Oh, Pioneer!
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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    Come my tan-faced children,

    Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
    Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes?
    Pioneers! O pioneers!

    For we cannot tarry here,
    We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
    We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
    Pioneers! O pioneers!

    O you youths, Western youths,
    So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
    Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
    Pioneers! O pioneers!

    Have the elder races halted?
    Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
    We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
    Pioneers! O pioneers!

    —Excerpt from O, Pioneers! by Walt Whitman

    This blog was started as a way to collect pictures, music, and videos that inspire me to wanderlust and adventure. I believe firmly in the doctrine of the strenuous life, and that to live within the bounds of comfort and ease is no life at all. I believe that our bodies and minds are capable of much more than we think, and that the generations that have come before, though meaning well, have created a society devoid of self-reliance and personal responsibility. America used to be a place where we made things. If something was broken, we knew how to fix it. At one time, we knew how to push our own limits and solve our own problems. We knew what it was like to sleep well at the end of a long day of real work, getting our hands dirty and rough from putting our fingerprints into a work of craftsmanship.

    This is an attempt to revive that spirit. To kindle the fire we once carried in our chest and behind our eyes, the vision for a new world, bold world, fresh and varied. Inside each of us is a fire that burns for the wild things, for untouched mountains, for unseen waters. Inside each of us is the desire to feel the grain of fresh wood between our fingers, to smell the petrichor of wet earth, to know the sounds of the birds singing by name, to taste the fruit of our own labor.

    This volume is dedicated to that spirit;
    This volume is dedicated in all sincerity to every lover of the true and beautiful.