It was June of 1869 when John Muir reluctantly accepted a job herding sheep from the central valley of California to the headwaters of the Merced and Tuolumne Rivers, high into the Sierra Nevadas and deep into the Yosemite region. He felt ill equipped for the work, and yet the opportunity thrilled his adventurous spirit. With a notebook tied to his belt, he set out for a summer he would never forget.
My First Summer in the Sierra is Muir’s classic account of that extraordinary journey. It was not published until 1911, by which time he had become well known for his work as a naturalist and conservationist. One hundred years later, we can still experience Muir’s transcendent joy, as he climbed the mountains, explored the lakes and streams, and studied the region’s flowers and trees. His words have since beckoned countless travelers to Yosemite National Park.
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Almost every line is quotable
I read this after returning from a backpacking trip in the Sierras, and it was great to hear what was different for a traveler in Muir's time compared to now (not to mention how different it must have been for a risk-taker like Muir compared to me). Muir's writing style is so old-timey and reverent, the story almost sounds like a religious text.
The author refers to plant and animal species, as well as geographic locations, very specifically.
Scattered Rare Gems