Where Town and Country Meet 



Sterling loomed directly ahead of me, its 

 long ridge bristling with pines and firs, and 

 its knoblike peak brushed by fleecy clouds. 

 I debated whether, even now, I would not 

 swerve to the left and make for the "White 

 Rocks," where there is said to be a faint 

 trail leading up the ridge to the peak. How 

 ever, the thirst for adventure was not yet 

 quite abated in me, and I decided to keep 

 on as I had planned, straight up the pathless 

 side of the mountain. 



I followed the road across the clearing, 

 until I reached the point where I thought 

 I ought to strike into the woods. Then, 

 leaving the last trace of civilization behind 

 me, I took a final "range" of the peak with 

 my compass, and plunged into Sterling's 

 broad belt of forest. 



For the first mile or two the ascent was 

 gradual and easy. The woods, too, were 

 more open and free from bogs and tangles. 

 I walked with freedom, and felt a certain 

 exhilaration in the relief from little physical 

 worries and annoyances. The morning was 

 rapidly passing, and I began to feel a sen 

 sation of agreeable vacuity under the belt 

 174 



