It takes about a month without a backpack trip before I will do almost anything to get out of town for a day or two, and I bet I am not the only backpacker who lives in this rhythm.

I mean, is it just me, or does this traffic keep getting worse and worse?

It seems that we are all pretty near collectively insane, and don't see it. It is like it is unthinkable and un-American to do anything other than drive our 1000+ pound vehicles everywhere we go, even if it is to the store to get a loaf of bread or a Friday night video.

Well after about four or five weeks of this I have to say BS.

I can think of some other awful good Americans that had another vision of what is great about our country - And that is that character that comes from spending time in high wilderness and wide open spaces - John Muir and Teddy Roosevelt are a couple.

That is the America that I was looking for last weekend, and I believe I found it, on an intermediate ridge that only faint wildlife trails led to, with cliffs on three sides, but a back slope approach that opened up to a level 30 foot wide opening, at least 150 yards long,

So, I set up camp and hiked down and back to the river for some extra water for me and my dogs, then spent the better part of the weekend watching the weather change from storm to calm from my cliff campsite, and exploring and finding that I shared this mountain of Ponderosa Pine woods and meadows with black-capped chickadees and spring pasque flowers and coyotes that made themselves heard as darkness fell.

Well this kind of thing does wonders to reduce the stress of modern life, that I have heard said can be one of the primary causes of many kinds of health problems.

About the only stress I had was trying to get into my winter sleeping gear - which from inner to outer is a fleece blanket, then a vapor resistant bag to keep moisture from my body from condensating on the sleeping bag, then my -15 rated mummy sleeping bag, and finally an outer moisture resistant shell to keep snow and wet dogs from getting the bag wet from the outside.

The tough part was wiggling into all this gear, and I found it easier to stand outside this time and step into all the bag layers, then lie down and scrunch like a caterpillar into the tent.

Once situated though, I slept soundly, with my dogs around me to help keep the tent warm, from 9pm to after dawn, and had many vivid, good dreams, which always seems to be the case when I am sleeping in wild country.

It is a waste of words to try to describe how good this was up on that hidden ridge, and what it does for my serenity and my belief in the divinity that one finds reflected in nature. It is one of those things you need to find for yourself, to experience by yourself.

There are countless uncrowded, hidden places in this country when one can find renewal, and yes, a whole lot of peace, if you just go and search them out. About the only advice I can give is get started.

I am often asked if I am not lonely on my solitary excursions. It seems so self-evident that one cannot be lonesome where everything is wild and beautiful and busy and steeped with God that the question is hard to answer. - John Muir