JOHN MUIR’S ROUGHEST NIGHT
The storm chased John Muir down Mount Shasta in northern California. With clouds wheeling overhead, he descended from the summit as fast as possible. Even so, he’d barely reached the tree line when the first flakes fell—skirmishes before an onslaught of freezing snow. Having lived to the ripe old age of 36, Muir had been in such fixes before. In a frenzy of energy, he gathered wood and coaxed a fire to life. As he’d neglected to bring a tent, the Scot cozied up to the lee side of a log and went to sleep on a pile of leaves. The storm burst around him.
Though he’d initially set out on a day trip, Muir spent that second night on the mountain in early November 1874 listening to the tones of the wind, catching snow crystals and examining them under a lens. He awoke covered in snow. Instead of tramping directly down the mountain, however, Muir determined he would spiral around it.
“By this time I began to feel a little ‘gone’ from lack of food,” Muir recalled. “I’ve often spent two days without anything to eat and even felt better for it; but the third day is getting toward the point of being too much.”
Fortunately, Muir spied a plume of smoke. Working toward it, he came across a party of Mexican sheepherders and conveyed through gestures he was starving. The generous Mexicans prepared a meal for Muir and invited him to share their camp. In the. For the next three days Muir continued hiking. On the seventh day he completed his circuit of Mount Shasta and strode into Strawberry Valley (site of the present-day city of Mount Shasta). Around noon he reached Sisson’s Tavern.
