I shall go on some last wilderness trip, to a place I have known and loved. I shall not return.

I'll never stop wandering. And when the time comes to die, I'll find the wildest, loneliest, most desolate spot there is.

I must pack my short lifer full of interesting events and creative activity. Philosophy and aesthetic contemplation are not enough. I intend to do everything possible to broaden my experiences and allow myself to reach the fullest development. Then, and before physical deterioration obtrudes, I shall go on some last wilderness trip to a place I have known and loved. I shall not return.

I have not tired of the wilderness; rather I enjoy its beauty and the vagrant life I lead, more keenly all the time. I prefer the saddle to the street car and the star sprinkled sky to a roof, the obscure and difficult trail, leading into the unknown, to any paved highway, and the deep peace of the wild to the discontent bred by cities.

But then, I am always being overwhelmed. I require it to sustain life.

I'm drunk on the fiery elixer of beauty.

I have seen almost more beauty than I can bear.