I've always loved the Tetons.
Ever since I was a young boy, I've loved to see these majestic mountains. You can see the Grand Teton and Mount Moran from my grandfather's porch. My parents got engaged on the shores of Jenny Lake. And I have relished the opportunities in my life to bask in the glory of the Tetons.
There is something about the mountains in the West. Having recently been in Korea, I got to do a little exploring and hiking of my own. The mountains there are more ancient, both in time as well as in spirit, and they feel different - more cultured, more elegant, and subdued, bordering on the sublime and contemplative. One feels the footprints of the millenia marching across their sculpted monoliths, and the hand prints of generations of people.
The mountains in the West are not that. They are rugged and harsh. They are young and full of energy. One does not go into the Rockies to set up a Buddhist retreat - one goes into the Rockies with only the thought of survival. They are primal and fresh, with no deep mysteries, only raw, unfettered power. They are not contemplative or inviting. It is possible to step off a trail and feel that you're the only human being who has ever stood on that spot. Which can be unnerving, but it can also be uplifting. Because you can connect with the Rockies in a way that is intimate and singular, which is something that is hard to do when you're both literally and figuratively surrounded by humankind. The mountains of Korea are inspiring, while the mountains of the West are awesome.
I don't know if I have a preference. I enjoy both types in their sphere, and just as I find a place in my world for crowded places and dense cityscapes as well as isolated and contemplative spaces, I find myself drawn to both types of mountains at different times and for different reasons. Obviously my proximity to the Rockies keeps me going back there, but I also love the gentle, refined beauty of the mountains in Korea.
Ever since I was a young boy, I've loved to see these majestic mountains. You can see the Grand Teton and Mount Moran from my grandfather's porch. My parents got engaged on the shores of Jenny Lake. And I have relished the opportunities in my life to bask in the glory of the Tetons.
There is something about the mountains in the West. Having recently been in Korea, I got to do a little exploring and hiking of my own. The mountains there are more ancient, both in time as well as in spirit, and they feel different - more cultured, more elegant, and subdued, bordering on the sublime and contemplative. One feels the footprints of the millenia marching across their sculpted monoliths, and the hand prints of generations of people.
The mountains in the West are not that. They are rugged and harsh. They are young and full of energy. One does not go into the Rockies to set up a Buddhist retreat - one goes into the Rockies with only the thought of survival. They are primal and fresh, with no deep mysteries, only raw, unfettered power. They are not contemplative or inviting. It is possible to step off a trail and feel that you're the only human being who has ever stood on that spot. Which can be unnerving, but it can also be uplifting. Because you can connect with the Rockies in a way that is intimate and singular, which is something that is hard to do when you're both literally and figuratively surrounded by humankind. The mountains of Korea are inspiring, while the mountains of the West are awesome.
I don't know if I have a preference. I enjoy both types in their sphere, and just as I find a place in my world for crowded places and dense cityscapes as well as isolated and contemplative spaces, I find myself drawn to both types of mountains at different times and for different reasons. Obviously my proximity to the Rockies keeps me going back there, but I also love the gentle, refined beauty of the mountains in Korea.
Comments