Michael Yates

The beauty of the natural world is a sublime enjoyment we got for free, and this made the pleasure from having possessions pale by comparison. We decided never to let things become our masters. We began to comprehend the great age of the earth, evident every time we walked on rocks or ocean shore, and this made us see the insignificance of our lives. But we were content.

When one of us had a life-threatening illness, remembering our years on the road, mentally reliving the exciting things we did and the inspiring landscapes we saw, gave a comfort nothing else could have given. We are a part of the great and endless circle of life, nothing more, but nothing less.

For ten years now, we have been driving the highways of the United States, sometimes stopping in a town for a year or so, sometimes just drifting from place to place… . We’ve broken free of the growing entrapment of modern life by refusing to keep working long hours in meaningless jobs when we didn’t have to, saving instead of spending, keeping on the move, eating less but healthier, and staying in good physical condition.

At Mt. Hood in Oregon there is a beautiful lodge, The Timberline. It was built during the Great Depression, under the auspices of the Works Progress Administration. Not only was it publicly funded, built, and operated, but the workers were trained to perform skilled crafts that they had never done. Form and function are magnificently combined. What a model this could have been for planners and builders.

There used to be a lot of men and women like our friend. Thin, wiry, fit, able to do hard physical labor outdoors, to hike, ski, swim. Every now and then, we see an older man or woman, walking proud and erect, slim and trim. In the west, the man might have on boots, a cowboy hat, denim shirt, and stiff blue jeans. Like our late friend Val from Tucson. Today, such people look strange and out of place. Modern America is the land of the unfit.