112 



{ Oh, Ranger!' 



mountain they have adopted for the time being, and camp for a long 

 enough time to give everyone in the party a chance to climb the highest 

 peaks in the region. These expeditions include men and women. The 

 organized climbs must be made when climbing is best, for safety's sake, 

 generally in the middle of the summer, which is about the only time a 

 large party can reach the tips of the highest mountains. 



Free-lance mountain climbers are hardy souls who make it a hobby 

 to climb every high mountain they can reach, often under the most diffi 

 cult circumstances, sometimes in the dead of winter. They seldom 

 bother with camps. They operate singly or in twos and threes against 

 the heights. Since they are experienced mountaineers and know enough 

 to come well equipped, the free-lances are as a rule well able to take care 

 of themselves. They hit the trail any time of year and think nothing of 

 blazing new routes up the peaks. 



Nature lovers don't care a hang what is up on top of the mountain. 

 The trail lures them not because it leads to the earth's high spots but 

 because it winds through woods and meadows and dells and across car 

 pets of flowers. The nature lovers are looking for butterflies and ani 

 mals and wild things that blossom of their own free will. They meander 

 over the trails at leisure, fluttering about some ranger naturalist like so 

 many disciples about an apostle. The flower lovers are on the trails as 

 long as Dame Nature holds open house in the great out-of-doors. 



Trail riders are a breed to themselves. 

 The old hands at the sport love the smell 

 of the saddle, and the tenderfoot is thrilled 

 by the adventure of it all. You would 

 think that a narrow ledge, flanked by a 

 high granite wall on the one side and a 

 hundred-foot drop on the other, would be 

 the last place in the world to learn to 

 ride. But the trail ponies know their stuff, 

 and if the trail rider but gives his mount 

 the rein he will follow the guide's horse 

 to the end of the trail. Trail-riding is fun 

 in itself, and the time of year makes not 

 much difference in fact, they trail-ride 

 the snowdrifts in some parks. 



The plain and lowly hiker, with his 

 camera in his hand and perspiration on 

 his brow, outnumbers all the aforemen 

 tioned gentry of the trails something like four to one. The hikers are 

 the ordinary folks, sick of the sight of old brick walls, longing for a 

 look at the wilderness, hoofing it along the winding path for no other 



