The summit lay just ahead through the stand of pristine hardwoods. As I stepped out of the shade into the sunlight I faced the outcrop of granite. Leaving the trees and the shady path behind, I began to work my way upward. Slowly I managed to work my upward to the top of the ledge. The view that awaited me would be worth the effort. What I needed now was to focus on the climb and maintain my balance.

Once reaching the top of this massive outcrop of rock, I was able to stand and enjoy the wind blowing from the northwest. The air had a scent of balsam fir and pine, and I breathed deeply this wonderful concoction of wilderness air. I quickly noted that I was alone, and since I had not seen nor heard anyone on the trail, I would most likely be in solitude on this mountaintop for a while anyway. Surveying the valley with its long lake and the mountain ranges further to the west, running northeast to southwest, was a vista that cannot be described.  I pondered how many bear, moose, deer, coyotes and other wildlife was in this valley and beyond. 

Sitting down on the granite I marveled at the story the granite rock told. According to geologists, this rock was formed about 330 million years ago and about 30 million years later it became part of this mountain range. I reclined on the rock to look at the striations in the rock face and let my fingertips gently trace them north to south, the same direction that the mile-thick glacier had taken 20,000 years ago when it left these lines etched in granite. The quartz bands showed the incredible forces that formed these rocks. Some quartz bands were folded multiple times in a very short space. I wondered how many people never see the stories written all around us just waiting for curious eyes so they can tell their tale.

The only sounds were the wind in the trees below me, the birds, and an occasional insect buzzing by braving the wind. No cars or trucks, no planes, no people, no music…just the sounds of nature. The sky was clear blue with a few clouds. I knew there were scattered homes and camps down below, but the forest hid any trace from my view up here. Losing track of time is really easy in such a peaceful place. Hours had passed before I noticed. I believe that given the choice I could easily adjust my “time” to the rising and setting sun, the lunar phases and the seasons. That is why I rarely wear a wristwatch…modern man’s shackle courtesy of the Industrial Revolution. 

Being out here in the wilderness has brought me a sense of peace that no amount of counseling in the city could ever provide. Sometimes I feel like the town I live in of 7,500 and 5 traffic lights (spread out over about 4 miles) is more than enough of a crowd for me. My sister-in-law is very observant and wise. She remarked that I am not a redneck, I’m a mountain man. Mountain Man…the first people to call me that was a couple of Mainers back in 1983. Maybe it was because of my early childhood in Alaska…maybe it is something more. Whatever it is, I’m content.