Travel Hiking Quotes

You need mountains, long staircases don't make good hikers.

The world reveals itself to those who travel on foot

It was this: the future beginning to hang thick in the air, and Henry starting a quiet, drunk conversation about whether or not Blue would like to travel to Venezuela with him. Blue replying softly that she would, she very much would, and Gansey hearing the longing in her voice like he was being undone, like his own feelings were being unbearably mirrored. I can’t come? Gansey asked. Yes, you can meet us there in a fancy plane, Henry said. Don’t be fooled by his nice hair, Blue interjected, Gansey would hike. And warmth filled the empty caverns in Gansey’s heart. He felt known.

The trees were friendly, they gave me rest and shadowed refuge. Slipping through them, I felt safe and competent. My whole body was occupied. I had little energy to think or worry.

Traveling in a third-world country is the closest thing there is to being married and raising kids. You have glorious hikes and perfect days on the beach. You go on adventures you would never try, or enjoy, alone. But you also can't get away from each other. Everything is unfamiliar. Money is tight or you get robbed. Someone gets sick or sunburned. You get bored. It is harder than you expected, but you are glad you didn't just sit home.

Perhaps there is no thrill so great as that which comes with a walk in the freshness of morning air.

Moving right along In search of good times And good news, With good friends you can't lose. This could become a habit. Opportunity just knocked, Let's reach out and grab it, Together we'll nab it, We'll hitch-hike, bus, or yellow cab it.

Of course women's walking is often construed as performance rather than transport, with the implication that women walk not to see but to be seen, not for their own experience but for that of a male audience, which means that they are asking for whatever attention they receive.

Speed is not a priority, just enjoy your hike - Keep smile

How easily such a thing can become a mania, how the most normal and sensible of women once this passion to be thin is upon them, can lose completely their sense of balance and proportion and spend years dealing with this madness.

It was hard to get lost in Missoula even if you wanted to. Wherever you were, all you had to do to get your bearings was look around and find the big letter M, embossed in white halfway up the steep shoulder of grass that reared on the south bank of the Clark Fork River. Though only a hill, it was called Mount Sentinel and if you had the legs and lungs and inclination to hike the trail that zigzagged up it, you could stand by the M and gaze out across the town at a travel-brochure shot of forest and mountain dusted from early fall with snow.

Travel is the discovery of truth; an affirmation of the promise that human kind is far more beautiful than it is flawed. With each trip comes a new optimism that where there is despair and hardship, there are ideas and people just waiting to be energized, to be empowered, to make a difference for good.

Within forty minutes, the voice inside my head was screaming, WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? I tried to ignore it, to hum as I hiked, though humming proved too difficult to do while also panting and moaning in agony and trying to remain hunched in that remotely upright position while also propelling myself forward when I felt like a building with legs.

And now it was official: I loved REI more than I loved the people behind Snapple lemonade.

Well, if you ask me what’s so special about this place.. aku akan bilang, most of the time, beauty lies in the simplest of things. Kayak semilir angin pagi dari teras kamar. Minum air tanpa harus dijerang lebih dulu. Makan sayuran hijau yang baru dipetik. Mendaki kebun teh di siang hari, di tengah gerimis. Menyeruput kuah dengan berisik, setelah kenyang menyantap rebusan rebung muda. Sarapan di kedai mi sederhana yang pernah masuk program televisi. Berjalan kaki sepanjang pasar malam yang dihiasi temaram lentera kertas. Menuliskan doa di kuil. Minum teh hangat di atap terbuka, di bawah hamparan langit berbintang. Hiking di rain forest dan menikmati alam terbuka. Ini hanya kisah perjalanan sederhana, dibumbui beberapa gigitan nyamuk, oleh-oleh sepasang sumpit kayu, dan petualangan kuliner yang nambah-nambahin bobot timbangan. Ini cerita tentang menemukan sesuatu yang nggak terduga, di tempat yang tidak disangka. Semua dari sebuah desa kecil bernama air. And that’s the beauty of small things. Don’t you agree?

LET’S GO BACK HOME I can't think about you, Without smiling. What I wouldn’t give, To go back there, Take you in my arms, Kiss you, And tell you, "I still love you." It's been three decades now, And still your smile's with me, Your wave goodbye, The love in your eyes, And everything else you gave me, Before that highway fog swept in, And stole your spirit away. Oh- to return by your side again, Fish beside the Pleasant Hill Dam, Hike through the Mayer's woods, Hang out on your big hill, Sleep naked in your twin bed, Fill your room with laughter- And marijuana smoke. You returned home- And I traveled on down the road, Found new loves, Safely took them under my wing, And deeply into my heart. But you know, as I do- This wasn’t always possible. I didn’t always have the fire- The courage to stand tall, The joy to expand, Nor the love to give deeply. These were all your gifts-- To me. Someday- When I close my eyes for good, And cry out- "Lord- forgive me for I have sinned-" I'll joyously return by your side, Take you into my arms, Kiss you, And tell you, "I still love you.

...setiap kita punya keinginan, apa pun itu. Karena mimpi inilah yang membuat kita punya harapan. Dan segala keinginan dan mimpi mampu kita wujudkan. Tinggal bagaimana usaha dan kerja keras kita untuk meraih cita dan asa yang tersimpan dalam benak.

There is of course a deep spiritual need which the pilgrimage seems to satisfy, particularly for those hardy enough to tackle the journey on foot.

Kadang kita menemukan teman, sahabat, saudara di tempat yang tidak kita duga. Dan mungkin juga cinta. Tapi yang paling menyenangkan dalam sebuah perjalanan adalah menemukan itu semua, termasuk cinta. Apa pun bentuknya.

wherever they live, travel, hike, swim, fish, dive, kayak, or trek, they risk being confronted by something capable of doing them in with tooth, fang, claw, jaw, or stinger, and yet there is no public clamor to eradicate any animal because of the peril it poses to the human population. australians have learned to coexist in relative peace with nearly everything, and when occasionally a human life is lost to an animal, the public usually reacts philosophically.

Trail magic, the amazing things that happen when you’re out and about, when you open yourself to new experiences, when you pay attention.

Saya awam soal mendaki gunung, tapi itu bukan berarti tidak bisa dilakukan.

Something that has been eluding me for years has finally overtaken me. Contentment. I’ve been living life too fast. But now that I’m traveling at two miles per hour, contentment has caught up with me. God, why do we make our lives so difficult, trying to find contentment? I

Ten years ago there had been a chance he might have considered a fresh start. Traveling, maybe, or a bold new career move. But these days just having to leave the house left him with an unspecific feeling of anxiety, so hiking to Machu Picchu or retraining as a lion tamer wasn’t exactly on the cards.

On a hike, the days pass with the wind, the sun, the stars; movement is powered by a belly full of food and water, not a noxious tankful of fossil fuels. On a hike, you're less a job title and more a human being....A periodic hike not only stretches the limbs but also reminds us: Wow, there's a big old world out there.

Trekking means a travelling experience with a thrilling excitement.

For each of you who dream of a favorite experience anywhere in the world: go out and do it, live it, love it, immerse yourself in it, right now.

In the wilderness, as in life, to get to where you want to go, you first have to know where you are, and in life at least, who you are.

Travelling through thick woods with a troop of goblins is not unlike a nature hike with a group of grumpy toddlers with weapons.

I don't think this place was everything my mother hoped for that day when she asked God where she should go to give her son the world. Though she didn't ford a river or hike across mountains, she still did what so many pioneers before had done, traveled recklessly, curiously, into the unknown of finding something just a little bit better. And like them she suffered and persevered, perhaps in equal measure. Whenever I looked at her, a castaway on the island of my queen-sized bed, it was hard for me to look past the suffering. It was hard for me not to take inventory of all that she had lost -- her home country, her husband, her son. The losses just kept piling up. It was hard for me to see her there, hear her ragged breath, and think of how she had persevered, but she had. Just lying there in my bed was a testament to her perseverance, to the fact that she survived, even when she wasn't sure she wanted to. I used to believe that God never gives us more than we can handle, but then my brother died and my mother and I were left with so much more; it crushed us. It took me many years to realize that it's hard to live in this world. I don't mean the mechanics of living, because for most of us, our hearts will beat, our lungs will take in oxygen, without us doing anything at all to tell them to. For most of us, mechanically, physically, it's hard to die than it is to live. But still we try to die. We drive too fast down winding roads, we have sex with strangers without wearing protection, we drink, we use drugs. We try to squeeze a little more life out of our lives. It's natural to want to do that. But to be alive in the world, every day, as we are given more and more and more, as the nature of "what we can handle" changes and our methods for how we handle it change, too, that's something of a miracle.

A traveling salesman was driving in the country when his car broke down. He hiked several miles to a farmhouse and asked the farmer if there was a place he could stay overnight. "Sure," said the farmer, "My wife died several years ago, and my two daughters are twenty-one and twenty-three, but they're off to college, and I'm all by myself, so I have lots of room to put you up." Hearing this, the salesman turned around and started walking back toward the highway. The farmer called after him, "Didn't you hear what I said? I have lots of room." "I heard you," said the salesman, "but I think I'm in the wrong joke.

Chris loved to look at every type of plant, animal, and bug he hadn’t seen before on the trail and point out those he did recognize. He enjoyed walking along small streams, listening to the water as it traveled, and searching for eddies where we could watch the minnows scurry amongst the rocks. On one Shenandoah trip, while we were resting at a waterfall, eating our chocolate-covered granola bars and watching the water pummel the rocks below, he said, “See, Carine ? That’s the purity of nature. It may be harsh in its honesty, but it never lies to you”. Chris seemed to be most comfortable outdoors, and the farther away from the typical surroundings and pace of our everyday lives the better. While it was unusual for a solid week to pass without my parents having an argument that sent them into a negative tailspin of destruction and despair, they never got into a fight of any consequence when we were on an extended family hike or camping trip. It seemed like everything became centered and peaceful when there was no choice but to make nature the focus. Our parents’ attention went to watching for blaze marks on trees ; staying on the correct trail ; doling out bug spray, granola bars, sandwiches, and candy bars at proper intervals ; and finding the best place to pitch the tent before nightfall. They taught us how to properly lace up our hiking boots and wear the righ socks to keep our feet healthy and reliable. They showed us which leaves were safe to use as toilet paper and which would surely make us miserable downtrail. We learned how to purify water for our canteens if we hadn’t found a safe spring and to be smart about conserving what clean water we had left. At night we would collect rocks to make a fire ring, dry wood to burn, and long twigs for roasting marshmallows for the s’more fixings Mom always carried in her pack. Dad would sing silly, non-sensical songs that made us laugh and tell us about the stars.

Mountains have long been a geography for pilgrimage, place where people have been humbled and strengthened, they are symbols of the sacred center. Many have traveled to them in order to find the concentrated energy of Earth and to realize the strength of unimpeded space. Viewing a mountain at a distance or walking around its body we can see its shape, know its profile, survey its surrounds. The closer you come to the mountain the more it disappears, the mountain begins to lose its shape as you near it, its body begins to spread out over the landscape losing itself to itself. On climbing the mountain the mountain continues to vanish. It vanishes in the detail of each step, its crown is buried in space, its body is buried in the breath. On reaching the mountain summit we can ask, “What has been attained?” - The top of the mountain? Big view? But the mountain has already disappeared. Going down the mountain we can ask, “What has been attained?” Going down the mountain the closer we are to the mountain the more the mountain disappears, the closer we are to the mountain the more the mountain is realized. Mountain’s realization comes through the details of the breath, mountain appears in each step. Mountain then lives inside our bones, inside our heart-drum. It stands like a huge mother in the atmosphere of our minds. Mountain draws ancestors together in the form of clouds. Heaven, Earth and human meet in the raining of the past. Heaven, Earth and human meet in the winds of the future. Mountain mother is a birth gate that joins the above and below, she is a prayer house, she is a mountain. Mountain is a mountain.

I have found that success often comes out of many failures. In some of my failures, I have come face-to-face with the fact I just don’t know enough to do what I’m trying to do. There’s no shame in that. I still have worth and value, despite what I don’t know.

In the history of walking, many experts considering him (Wordsworth) the authentic originator of the long expedition. He was the first – at a time (the late eighteenth century) when walking was the lot of the poor, vagabonds and highwaymen, not to mention travelling showmen and pedlars – to conceive of the walk as a poetic act, a communion with Nature, fulfilment of the body, contemplation of the landscape. Christopher Morley wrote of him that he was ‘one of the first to use his legs in the service of philosophy’.

Why are you telling me?” Maura asked. “Why is your face so red?” “Because you’re my mother. Because you’re an authority figure. Because you’re supposed to inform people of your travel plans when you’re hiking on dangerous trails. This is what my face always looks like.

I walked, floated, lighter—forty miles, my biggest day yet. I'd lifted the burden of guilt and shame off my body. I held my new hard-won wisdom, the gift three months of walking in the wilderness had carried me to: compassion for my younger self—forgiveness for my innocence.

For Her, I Can: > travel to the farthest of destinations > marathon across the globe > hike through the lengthiest of trails > dive into the deepest of oceans > climb the highest of mountains > fly to the edges of the sky and beyond > standstill patiently for eons > g̶o̶ s̶h̶o̶p̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ h̶e̶r̶

Today, she is standing at the top of a mountain and appreciating the majestic panoramic view of mesmerizing Himalaya. As a kid, she used to look up in the sky and wish for wings to fly up to the mountains. And now after a long wait of many years, she is standing here and living her dream. It’s the moment when she can’t believe her eyes because what she always dreamed of has come alive. She looks with amazement as if she’s witnessing a miracle. It is the moment of her life. She just wants to feel it. There are beautiful clouds below her and there are snow clad mountain peaks emerging from those clouds. The white peaks shining in blue sky among white clouds look like glittering diamonds to her. The view of the large lush green meadow surrounded by mountains under blue sky with a rainbow circling the horizon has put her in a state of tranquility. As the sun starts drowning in the horizon, the sky begins to boast his mystical colours. The beautiful mix of pink, orange and red looks like creating a twilight saga. She opens her both arm and takes a deep breath to entwine with the nature. The glimmering rays of the moon are paying tribute to her by kissing her warm cheeks and her eyes twinkle in bright moon light. She raises her face towards the moon and senses the flood of memories which she wants to unleash. The cool breeze lifts her ruffled hair and blows her skirt up. She closes her eyes and breathes deep as if she wants to let her know that she is finally here and then she opens her eyes and finds herself on the same wheelchair inside a room with an empty wall in front of her eye. Tears rolls down from her eye but these are the tears of Joy because she is living her dreams today. The feelings comes to her mind while waiting for her daughter who is coming back home today after her first expedition of a high range mountain ~ AB

Is this what it’s like for adults? When we were in school, we wanted to do nothing but travel the world and have fun and do all sorts of crazy shit. Remember our plans to go to Patagonia? Hike the southern tip of the world? It’s all funny now because right now all I want to do is raid a Pottery Barn store for clearance bedding.

I probably should say that this is what makes you a good traveler in my opinion, but deep down I really think this is just universal, incontrovertible truth. There is the right way to travel, and the wrong way. And if there is one philanthropic deed that can come from this book, maybe it will be that I teach a few more people how to do it right. So, in short, my list of what makes a good traveler, which I recommend you use when interviewing your next potential trip partner: 1. You are open. You say yes to whatever comes your way, whether it’s shots of a putrid-smelling yak-butter tea or an offer for an Albanian toe-licking. (How else are you going to get the volcano dust off?) You say yes because it is the only way to really experience another place, and let it change you. Which, in my opinion, is the mark of a great trip. 2. You venture to the places where the tourists aren’t, in addition to hitting the “must-sees.” If you are exclusively visiting places where busloads of Chinese are following a woman with a flag and a bullhorn, you’re not doing it. 3. You are easygoing about sleeping/eating/comfort issues. You don’t change rooms three times, you’ll take an overnight bus if you must, you can go without meat in India and without vegan soy gluten-free tempeh butter in Bolivia, and you can shut the hell up about it. 4. You are aware of your travel companions, and of not being contrary to their desires/​needs/​schedules more often than necessary. If you find that you want to do things differently than your companions, you happily tell them to go on without you in a way that does not sound like you’re saying, “This is a test.” 5. You can figure it out. How to read a map, how to order when you can’t read the menu, how to find a bathroom, or a train, or a castle. 6. You know what the trip is going to cost, and can afford it. If you can’t afford the trip, you don’t go. Conversely, if your travel companions can’t afford what you can afford, you are willing to slum it in the name of camaraderie. P.S.: Attractive single people almost exclusively stay at dumps. If you’re looking for them, don’t go posh. 7. You are aware of cultural differences, and go out of your way to blend. You don’t wear booty shorts to the Western Wall on Shabbat. You do hike your bathing suit up your booty on the beach in Brazil. Basically, just be aware to show the culturally correct amount of booty. 8. You behave yourself when dealing with local hotel clerks/​train operators/​tour guides etc. Whether it’s for selfish gain, helping the reputation of Americans traveling abroad, or simply the spreading of good vibes, you will make nice even when faced with cultural frustrations and repeated smug “not possible”s. This was an especially important trait for an American traveling during the George W. years, when the world collectively thought we were all either mentally disabled or bent on world destruction. (One anecdote from that dark time: in Greece, I came back to my table at a café to find that Emma had let a nearby [handsome] Greek stranger pick my camera up off our table. He had then stuck it down the front of his pants for a photo. After he snapped it, he handed the camera back to me and said, “Show that to George Bush.” Which was obviously extra funny because of the word bush.) 9. This last rule is the most important to me: you are able to go with the flow in a spontaneous, non-uptight way if you stumble into something amazing that will bump some plan off the day’s schedule. So you missed the freakin’ waterfall—you got invited to a Bahamian family’s post-Christening barbecue where you danced with three generations of locals in a backyard under flower-strewn balconies. You won. Shut the hell up about the waterfall. Sally

There’s so much to do in Bali that you may feel a little overwhelmed when it comes to packing. On a recent trip, I hiked a volcano, went island hopping and snorkelling, went to yoga and breathwork classes, got massages, visited waterfalls, dined at upscale restaurants, spent an afternoon at a beach club, wandered through rice paddies and visited temples.

normal feelings for many people, but if I had my old life back right now and the ability to walk, there are so many things that I would do. . . . I’d go for runs, rock climb, travel more, hike, and see some of the big mountains. I’d do all these things and make sure that I didn’t let a week go by where I didn’t do something new or awesome with my legs, something that required physical ability. Our Bucket Day grew to become really

The ground is unrelenting. We can leave it — and that’s its own kind of shock, an elated rush of triumph. Flight is easy when it’s beautiful. It’s easy when it’s washed in the calm, golden glow of sunsets, and our view is vast, and we are in the company of clouds and vultures and our friends who can also fly. But we must come back down. When the impact is ugly, demeaning, when it slows down time and splits your senses, you don’t just have to come down, you have to come back together, and then you have to hike back up and take off again, now knowing more precisely what you risk.

Sometimes it's best not to know what you are up against; if you are acutely aware of the challenges involved, you'd never do a damn thing. Being clueless is weirdly empowering. You can't worry about the things that you don't yet know you should be worried about. You end up doing wonderful things that you never would have had you been the least bit informed. You run off to Italy. You take horrific and beautiful hikes. You ruin your hair and your makeup and any chance of a future political career. And when it's all over, you can't help but feel anything but incredibly, overwhelmingly grateful (21)

Yosemite is so large that you can think of it as five parks. Yosemite Valley, famous for waterfalls and cliffs, and Wawona, where the giant sequoias stand, are open all year. Hetch Hetchy, home of less-used backcountry trails, closes after the first big snow and reopens in May or June. The subalpine high country, Tuolumne Meadows, is open for summer hiking and camping; in winter it’s accessible only via cross-country skis or snowshoes. Badger Pass Ski Area is open in winter only. Most visitors spend their time along the park’s southwestern border, between Wawona and Big Oak Flat Entrance; a bit farther east in Yosemite Valley and Badger Pass Ski Area; and along the east–west corridor of Tioga Road, which spans the park north of Yosemite Valley and bisects Tuolumne Meadows.

Thegirls also ordered catalogues for items they could never buy, and theLisbons' mailbox filled up once again: furniture catalogues fromScottshruptine, high-end clothing, exotic vacations. Unable to goanywhere, the girls traveled in their imaginations to goldtipped Siamesetemples, or past an old man with bucket and leaf broom tidying amoss-carpeted speck of Japan. As soon as we learned the names of thesebrochures we sent for them ourselves to see where the girls wanted togo. Far East Adventures. Footloose Tours. Tunnel to China Tours. OrientExpress. We got them all. And, flipping pages, hiked through dustypasses with the girls, stopping every now and then to help them take offtheir backpacks, placing our hands on their warm, moist shoulders andgazing off at papaya sunsets. We drank tea with them in a waterpavilion, above blazing goldfish. We did whatever we wanted to, andCecilia hadn't killed herself: she was a bride in Calcutta, with a redveil and the soles of her feet dyed with henna. The only way we couldfeel close to the girls was through these impossible excursions, whichhave scarred us forever, making us happier with dreams than wives.

Nonconformity is an affront to those in the mainstream. Our impulse is to dismiss this lifestyle, create reasons why it can’t work, why it doesn’t even warrant consideration. Why not? Living outdoors is cheap and can be afforded by a half year of marginal employment. They can’t buy things that most of us have, but what they lose in possessions, they gain in freedom. In Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, lead character Larry returns from the First World War and declares that he would like to “loaf.”23 The term “loafing” inadequately describes the life he would spend traveling, studying, searching for meaning, and even laboring. Larry meets with the disapproval of peers and would-be mentors: “Common sense assured…that if you wanted to get on in this world, you must accept its conventions, and not to do what everybody else did clearly pointed to instability.” Larry had an inheritance that enabled him to live modestly and pursue his dreams. Larry’s acquaintances didn’t fear the consequences of his failure; they feared his failure to conform. I’m no maverick. Upon leaving college I dove into the workforce, eager to have my own stuff and a job to pay for it. Parents approved, bosses gave raises, and my friends could relate. The approval, the comforts, the commitments wound themselves around me like invisible threads. When my life stayed the course, I wouldn’t even feel them binding. Then I would waiver enough to sense the growing entrapment, the taming of my life in which I had been complicit. Working a nine-to-five job took more energy than I had expected, leaving less time to pursue diverse interests. I grew to detest the statement “I am a…” with the sentence completed by an occupational title. Self-help books emphasize “defining priorities” and “staying focused,” euphemisms for specialization and stifling spontaneity. Our vision becomes so narrow that risk is trying a new brand of cereal, and adventure is watching a new sitcom. Over time I have elevated my opinion of nonconformity nearly to the level of an obligation. We should have a bias toward doing activities that we don’t normally do to keep loose the moorings of society. Hiking the AT is “pointless.” What life is not “pointless”? Is it not pointless to work paycheck to paycheck just to conform? Hiking the AT before joining the workforce was an opportunity not taken. Doing it in retirement would be sensible; doing it at this time in my life is abnormal, and therein lay the appeal. I want to make my life less ordinary.

We pulled into town in the early evening, the sun dipping into the Tehachapi Mountains a dozen miles behind us to the west. Mountains I’d be hiking the next day. The town of Mojave is at an altitude of nearly 2,800 feet, though it felt to me as if I were at the bottom of something instead, the signs for gas stations, restaurants, and motels rising higher than the highest tree. “You can stop here,” I said to the man who’d driven me from LA, gesturing to an old-style neon sign that said WHITE’S MOTEL with the word TELEVISION blazing yellow above it and VACANCY in pink beneath. By the worn look of the building, I guessed it was the cheapest place in town. Perfect for me. “Thanks for the ride,” I said once we’d pulled into the lot. “You’re welcome,” he said, and looked at me. “You sure you’re okay?” “Yes,” I replied with false confidence. “I’ve traveled alone a lot.” I got out with my backpack and two oversized plastic department store bags full of things. I’d meant to take everything from the bags and fit it into my backpack before leaving Portland, but I hadn’t had the time. I’d brought the bags here instead. I’d get everything together in my room. “Good luck,” said the man. I watched him drive away. The hot air tasted like dust, the dry wind whipping my hair into my eyes. The parking lot was a field of tiny white pebbles cemented into place; the motel, a long row of doors and windows shuttered by shabby curtains. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and gathered the bags. It seemed strange to have only these things. I felt suddenly exposed, less exuberant than I had thought I would. I’d spent the past six months imagining this moment, but now that it was here—now that I was only a dozen miles from the PCT itself—it seemed less vivid than it had in my imaginings, as if I were in a dream, my every thought liquid slow, propelled by will rather than instinct.

Sophie!” Val spotted her first and abandoned all ceremony to wrap his arms around her. “Sophie Windham, I have missed you and missed you.” He held her tightly, so tightly Sophie could hide her face against his shoulder and swallow back the lump abruptly forming in her throat. “I have a new étude for you to listen to. It’s based on parallel sixths and contrary motion—it’s quite good fun.” He stepped back, his smile so dear Sophie wanted to hug him all over again, but St. Just elbowed Val aside. “Long lost sister, where have you been?” His hug was gentler but no less welcome. “I’ve traveled half the length of England to see you, you know.” He kissed her cheek, and Sophie felt a blush creeping up her neck. “You did not. You’ve come south because Emmie said you must, and you want to check on your ladies out in Surrey.” Westhaven waited until St. Just had released her. “I wanted to check on you.” His hug was the gentlest of all. “But you were not where you were supposed to be, Sophie. You have some explaining to do if we’re to get the story straight before we face Her Grace.” The simple fact of his support undid her. Sophie pressed her face to his shoulder and felt a tear leak from her eye. “I have missed you so, missed all of you so much.” Westhaven patted her back while Valentine stuffed a cold, wrinkled handkerchief into her hand. “We’ve made her cry.” St. Just did not sound happy. “I’m just…” Sophie stepped away from Westhaven and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m a little fatigued is all. I’ve been doing some baking, and the holidays are never without some challenges, and then there’s the baby—” “What baby?” All three men spoke—shouted, more nearly—as one. “Keep your voices down, please,” Sophie hissed. “Kit isn’t used to strangers, and if he’s overset, I’ll be all night dealing with him.” “And behold, a virgin shall conceive,” Val muttered as Sophie passed him back his handkerchief. St. Just shoved him on the shoulder. “That isn’t helping.” Westhaven went to the stove and took the kettle from the hob. “What baby, Sophie? And perhaps you might share some of this baking you’ve been doing. The day was long and cold, and our brothers grow testy if denied their victuals too long.” He sent her a smile, an it-will-be-all-right smile that had comforted her on many an occasion. Westhaven was sensible. It was his surpassing gift to be sensible, but Sophie found no solace from it now. She had not been sensible, and worse yet, she did not regret the lapse. She would, however, regret very much if the lapse did not remain private. “The tweenie was anticipating an interesting event, wasn’t she?” Westhaven asked as he assembled a tea tray. While Sophie took a seat at the table, St. Just hiked himself onto a counter, and Val took the other bench. “Joleen,” Sophie said. “Her interesting event is six months old, a thriving healthy child named… Westhaven, what are you doing?” “He’s making sure he gets something to eat under the guise of looking after his siblings,” St. Just said, pushing off the counter. “Next, he’ll fetch the cream from the window box while I make us some sandwiches. Valentine find us a cloth for the table.” “At once, Colonel.” Val snapped a salute and sauntered off in the direction of the butler’s pantry, while Westhaven headed for the colder reaches of the back hallway. “You

Persistence conquers skill, knowledge and qualifications. If you want something strongly enough and are prepared to live outside the system and chase it like you’ve never chased anything before in your life, you can do what you truly want to. Whether that choice is hiking a few thousand miles in the wilderness, sailing around the world, or forging a career as a graphic designer, it makes no difference.

Oh Kabira, where are you going? Are you going away again? Have you forsaken your true love? Have you forgotten your own own words? The night will never end And the stars will keep on shining Are you going to be sad, forever? Are you going to be a wanderer, forever? You will never find sleep in your eyes Because your mind keeps on drifting If you keep on this drifting You will never sleep in your life For some people life means drifting Wandering from place to place They hitch-hike and walk Traveling on the endless road of Life Oh Kabira, where are you going? Are you going away again? Have you forsaken your true love? Have you forgotten your own words?

She was using the metal detector on Thursday morning, running it along the banks of the creek, when a pair of men’s hiking boots appeared at the edge of her vision. Her gaze traveled up a set of long, nicely muscled legs encased in faded denim, past a worn leather belt, over a flat stomach that vee’d to a man’s wide chest. She must have been staring, because Call reached over and shut off the metal detector. “Hi,” she said lamely. He cleared his throat and she wondered if he was as nervous as she. “I saw you working your way along the creek. I figured I owed you an apology for…for what happened the other day.” He glanced over her head, then looked back into her face. “I don’t usually attack helpless women. I hope I didn’t scare you.” She was a lot of things that morning, but afraid of those burning-hot kisses wasn’t one of them. “No apology needed. What happened was my fault as much as yours. Why don’t we just chalk it up to an adrenal rush with nowhere to go?” He nodded and turned to leave. “Actually, I was thinking of coming over to your place,” she said, stopping him. “I never thanked you for saving me. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d probably be bear food by now.” His mouth edged into a faint half-smile. “I doubt it. You don’t really need to be afraid of them. Most of the time, bears leave you pretty much alone. You just need to use a little good judgment and be cautious whenever one’s near.” She studied his face, the chiseled lines and valleys, the square chin and solid jaw. There was something different this morning, but she couldn’t quite figure… “You shaved,” she blurted out, feeling like an idiot the instant the words let her mouth. His lips curved up. She remembered exactly the way they felt pressing into hers and a little sliver of heat trickled into her belly. “Believe it or not, I shave every once in a while.” “You look good.” God, did he. If she’d thought he was handsome before, now she realized how disturbingly attractive he was. “Do I?” A hint of color crept beneath the bones in his cheeks. “Then I guess I’ll have to do it more often.

the one with the lower rate. A few unique things to see in Stockholm include the Nobelmuseet, the Nobel Museum, which tells of the creation of the Nobel Prize and the creativity of its laureates, and the Spiritmuseet, where you can learn about the nation’s complicated relationship with alcohol. Sweden is associated with design (and not just Ikea) and many shops sell Swedish‐only design. Oudoor activities in summer include hiking trails through the islands and archipelago. Winter activities stretch to cross‐country skiing, ice skating and snow hiking. Nightlife is expensive, cover charges to bars can be high and, bizarrely, the minimum age for drinking varies in an arbitrary fashion as it is up to each establishment to make its own decision – it can be anything from 17 to 27. So take identification with you. There are two airports serving Stockholm. Arlanda is 40 kms north of the city and serves main airlines. Skavsta, 100 kms to the south, serves the budget airlines. Both airports have coaches to take visitors directly to the city centre. Downside: Many independently owned restaurants and cafes close for holidays between July and August which can limit the range of places to eat. To read: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. This trilogy of a financial journalist and the tattooed genius with a motive to fight the dark right‐wing forces of Swedish society romped through the bestseller lists.

We belonged to the sandstone and snow created by change. The sands of ancient water bodies and high deserts settled and compacted by other minerals and colored by iron oxide. People traveled there to the sculpted sandstone to see it, to be changed by it, made more serene. We told stories about the place to find our place in it and grew possessive and protective, wary of too many tourists, too many hiking feet, too many souls seeking quiet salvation, adding noise with their footfalls.

We went everywhere. I gave him the grand tour, the best the Pacific Northwest has to offer, which is nothing short of spectacular. Everything revolved around wildlife. We hiked the Coast Range out of my parents’ beach cabin to look for black bears, and traveled to eastern Oregon to see white-tailed deer, coyotes, and the eastern Oregon antelope, animals that Steve had never experienced before. He skied Mount Bachelor. I wasn’t much of a skier, so I went off to track down wildlife while he had a great time on the slopes. Meeting him at the lodge afterward, I had to head off a leggy blonde who was intent on teaching Steve how to use an American pay phone. Not the kind of wildlife I was interested in him experiencing.

Entertainment - Visit one of 40 temples, hike a really nice mountain, mountain biking, sneak into a resort’s pool, play board games, watch TV and DVDs, internet = all free.

So I smile as best I can, saunter over to the Vespa, take the helmet, and say casually as I put it on: “Grazie! I’ve never been on one of these before.” Luca promptly paralyzes me by leaning down, pulling the helmet strap tight, and fastening the buckle under my chin. His aftershave smells like seawater, cool aquamarine, fresh and light; his breath on my face is warm and touched lightly with wine. “Ecco,” he says softly. His fingertips touch my skin. “It must be tight.” He wheels away from me and swings one long leg over the seat, putting the key in the ignition. Over his shoulder he says: “You must hold on to my waist. And when I lean, you must lean with me. Okay?” He’s waiting for me to get on. I mustn’t hesitate, or I’ll look as if I’m scared; I hike my skirt up and climb onto the back. The little scooter’s revving up, rattling noisily and cheerfully, like the cat purring on the wall; Luca looks back and says, “Aspetta.” Quickly, he shrugs off his jacket and hands it to me. It’s leather, butter-soft, like fabric in my hands. “Put it on. It is not cold, but there is wind when we drive,” he says. I slip it on, my head spinning. The collar smells of him, as if he’s wrapped around me. And then, in turn, I wrap my arms around his narrow waist, I feel his warm skin beneath the light cotton of his shirt. He’s just lean muscle over bone, almost skinny, but as the scooter kicks into motion, I can instantly tell how strong he is, because he controls it with small, seemingly effortless flexes of his muscles. His shoulders bunch lightly, taking the strain of bouncing an old Vespa with two people on it over a road that suddenly feels much more rutted and potholed when you’re not traveling in a jeep with good suspension.

Life is simplified on a long walk such as the Camino. You learn to appreciate the simpler aspects – fresh spring water, a smooth trail free of rocks, the sun on your back or just a simple hello from the locals.

I combed through my body, my mind, searching for any residual remains of heartbreaking memories, making peace with them, and often forgiving myself for the role I played. I emptied myself of pain and welcomed new love. I painted it away, I walked it away, I hiked it away, I sang it away, I traveled it away, and I lived my life discovering every reason to pour love within myself. I did everything I could to unclog every inch of pain that may have been left in my body and in my mind.

Dr. Poupak Ziaei, a skilled Hospitalist serving Henderson Hospital, brings her expertise to Platinum Group. Beyond her profession, she cultivates a well-rounded life by participating in sports activities such as hiking and yoga, nurturing her mind and body. During her leisure time, she treasures family bonding embarks on exciting travel journeys, and indulges in culinary experiments.

The physical domain of the country had its counterpart in me. The trails I made led outward into the hills and swamps, but they led inward also. And from the study of things underfoot, and from reading and thinking, came a kind of exploration, myself and the land. In time the two became one in my mind. With the gathering force of an essential thing realizing itself out of early ground, I faced in myself a passionate and tenacious longing—to put away thought forever, and all the trouble it brings, all but the nearest desire, direct and searching. To take the trail and not look back.

Zachary Monte, a licensed plumber who's more than just handy with pipes. He's a skilled carpenter, mason, and painter, making him a true tradesman extraordinaire. Off-duty, Zachary's goals shift to the soccer field, trails for hiking, and mastering new languages while traveling. His adventurous spirit also extends to discovering unique beers and cuisines, reflecting his diverse interests and skills.

She stepped to her clothing trunks, the grand traveling trunks that she had packed so hopefully in the days before she left Bingtown. They had been stuffed when she began her journey, full of sensible clothes fit for a lady adventurer. Stoutly woven cotton blouses with a minimum of lace, split skirts for hiking, hats with veils to ward off insects and sun, sturdy leather boots…little but memories remained of them now. The hardships of travel had softened the fabrics. Her boots scuffed and leaked, the ties now a series of knots. Laundering clothes in the acidic waters of the river had been her only choice, but seams had weakened and hems had frayed. She drew on a set of her worn clothes with no thought as to what they would look like. No one was going to look at her anyway. She was finished forever with worrying about what she looked like or what people thought of her.

BARTON CENTRE, 912, 9th Floor, Mahatma Gandhi Rd, Bengaluru, Karnataka - 560 001 +91 8884400919 Introduction to the Bangalore-Surfnxt Tour Package Welcome to the exclusive New Zealand Tour Package From Bangalore -Surfnxt Tour Package, an unforgettable journey through New Zealand's hidden treasures. You will be taken on a virtual tour of the breathtaking landscapes, cultural treasures, and thrilling adventures that await you on this immersive tour by the author of this article. Prepare to embark on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure in the land of the Long White Cloud, where you'll find treasures off the beaten path, culinary delights, and unforgettable experiences. On the Bangalore-Surfnxt tour package, we'll show you the beauty and charm of New Zealand's hidden gems. Join us as we do so. 1. Introduction to the Bangalore-Surfnxt Tour Package Have you ever wanted to see New Zealand's breathtaking landscapes while enjoying the old-fashioned charm of Bangalore? The Bangalore-Surfnxt tour package is here to fulfill your dreams, so buckle up! Travelers will have an unforgettable time on this one-of-a-kind tour because it combines the excitement of India with the excitement of New Zealand. Overview of the Tour Itinerary This tour promises an exciting journey filled with picturesque landscapes, thrilling activities, and cultural discoveries from the bustling streets of Bangalore to the tranquil shores of New Zealand. Prepare yourself for a once-in-a-lifetime adventure that will leave you with lasting memories. Highlights of the New Zealand Experience Get ready to be mesmerized by New Zealand's breathtaking beauty as you discover its hidden gems, meet welcoming locals, and immerse yourself in its rich Maori culture. This tour has something for everyone, whether you're a nature lover, an adventurer, or a culture buff. 2. Exploring New Zealand's Unspoiled Beauty Are you ready to immerse yourself in the unspoiled beauty of New Zealand while escaping the bustle of everyday life? Prepare to be awestruck by the country's stunning scenery, which includes pristine beaches, snow-capped mountains, and natural wonders that will take your breath away. New Zealand's diverse landscapes, which include imposing fjords, lush forests, and crystal-clear lakes, offer a magical experience. Nature's wonders will surround you at every turn, whether you're hiking through Mount Cook National Park or sailing through Milford Sound. Unique Flora and Fauna Experiencings Get up close and personal with the unique flora and fauna of New Zealand, including curious kiwi birds and ancient kauri trees. Be prepared to encounter some of the most fascinating plant and animal species in the world as you explore the country's wilderness. 3. Exploring Undiscovered Treasures Are you sick of crowded tourist attractions and experiences that are the same every time? It's time to discover New Zealand's off-the-beaten-path treasures, where you can meet real people, see lesser-known sights, and connect with the country's soul. Lesser-Known Attractions and Hidden Spots Go off the beaten path to discover hidden beaches and charming small towns that will surprise and delight you. You'll feel like you're finding a well-kept secret when you discover a local treasure or a hidden waterfall. Connecting with the locals and immersing yourself in their way of life is one of the best ways to truly experience a destination. The Bangalore-Surfnxt tour gives you authentic opportunities to learn traditional dances and eat dinner with a Maori family. These opportunities will make you appreciate New Zealand more. 4. Immersing Oneself in the Rich Tapestry of Maori Culture and Traditions No trip to New Zealand is complete without experiencing the local culture and traditions. Get ready to interact with the locals, take part in traditional activities, and learn more about the country's history.

While George fell asleep in the back of the bus, I examined his outfit, noting that my strange American friend had now got his ‘world traveller’ apparel down to a fine art. His compact munchkin figure wore a short-cropped jeans jacket from Nepal over a ratty pink T-shirt he’d picked up in Bangkok which was decorated with the simple message, ‘Fuck You.’ Beneath a pair of worn out, fashionably torn Levis from Dharamsala poked a brace of dusty hiking boots obtained second-hand from a hill porter in Manali. All this was topped by an expandable Afghani hat, into which he tucked his long, matted dreadlocks. As for his bespectacled features, these were rendered quite dwarfish by a wispy little beard, cut short at the cheeks and running wild below the chin. A glittering array of chunky ethnic rings adorned each finger. He actually had an extra one—fortunately out of sight—which had been inserted into his penis during his last foray into Paharganj. Around his neck hung a final touch: a valuable Zzi-bead necklace purchased from a Tibetan family in Ladakh for the considerable sum of 1600 dollars. Nobody looking at him would have guessed that this was the foremost wholesaler of hippy goods into America.

The cave dwellers laid out quite a spread before Enoch’s family. Though they lived in an underground world, Adam’s troglodytes were adept at growing fruits and vegetables in secret gardens in the foothills within hiking distance of their residence. They spread a sumptuous banquet before the weary travelers. Skilled hunters, they supplemented the produce with mountain goat, gazelle, ibex. Anything with hair, they could catch and kill. Enoch chuckled at the discovery that even isolated from the rest of civilization, they still managed to make beer and wine. The drink of the gods never eluded humanity.

Investing the time in climbing, descending, or traversing toward a new perspective is always worthwhile.

right of Keith Foskett to be identified as the author of this

Alejandro de Humboldt National Park Outside of the major cities, the great majority of Cuba is agricultural or undeveloped. Cuba has a number of national parks where it is possible to see and enjoy some plants and animals that are truly unique to the region. Because it is relatively remote and limited in size, the Cuban Government has recognized the significance and sensitivity of the island’s biodiversity. It is for these reasons many of these parks have been set aside as protected areas and for the enjoyment of the people. One of these parks is the Alejandro de Humboldt National Park, named for Alexander von Humboldt a Prussian geographer, naturalist and explorer who traveled extensively in Latin America between 1799 and 1804. He explored the island of Cuba in 1800 and 1801. In the 1950’s during its time of the Cuban Embargo, the concept of nature reserves, on the island, was conceived with development on them continuing into the 1980’s, when a final sighting of the Royal Woodpecker, a Cuban subspecies of the ivory-billed woodpecker known as the “Campephilus principalis,” happened in this area. The Royal Woodpecker was already extinct in its former American habitats. This sighting in 1996, prompted these protected areas to form into a national park that was named Alejandro de Humboldt National Park. Unfortunately no further substantiated sightings of this species has bird has occurred and the species is now most likely extinct. The park, located on the eastern end of Cuba, is tropical and mostly considered a rain forest with mountains and some of the largest rivers in the Caribbean. Because it is the most humid place in Cuba it can be challenging to hike. The park has an area of 274.67 square miles and the elevation ranges from sea level to 3,832 feet at top of El Toldo Peak. In 2001 the park was declared a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site. Tours are available for those interested in learning more about the flora & fauna, wild life and the natural medicines that are indigenous to these jungles. “The Exciting Story of Cuba” by award winning Captain Hank Bracker is available from Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble.com, BooksAMillion.com and Independent Book Vendors. Read, Like & Share the daily blogs & weekly "From the Bridge" commentaries found on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter and Captain Hank Bracker’s Webpage.

Always take the scenic route.

It is hardly surprising that the initial stage of most mountain journeys involves laborious uphill hiking. Coming at a time when the typical hiker is out of shape, unacclimated, and transporting the heaviest load of the entire trip, the seemingly endless hillsides can elicit rumblings from even the hardiest backpackers. The first section of the High Route qualifies as a splendid example of such unremitting travel, for the hiker must toil up 6,000 feet to the first major pass, a disheartening prospect. Weathered dead pine at timberline Optimistic hikers who seek the brighter side of unpleasant situations, however, will quickly discover mitigating factors on this interminable slope. The well-manicured trail zigzags up the north wall of Kings Canyon with such a gentle gradient that the traveler can slip into a rhythmic pace where the miles pass far more quickly than would be possible on a steeper, rockier path. Thus freed from scrutinizing the terrain immediately ahead, the hiker can better appreciate the two striking formations on the opposite side of the canyon. Directly across the way towers the enormous facade of Grand Sentinel, rising 3,500 feet above the meadows lining the valley floor. Several miles to the east lies the sculpted oddity known as the Sphinx, a delicate pinnacle capping a sweeping apron of granite. These two landmarks, visible for much of the ascent to the Monarch Divide, offer travelers a convenient means of gauging their progress; for instance, when one is finally level with the top of the Sphinx, the upward journey is two-thirds complete. Hikers able to identify common Sierra trees

How do fireflies lose weight? A: They burn calories. *** Q: How do fleas travel? A: Itch hiking!

Walking is the speed we were created to use when travelling through life.

Almost every culture has its own version of “forty days and forty nights,” where some young person is sent into the wilderness to survive, or to have a vision, or both. It’s a rite of passage, a way to select or strengthen the tribe’s warriors. The individual is stripped of everything. No clothes, no weapons, no food. The ones that come back are transformed in a way that the elders recognize and the uninitiated envy. The calm confidence in one’s own abilities coupled with a dash of enlightenment is a powerful combination. But what does a modern warrior do with that?

Kodaikanal holiday makers favorite pick among hotels, resorts, cottages, homestay in kodaikanal and boutique hotel. Just five minutes walking distance to the Kodaikanal lake, Bryant park, nearby forest, hiking trails, view points, Kodaikanal Club, Kodaikanal international school, shopping area bus stand, and restaurants like Dominos, Subway, Cafe coffee day and many more,you can book your rooms at some of the best place at kodaikanal.

and Hiking: Madeira's stunning landscapes and network of hiking trails make walking and hiking popular activities for visitors. The island is crisscrossed with Levada walks, mountain trails, and coastal paths, offering opportunities to explore its natural beauty on foot. Guided hiking tours are available for those looking for expert guidance and insight into Madeira's flora, fauna, and geology. Cable Cars and Funiculars:  In certain areas of Madeira, such as Funchal and Monte, cable cars and funiculars provide scenic rides and convenient access to viewpoints, gardens, and other attractions. The Monte Cable Car, for example, takes passengers from Funchal to the hillside village of Monte, offering panoramic views of the city and harbor along the way.

Through travel, I have come to appreciate that there are two types of people in the world - those that have a passion to see it, and those who struggle to find a reason to even leave their neighbourhood. This book is exclusively for the former - the restless spirits who believe that the best stories are found off the beaten path and that the only baggage worth carrying is the kind that fits in the overhead compartment. The people who believe that life's journey is not complete without a suitcase full of memories (and maybe a few questionable food decisions).

Travel Bucket List 1. Have a torrid affair with a foreigner. Country: TBD. 2. Stay for a night in Le Grotte della Civita. Matera, Italy. 3. Go scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. Queensland, Australia. 4. Watch a burlesque show. Paris, France. 5. Toss a coin and make an epic wish at the Trevi Fountain. Rome, Italy. 6. Get a selfie with a guard at Buckingham Palace. London, England. 7. Go horseback riding in the mountains. Banff, Alberta, Canada. 8. Spend a day in the Grand Bazaar. Istanbul, Turkey. 9. Kiss the Blarney Stone. Cork, Ireland. 10. Tour vineyards on a bicycle. Bordeaux, France. 11. Sleep on a beach. Phuket, Thailand. 12. Take a picture of a Laundromat. Country: All. 13. Stare into Medusa’s eyes in the Basilica Cistern. Istanbul, Turkey. 14. Do NOT get eaten by a lion. The Serengeti, Tanzania. 15. Take a train through the Canadian Rockies. British Columbia, Canada. 16. Dress like a Bond Girl and play a round of poker at a casino. Montreal, Quebec, Canada. 17. Make a wish on a floating lantern. Thailand. 18. Cuddle a koala at Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary. Queensland, Australia. 19. Float through the grottos. Capri, Italy. 20. Pose with a stranger in front of the Eiffel Tower. Paris, France. 21. Buy Alex a bracelet. Country: All. 22. Pick sprigs of lavender from a lavender field. Provence, France. 23. Have afternoon tea in the real Downton Abbey. Newberry, England. 24. Spend a day on a nude beach. Athens, Greece. 25. Go to the opera. Prague, Czech Republic. 26. Skinny dip in the Rhine River. Cologne, Germany. 27. Take a selfie with sheep. Cotswolds, England. 28. Take a selfie in the Bone Church. Sedlec, Czech Republic. 29. Have a pint of beer in Dublin’s oldest bar. Dublin, Ireland. 30. Take a picture from the tallest building. Country: All. 31. Climb Mount Fuji. Japan. 32. Listen to an Irish storyteller. Ireland. 33. Hike through the Bohemian Paradise. Czech Republic. 34. Take a selfie with the snow monkeys. Yamanouchi, Japan. 35. Find the penis. Pompeii, Italy. 36. Walk through the war tunnels. Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. 37. Sail around Ha long Bay on a junk boat. Vietnam. 38. Stay overnight in a trulli. Alberobello, Italy. 39. Take a Tai Chi lesson at Hoan Kiem Lake. Hanoi, Vietnam. 40. Zip line over Eagle Canyon. Thunderbay, Ontario, Canada.

The next time you meet new people, ask them what they do for fun. Watch their eyes light up as they talk about the hike they took in the forest, the picture they are painting, the song they are writing, or the river they recently kayaked. It creates a completely different dynamic.

Common interests are not enough to build a great relationship on. You may enjoy hiking together or traveling together, biking together or listening to live music together. You may share a love of movies, museums, art, animals, or any number of interests that can draw people together. But it is a mistake to think that these provide a solid foundation for a long-term relationship. In fact, common interests can very often turn out to be a false foundation, creating the illusion of a deeper relationship than was actually present.

Away deep in the aim to study himself in the school of the land his ancestors' gravestones flowered, Rip planned to burn his oil on the journey for growth by the hike, the thumb, the hitch, the rod, the freight, the rail, and he x'd New York on a map and pencilled his way to and into and through and under and up and between and over and across states and capitals and counties and cities and towns and villages and valleys and plains and plateaus and prairies and mountains and hills and rivers and roadways and railways and waterways and deserts and islands and reservations and titanic parks and shores and, ocean across to ocean and great lakes down to gulfs, Rip beheld the west and the east and the north and the south of the Brobdingnagian and, God and Christ and Man, it was a pretty damn good grand big fat rash crass cold hot pure mighty lovely ugly hushed dark lonely loud lusty bitchy tender crazy cruel gentle raw sore dear deep history-proud precious place to see, and he sure would, he thought, make the try to see it and smell it and walk and ride and stop and talk and listen in it and go on in it and try to find and feel and hold and know the beliefs in it and the temper and the talents in it and the omens and joys and hopes and frights and lies and laughs and truths and griefs and glows and gifts and glories and glooms and wastes and profits and the pulse and pitch and the music and the magic and the dreams and facts and the action and the score and the scope and span of the mind and the heart and spine and logic and ego and spirit in the soul and the goal of it.

I wanted to travel, to see the world. To hike, run, swim, cycle for thousands of miles into an endless horizon. Only… I couldn’t do that. Why couldn’t I do that? Could I? And then I realised, I could. The only person making me be here was me. I was here by choice. What a revelation! I could at any moment, entirely of my own free will, get up, walk out of the door and never come back.

Was it ghastly?" I remembered the sunlit summer of 1940, the crowds rushing from Paris, as from a fire, to join the snake-like lines of mattress-topped cars that drove slow, slower and slowest of all just before their closely packed passengers scattered into ditches where the dive bombers still found them. I remembered Nice with its sea and sky and palm trees still as bright as new travel posters and its sidewalks crowded with the most typical of twentieth-century tourists: displaced persons. I remembered the sensation of living in a dull fear-encircled vacuum and the incredulous joy with which I greeted my husband when he arrived hollow-eyed from his narrow escape and long hitch-hike across two countries. I remembered Lyons in the unheated winters, the wind scything between the cliff-like gray houses and inserting itself into the city's labyrinth of passageways. I remembered the turnip meals, the recurrent colds and chilblains, the disinclination to wash in icy water, the sordid temporary lodgings and false identity cards, the drearily uncomfortable atmosphere, and the exhilarating meetings with friends who had also escaped arrest. And then I remembered my husband's arrest and the nightmare that followed. "Yes," I said, repudiating stiff upper lips, "yes, it was ghastly.

​On August 13th I hiked into one of my favorite places on earth: The Wind River Range. Nothing else I have come across in all my travels thus far has left an impression on me quite like this mountain range. Never have I been moved to tears so many times by a simple landscape, than in Wind River. How a place so beautiful can exist, while still affording seemingly infinite space and solitude to utterly lose yourself (within and without), is beyond me.

How do I know I have lived? How can I be certain my days were not squandered? What criteria, which principles qualify life as lived? Certainly, I have endured trials and troubles, and I learned from life’s lessons. I grew wise as well as empathetic. But is edification and its accompanying traits the ultimate aim for living? I have traveled. Oh, I have seen marvelous wonders in this world. Skies that were artic blue, emerald green, soft lilac, and rosy red. Mountains fixed like monuments to the gods. Waters as clear as crystal, as blue as larimar, deeper than a leviathan’s lair, and as vast as the night’s sky. I have witnessed pyramids and castles, colosseums, great walls, and temples. Is this living? To travel, to see, to awe at the world’s aesthetic wonders? I have experienced great joys in my days: laughter, kindness, fun, love, thrills, successes. I have suffered a great many sorrows: sickness, loss, pain, cruelty, vengeance, disparagement. I have valued the good and abhorred the bad. Is this the ultimate feat of living? I have been actively doing: from sailing to flying, acting to singing, hiking to biking. I have dived, danced, drummed, battled, built, raced, and used my incredible body to perform every activity I desired. I gained strength and endurance in the process. Is this a sure sign of living? I have been part of a family and raised my own. I have formed lasting, loyal friendships that have passed the test of time. I have felt what it means to sacrifice for loved ones, shared in their joys and sorrows, prayed for tender mercies and miracles in their lives. I have loved and been loved in return. Is it connection to family and friends, the relationships developed between kindred, is this what it means to truly live? How do I know I have lived? As my days near an end, how can I be certain my life was worthwhile and not wasted? Did I accomplish what life mandates of those who truly live? What qualifies life as lived?

Discover the captivating life of Robert Orr, the ingenious mind behind Black Mountain Stove and Chimney. Hailing from Black Mountain, NC, his passion for wood and gas appliances is rivaled only by his love for travel. From hiking trails to diving in the Caribbean, Robert's adventures reflect his commitment to a life well-lived and homes filled with warmth.

The philosophy that guided my ultralight backpacking innovations—“take less, do more”—also guided me in just about every aspect of my life.

When we know exactly what we need and how to provide it for ourselves, then we also come to recognize what is not essential.

In all aspects of our lives, balance matters, and it shapes what our ultimate experience will be. But to find our own true and unique balance, we have to first assess our choices.

Facing failure and learning to overcome it can be a powerful motivator, giving us a boost that transcends the problem currently facing us.

Being kind and generous doesn’t always have to cost us a lot. It’s more a matter of attuning ourselves to those around us. But that takes practice, like everything else.

By taking less, I’m able to do more, and the result benefits the entire community. What more could we want for a healthy and fulfilling life?

Grief and times of desolation will visit every one of us, and learning to see them as a gift rather than a curse can change our resistance.

We must learn to consciously remind ourselves of our copious blessings even when the rest of our life doesn’t measure up in the way we want. There will always be aches and wishes beyond our reach, and yet we can still appreciate what we have and share our plenty.

If we’re not constantly pushing the boundaries of what we know and how we’re interacting with the world around us, then life becomes repetitive and tedious.

Erika Anglehart, a Mental Health Counselor in CO, is a responsible and loyal professional. She is open-minded and dedicated to her family. Erika enjoys music, hiking, and trying new foods, and she has traveled extensively, experiencing diverse cultures in places like Korea, Germany, and the Caribbean.

Extreme care must be taken when within close proximity to heat sources such as cylinder stoves. It is all too easy to accidentally brush up against the stove with your coat sleeve or, worse, your sleeping bag!

A few weeks after my injury, when I was in the rehab center, I found someone willing to travel to the center to give me a massage. Partway through, she suggested trying something called Reiki. This is where instead of touching you, the masseuse waves their hands through the air over you to “adjust your energy fields.” You can probably tell by the way that I describe this that I think this is a bunch of BS. Does it work for some people? Of course it does. The placebo effect can work with any type of treatment or medication by providing someone with an improvement if and when they expect to get one. The nice doctor in the white lab coat gives you some pills and says, “Take two of these each morning, and your pain should feel much better.” The medication that the doctor gives you could be nothing more than sugar pills. Still, if you really believe that you’ll benefit from it, your brain finds a way to make at least some improvement come true. In double-blind studies, it’s been proven that the placebo effect can provide as much as a 32 percent improvement. Because of this, for new drugs to be approved in the US, they need to test at a level that’s higher than the 32 percent placebo level of improvement. So, if I’d believed in Reiki, then I may have experienced some benefit from it, but I don’t, so I didn’t get anything out of the treatment. That said, I think it’s interesting that when dealing with chronic pain, the temptation is to try almost anything, no matter how crazy it sounds. The hope is that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to get some relief from your ongoing pain.

Spanish word sendereando, for hiking, is compact and pretty (sendero is path), but the wisest phrase for this activity is the Latin solvitur ambulando (“it is solved by walking”), attributed to Saint Augustine. The phrase was mentioned by the long-distance walker Patrick Leigh-Fermor to Bruce Chatwin. “Hearing it, immediately Bruce whipped out his notebook,” Chatwin’s biographer wrote. Walking to ease the mind is also an objective of the pilgrim. There is a spiritual dimension too: the walk itself is part of a process of purification. Walking is the age-old form of travel, the most fundamental, perhaps the most revealing.