"Here now the earth was a splendorous thing—snow on the ground, in melting patches in the grass, and gurgling creeks, and the huge silent rock mountains on both sides, and a wind blowing, and the smell of heather. We forded a lovely little creek, shallow as your hand, pearl pure lucid water, and got to the huge rock. Here were old charred logs where other mountainclimbers had camped."
— My friend lent me Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums to read and I’ve had a strange desire to flee Toronto and spent the rest of my life climbing mountains the past few days. Pretty sure there’s a connection between the two…
