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Show 140 I think of white whales and black mountains. I consider El Capitan as a kind of wilderness, as a kind of Moby Dick, on account of its whiteness, its blankness, and its climbing history. There was always a map on it, if only men were ready to read it. I am not talking about the North American Wall, which is a figment of our aesthetic and cultural imagination. I am talking about a map which has no human face. I remember that Ahab was appalled at the inhuman face of Moby Dick, and took it upon himself to strike through the mask, with violence. And I think Muir's experience offered an alternative to Ahab's way of reading the face of Nature. One did not have to strike through the mask, if one was willing to live on it long enough. Then, in due time, the face of El Capitan would turn translucent. When Chouinard and Herbert went up to climb El Capitan and named their route the Muir Wall, they were right, because they chose to launch themselves out onto a glorious ocean without human charts. This is the heart of the wilderness experience. If Chouinard and Herbert did not achieve the awakening Muir described, I would be surprised, since they had at least followed the necessary prerequisites. For them the wall must have glowed in the moonlight as if from within, revealing what they knew was beyond. High on the rock, they must have noticed their ropes grew weightless, and lofted in the wind, just as their bodies did. Up there, men became |
