THE WILD 87 



It was peculiarly elating to stride along through the world above the 

 10,000-foot contour where an energy unknown at ordinary elevations seemed 

 to be liberated. One felt like keeping on and on forever. However, I had set 

 Green River Pass as the limit of what I could do and still reach road's end 

 before dark. As I looked northward from the pass, it was pleasant to realize 

 that the closest road across the range, after 2 days of steady travel northward, 

 was yet 50 miles away. 



I turned reluctantly and started back. It was just sunset when I reached 

 the road above Fremont Lake, the outpost of civilization, the end of the 

 primitive. It tied me into the world of modern life with all the cumulative 

 marvels built by man's ingenuity from the dawn of time. Yet, as I took one 

 last look into the Wind River Mountains where we had been buried for 6 

 glorious days, I had the feeling that all of man's ingenuity could not create 

 anything to equal the world of the untamed wilderness. 



