and sensed wisdom that echoed from the beginning of time; off the granite peaks of Yosemite; into the depths of Grand Canyon, and thundered on the waves of Mendocino beaches—ancient echoes of time and the rhythm of the universe.
From a purely biological perspective, what has evolved into what is currently called the United States, is simply a matter of ecology. Darwin would describe it as “survival-of-the fittest,” but it involves plants and animals seeking a place on the planet to live. From a spiritual perspective, however, according to Kurt Vonnegut (Cat’s Cradle) God went away and left it to us figure out the meaning.
Our daughter Maureen recently informed me that the earliest immigrants to North America crossed the Bearing Land-bridge circa 70,000 years ago. They were either escaping brutal tyrants, following food sources or seeking a better place to live. I had previously thought that they immigrated 40,000 years ago and mentioned in, Biodesign Out For A Walk that I felt it was disingenuous to credit Christopher Columbus with discovering America in 1492. Also, while it is true that the Pilgrims may have been the first white settlers to successfully immigrate to the New World, many other groups have since immigrated and made huge contributions to the unique human tapestry of people called Americans.
This brought me back to the one “immigrant” who profoundly changed my life. He was the most responsible for the Biodesign Class and therefore this facebook page and website. As a lad, in his native Scotland, John Muir experienced the horror and pain caused by diseases, poverty and semi-starvation that were common. Eight out of ten of his aunts and uncles died from the “white plague” (tuberculosis). Life in both of the northern lands of Ireland and Scotland was often harsh. The temperatures were often cold; the soil too poor for crops and the growing season was short. Little wonder for the phrase, “Scotland’s greatest export was her people.”
Daniel Muir and three of his children immigrated to the US in 1849. After crossing the Atlantic, they made the arduous 1,000-mile-trip, up New York’s Hudson River, 380 miles along the Erie Canal and eventually, by horse-drawn wagon, to Portage Wisconsin.
John Muir eventually walked to Florida, in hopes of sailing to Brazil to retrace the footsteps of naturalist Baron Von Humboldt. Unfortunately (?) he contracted Malaria and his doctor recommended that he go to California. He sailed to Cuba and later to Panama, where he crossed the Isthmus and sailed up the West Coast, landing in San Francisco in March 1868. In his only reference to the sea voyage he wrote, “Never had I seen such a barbarous mob, especially at meals.” After landing in San Francisco, he walked south to Pacheco Pass, across the San Joaquin Valley to Yosemite Valley.
Although he could not have known it at the time his walk would be what Thoreau called a “saunter” to the holy land (ala sainte terre). He walked into what he later described as a “cathedral”, eight miles long, one mile wide, one mile high, with stained glass windows, incense cedar, Half Dome altar and the sky for a ceiling. He came down from the mountains like an Old Testament prophet preaching: Repent! Repent! The kingdom of Nature is at hand!
In an amazing irony he wrote:
“The mountains are fountains of men as well of rivers, of glaciers, of fertile soil. The great poets, philosophers, prophets, able men whose thoughts and deeds have moved the world, have come down from the mountains—mountain-dwellers who have grown strong there with the forest trees in Nature’s work-shops.”
So Moses came down from Mt. Sinai with the “Ten Commandments” and Muir came down from the Sierra Nevada Mountains with a spiritual message that has “moved the world.” Although the US National Park Service was not created until 1.5 years after his death, his life and work have become a beacon of light shining around the globe. No other Nature writer has stirred the souls of so many people.
Although Ellis Island wasn’t opened until 1882, I am certain that Muir would have reverberated with what his fellow Scotsmen and Irish immigrants had to endure.
“These temple-destroyers, devotees of ravaging commercialism, seem to have a perfect contempt for Nature, and, instead of lifting their eyes to the God of the mountains, lift them to the Almighty Dollar. Dam Hetch Hetchy! As well dam for water tanks people’s cathedrals and churches, for no holier temple has ever been consecrated by the heart of man.” John Muir
In the 1970s, one of the Biodesign Classes was involved in helping draft a revised use proposal for Yosemite Valley. Data that we reviewed showed that the typical visitor spent2.5 hours in The Valley. They drove into Yosemite (or Curry) Village, bought a hot dog, coke and T-shirt and left. The students recommended reducing the “junk food and doo-dad” image, removing the tennis courts and 9-hole golf course (located at the Ahwahnee Hotel) and barring MCA from paving 400 miles of trails immediately surrounding Yosemite Valley.
I am not an elitist and agree with Woody Guthrie’s line, “this land is your land, this land is my land,” however, as Pogo (and Barbara Moritsch) opined, “we have identified the enemy and he is us!”
We are loving Yosemite to death and it is being done with the full support and approval of the USNPS. Yosemite NP is a huge cash cow and supports nearly 2,000 park rangers, maintenance personnel and clerical workers. Reducing the human impact would result in reducing NPS jobs. As well as I know the spirit of John Muir, I am not certain of what he would think about this. I do know that he regarded both Yosemite and Hetch Hetchy Valleys as cathedrals and I think it quite likely that he would be disgusted by 20,000 people a day, slurping beer and soda pop and eating greasy pizza while walking through one of the world’s greatest cathedrals.
Is this not similar to the event that happened 2014 years ago when Jesus drove the money changers out of a Jewish temple?
In 1903, President Roosevelt and naturalist John Burroughs joined John Muir at Yosemite. Muir took every advantage to encourage Roosevelt to take action on many nature projects. When Muir “went off” on one of his exaltations of nature, Burroughs chided him by saying, “Good God man, why don’t you get a pulpit for all of your preachin about the virtues of Mother Nature?” Muir’s “preachin” must have impressed Roosevelt.
Muir & Burroughs in Yosemite
During his presidency, he was responsible for adding five national parks, 18 national monuments and 150 national forests. Muir’s naturalist evangelism must have rubbed off on Burroughs who later met with Roosevelt at Yellowstone National Park. Both men had a huge influence on Roosevelt who added 150 million square acres to our National Parks.
Roosevelt & Burroughs camping in Yellowstone
In his 1913 autobiography, Roosevelt cited the importance of meeting Burroughs and Muir. In the chapter ‘Outdoors and Indoors’; he mentions correspondence with Burroughs, various meetings and a trip that both men made to Yellowstone Park. He also mentions the first trip that he made to Yosemite accompanied by John Muir. He commented “I shall always be glad that I was in Yosemite with John Muir and in the Yellowstone with John Burroughs”.
“When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.” – John Muir
It is highly likely that only the most ardent followers of John Muir are aware of the connection to the stunning Alaskan scenery and his marriage to his beloved Louie-Wanda. He married Louie at the age of 42 and quickly assumed the responsibility of operating her family ranch in Martinez California. When that was brought to order, he purchased a neighboring ranch. One of his neighbors said that he had “green fingers” because everything he planted yielded bountiful crops. His annual production of fruits, nuts and grapes were of the highest quality and yielded the highest prices. He did this for nearly 10 years and, in addition to providing for his family, saved a nest egg of $50,000. Which, according to one source, he never had to touch.
All of this, combined with his shrewd business skills, meant that he was prospering as a farmer. However, there was a huge price to be paid. The long hours, concerns about weather, prevailing prices and competition all took a great toll. The process that he called “money grubbing” was sapping his spirit and weakening his body.
Louie was not unaware of this and exhorted her husband to go to Yosemite for spiritual renewal. When he refused, she decided that she needed a break from housework and demanded that he take her there and be her guide. It was a wonderful outing and they both returned to the farm spiritually refreshed.
Observing the restorative transformation, she pressured him to go to Alaska for the 4th time and continue his studies and writing.
Yosemite Valley and the Sierra Nevada Mountains would always be Muir’s first love, however, Alaska stretched his mind beyond all imagination. Most of the 588,000 sq. miles (Calif. has 158,000) remain as wilderness. The vast mountains, canyons and glaciers might well exceed the area of 10,000 Yosemite Valleys.
Even though he complained about his inability to translate what he was seeing into words, the message must have been received because Louie wrote back that as soon as he returned home they must sell or lease the two ranches. The letter must have been acknowledged as one of the greatest love-letters written.
Louie-Wanda was fully aware that her urgings would mean more periods of separation between John, her and their two daughters, however, his spiritual well-being was foremost in her mind. It is staggering to wonder what might have been lost if she had been more selfish. Ironically, she remains one of the most under-appreciated heroines in the history of wilderness conservation. By providing loving support, as well as a home base, she enabled Muir to become the legend that he has become. Reflecting the common marginalization of Louisa Muir, the 15 page bio. posted in Wikipedia includes this pathetic remark:
“Although Muir was a loyal, dedicated husband, and father of two daughters,"his heart remained wild," writes Marquis. His wife understood his needs, and after seeing his restlessness at the ranch would sometimes "shoo him back up" to the mountains. He sometimes took his daughters with him.[11]
As for Muir, growing up dirt-poor in Scotland, it would have been reasonable for him to spend the next 20 years accumulating more wealth. It is doubtful, however, that he ever forgot nearly blinding one eye with a sharp file and vowing to spend his life, not in pursuit of riches, but studying the works of God. Responding to his wife’s prodding and his inner search for spiritual freedom, he spent the time traveling, writing, lecturing and fighting political battles trying to preserve wilderness areas. It is intriguing to wonder what would have happened if he had elected to work out his years as a farmer. Some form of park system surely would have been created, however, it was his genius that enabled it to evolve into what it is today. Some of America’s best and brightest regard his vision of a National Park Service, along with “The Declaration of Independence” as two of the greatest ideas in The United States.
“Into this one mountain Nature gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion.” – John Muir
Fans of John Muir clearly understand that his love of nature stirred every fiber of his being. For him, nature was not only a pathway to the universe, but also a pathway of enrichment for personal and interpersonal communion and spiritual growth.In the sphere of human biology, there are countless millions of examples of making love and only one involves the genre of sexual reproduction. And, while a huge amount of time and treasure are spent pursuing carnal love, pursuing the platonic virtues of compassion, tolerance, forgiveness and soul-nurturing are profoundly important.
Corey Rich’s glorious photo celebrates life at so many levels (pun intended). If love is a verb then that is exactly what these young people are up to. Whether climbing partners, siblings, lovers or soul-mates, these two must have made a verbal (or tacit) pledge to love, honor and support each other (if necessary) “until death do them part.” The simple fact is that they needed each other for this monumental moment to occur. She needed him to carry out his part and he needed her to do her part. It should not be surprising to look at this photo as a metaphor for marriage; total mutual commitment is required on the journey to higher physical, mental and spiritual ground. The payoff is views and experiences that neither could experience without the other.
I don’t k now if she is reading, The Wilderness World of John Muir, but I am certain Muir would rejoice to see the latest climbing equipment and females joining in the celebration.
I don’t know if any couples have been married on the face of El Capitan, but I do know that Shawn Reeder recorded a wedding on a Half Dome ledge.
Also, several years ago, a soon-to-be bride and groom, best man, maid-of-honor, able-bodied family, friends and pastor all made the 10-mile trek from Yosemite Valley to the top of half Dome for a wedding celebration. No word if champagne and gorp were served to guests after the wedding vows were exchanged.
While researching this post, I found Reverend Carol Dewey who lives near Yosemite in the town of Mariposa, Ca. http://www.weddingsinyosemite.com/. I chatted with her and found out that she officiates at weddings throughout Yosemite and even did two weddings on top of Half Dome last year.
John Muir would have rejoiced in all of this as he considered Half Dome as the High Altar appropriately situated at the east end of his Yosemite Cathedral. Truly a prophet, Muir predicted that Yosemite would become a favorite place where lovers would be drawn “into close and confiding communion.”
The eminent anthropologist/humanitarian Loren Eiseley fully appreciated this concept by suggesting that he was less concerned about man conquering nature than about nature, in the form of God, conquering the human heart. When this happens, he asserts, men lack vision and inspiration and cease to be fully-functional human beings.
Controversial issues can not exist without at least two conflicting points of view. Although John Muir’s primary vision for Yosemite Valley was a place for spiritual renewal, he also described it as a place to play. In a discussion about whether to allow automobiles into Yosemite Valley, he reluctantly agreed that it was probably a necessary evil. As brilliant and far-seeing as he was, he could not have imagined 20,000 people being admitted to The Valley on a given day.
Nevertheless, his vision of national parks was worthy and spread globally. In some cases it has evolved into privately owned preserves that welcome eco-tourists. The combined efforts may be the only hope that many African animals have for escaping the perils of hunting, poaching and habitat displacement.
Carefully planned eco-tourism is not only good for animals and their environment, but it provides sustainable employment. Few objections have been raised against people like Lawrence Anthony (The Elephant Whisperer) who have established eco-tourist game reserves. His Thula Thula reserve, in Zululand, is a widely respected model. Before he died he and his wife welcomed up to 30 guests to stay for as long as a week and take daily safari tours around the 5,000 acre reserve. The area is about 7 times larger than Yosemite Valley and obviously, if he had allowed 20,000 visitors a day, his reserve would have quickly been destroyed.
Just like over-fishing and over-hunting will deplete game reserves, uncontrolled eco-tourism can be exploitive and harmful. Surely, even cold, calculating bean-counters must see that, especially in summer months, Yosemite Valley has become a socio-cultural, environmental disaster not unlike a war zone.
The attached photo of Half Dome was taken in 2010. Again, John Muir could not have imagined over 2,000 hikers, from ages 8-88, making the challenging, 16-mile round-trip trek to the top of The Dome and back to The Valley floor. After years of abuse, YNPS finally imposed a limit of 400 permits per day. The situation has been greatly improved.
During the 1970s, when the Biodesign Classes arrived each fall, there was only one campground open and it was half empty. There were only sparsely scattered hikers on the Half Dome Trail and we seldom saw anyone on the cables. The overnight accommodations were not sold out and The Valley floor exhibited a relaxed, dreamlike quality. It was John Muir’s favorite time of year to be there.
Those days are forever gone, but surely Yosemite lovers and intelligent YNPS leaders understand that the first step in solving the eco-crisis is restricting the daily number of Park visitors.