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Letters From Alaska
During the years 1879 and 1880 John Muir traveled the waters of southeastern Alaska in a Tlingit Indian dugout canoe. Letters from Alaska follows Muir on these voyages in a series of articles he wrote for the San Francisco Daily Evening Bulletin . These “letters” are collected and republished here for the first time in more than a century, accompanied by an introduction and notes by Robert Engberg and Bruce Merrell.
Muir revised his Alaskan writings many times before they eventually appeared in his book, Travels in Alaska , published after his death in 1914. In Letters from Alaska we find the original versions of the letters, each reworked from journal accounts jotted down during his travels. They have the freshness, immediacy, and candor that mark Muir’s best writing.
In these pages are rare accounts of southeastern Alaskan history. Muir records his scientific observations of glaciers and vividly describes Alaska in its early days. Through Muir’s eyes we see gold miners, rogue towns, Fort Wrangel, Sitka, Taku Inlet, Endicott Arm, Glacier Bay, the infancy of the tourist industry, and the native Tlingit Indians’ struggle to retain their culture in the face of Presbyterian attempts to convert them.
Muir’s century-old accounts can be used as a guide for modern ship-borne tourists following the sea routes of his canoe voyages. Yet, Muir’s letters are more than simple descriptions of wilderness. With every stroke of paddle and pen Muir was spreading his glacial that wilderness adventures ultimately provide for journeys of the spirit. He loved the Alaskan wilderness as a place in which it was still possible to be wild. He urged Americans to journey north. “Go,” he said, “go and see. . . . ”
Muir revised his Alaskan writings many times before they eventually appeared in his book, Travels in Alaska , published after his death in 1914. In Letters from Alaska we find the original versions of the letters, each reworked from journal accounts jotted down during his travels. They have the freshness, immediacy, and candor that mark Muir’s best writing.
In these pages are rare accounts of southeastern Alaskan history. Muir records his scientific observations of glaciers and vividly describes Alaska in its early days. Through Muir’s eyes we see gold miners, rogue towns, Fort Wrangel, Sitka, Taku Inlet, Endicott Arm, Glacier Bay, the infancy of the tourist industry, and the native Tlingit Indians’ struggle to retain their culture in the face of Presbyterian attempts to convert them.
Muir’s century-old accounts can be used as a guide for modern ship-borne tourists following the sea routes of his canoe voyages. Yet, Muir’s letters are more than simple descriptions of wilderness. With every stroke of paddle and pen Muir was spreading his glacial that wilderness adventures ultimately provide for journeys of the spirit. He loved the Alaskan wilderness as a place in which it was still possible to be wild. He urged Americans to journey north. “Go,” he said, “go and see. . . . ”
- GenresTravel
148 pages, Paperback
First published October 15, 1993
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About the author
John Muir
623 books1,431 followersJohn Muir was far more than a naturalist; he was a secular prophet who translated the rugged language of the wilderness into a spiritual calling that saved the American soul from total surrender to materialism. Born in 1838 in the coastal town of Dunbar, Scotland, Muir’s childhood was a blend of seaside wanderings and a brutal religious upbringing. His father, Daniel Muir, was a man of uncompromising faith who forced John to memorize the New Testament and most of the Old Testament by age eleven. When the family immigrated to the frontier of Wisconsin in 1849, this iron-fisted discipline continued on their farm. However, for the young Muir, the "Book of Nature" began to rival the Bible. He saw the divine not just in scripture, but in the black locust trees and the sun-drenched meadows of the midwest.
The pivotal moment of Muir’s life occurred in 1867 while working at a wagon wheel factory in Indianapolis. A tool slipped, piercing his cornea and leaving him temporarily blind in both eyes. Confined to a darkened room for six weeks, Muir faced the terrifying prospect of a life without light. When his sight miraculously returned, he emerged with a clarity of purpose that would change the course of American history. He famously wrote, "This affliction has driven me to the sweet fields. God has to nearly kill us sometimes, to teach us lessons." He immediately set out on a 1,000-mile walk to the Gulf of Mexico, beginning a lifelong odyssey of exploration.
Muir eventually found his "true home" in California’s Sierra Nevada. To Muir, the mountains were not mere piles of rock, but "the range of light." He spent years as a shepherd and guide in Yosemite, living a life of extreme simplicity—often traveling with nothing but a tin cup, a crust of bread, and a volume of Emerson’s essays. His scientific contributions were equally profound; he defied the leading geologists of the day by proving that the Yosemite Valley was carved by ancient glaciers. While the state geologist, Josiah Whitney, dismissed him as a mere "shepherd," the world’s leading glaciologists eventually recognized Muir’s genius.
His transition from explorer to activist was born of necessity. Seeing the "hoofed locusts"—domestic sheep—devouring the high mountain meadows, Muir took up his pen. His landmark articles in The Century Magazine and his 1903 camping trip with President Theodore Roosevelt became the catalysts for the modern conservation movement. Under the stars at Glacier Point, Muir convinced the President that the wilderness required federal protection. This meeting laid the groundwork for the expansion of the National Park system and the eventual return of Yosemite Valley to federal control.
As the co-founder and first president of the Sierra Club, Muir spent his final years in a fierce philosophical battle with Gifford Pinchot. While Pinchot argued for "conservation" (the sustainable use of resources), Muir championed "preservation" (the protection of nature for its own sake). Though he lost the battle to save the Hetch Hetchy Valley from being dammed, the heartbreak of that loss galvanized the American public, ensuring that future "cathedrals of nature" would remain inviolate. John Muir died in 1914, but his voice remains ubiquitous, reminding us that "into the woods we go, to lose our minds and find our souls."
The pivotal moment of Muir’s life occurred in 1867 while working at a wagon wheel factory in Indianapolis. A tool slipped, piercing his cornea and leaving him temporarily blind in both eyes. Confined to a darkened room for six weeks, Muir faced the terrifying prospect of a life without light. When his sight miraculously returned, he emerged with a clarity of purpose that would change the course of American history. He famously wrote, "This affliction has driven me to the sweet fields. God has to nearly kill us sometimes, to teach us lessons." He immediately set out on a 1,000-mile walk to the Gulf of Mexico, beginning a lifelong odyssey of exploration.
Muir eventually found his "true home" in California’s Sierra Nevada. To Muir, the mountains were not mere piles of rock, but "the range of light." He spent years as a shepherd and guide in Yosemite, living a life of extreme simplicity—often traveling with nothing but a tin cup, a crust of bread, and a volume of Emerson’s essays. His scientific contributions were equally profound; he defied the leading geologists of the day by proving that the Yosemite Valley was carved by ancient glaciers. While the state geologist, Josiah Whitney, dismissed him as a mere "shepherd," the world’s leading glaciologists eventually recognized Muir’s genius.
His transition from explorer to activist was born of necessity. Seeing the "hoofed locusts"—domestic sheep—devouring the high mountain meadows, Muir took up his pen. His landmark articles in The Century Magazine and his 1903 camping trip with President Theodore Roosevelt became the catalysts for the modern conservation movement. Under the stars at Glacier Point, Muir convinced the President that the wilderness required federal protection. This meeting laid the groundwork for the expansion of the National Park system and the eventual return of Yosemite Valley to federal control.
As the co-founder and first president of the Sierra Club, Muir spent his final years in a fierce philosophical battle with Gifford Pinchot. While Pinchot argued for "conservation" (the sustainable use of resources), Muir championed "preservation" (the protection of nature for its own sake). Though he lost the battle to save the Hetch Hetchy Valley from being dammed, the heartbreak of that loss galvanized the American public, ensuring that future "cathedrals of nature" would remain inviolate. John Muir died in 1914, but his voice remains ubiquitous, reminding us that "into the woods we go, to lose our minds and find our souls."
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 29, 2018
"The careful commercial lives we lead hold our eyes away from the operations of God as a workman. Yet they are openly carried on from day to day through unmeasured geological seasons, and all who will look may see." This book includes selected, footnoted versions of articles written by John Muir for a newspaper as he traveled around Alaska. He and his friend Young were among the first whites to see Glacier Bay and other inlets in southeastern Alaska. Having been to some of the same areas, and having an interest in learning about Muir's life, I really enjoyed this book. (Although we saw some of the same glaciers, many have receded over 20 MILES in the 140 years between our visits.) I'm very grateful for Muir because he had a huge hand in preserving the National Parks that are, in my opinion, the best places in America.
This book really proves that a picture is worth a thousand words. He tries to describe what he's seeing, and while he's a good writer and sketcher, it just makes me want to google a picture of x glacier or x bay. It was also interesting to hear his opinions on missionary work, Indian culture, and gold mining. I'm surprised that he had such an encouraging view of gold mining, and ice mining as well. It seems so odd that he would be fine with people cutting down the glaciers he loved.
"How strange seem these untamed solitudes of the wild free bosom of the Alaska woods. Nevertheless they are found necessarily and eternally familiar. Go where we will, all over the world, we seem to have been there before."
"So abundant and novel are the objects of interest hereabout that unless you are pursuing special studies it matters but little where you go, or how often to the same place." After visiting Glacier Bay or Denali NP, anyone would understand and agree with this!
"And I'm not away at all, you know, for only they who do not love may ever be apart." Muir to his wife, who he left for Alaska the day after he proposed
The indians didn't understand why and didn't believe that Muir was not interested in gold mining like other whites. "The Indians....remembered, however, that I had visited their ice-mountains, as they call the glaciers, at Cross Sound a year ago, and seemed to think there might be, after all, some mysterious medicine interest in them of which they were ignorant."
"Altogether, there is nothing in the far-famed Yosemite Valley that will compare with it in impressive, awe-inspiring grandeur." Agreed, nowhere else in the US is like Alaska.
This book really proves that a picture is worth a thousand words. He tries to describe what he's seeing, and while he's a good writer and sketcher, it just makes me want to google a picture of x glacier or x bay. It was also interesting to hear his opinions on missionary work, Indian culture, and gold mining. I'm surprised that he had such an encouraging view of gold mining, and ice mining as well. It seems so odd that he would be fine with people cutting down the glaciers he loved.
"How strange seem these untamed solitudes of the wild free bosom of the Alaska woods. Nevertheless they are found necessarily and eternally familiar. Go where we will, all over the world, we seem to have been there before."
"So abundant and novel are the objects of interest hereabout that unless you are pursuing special studies it matters but little where you go, or how often to the same place." After visiting Glacier Bay or Denali NP, anyone would understand and agree with this!
"And I'm not away at all, you know, for only they who do not love may ever be apart." Muir to his wife, who he left for Alaska the day after he proposed
The indians didn't understand why and didn't believe that Muir was not interested in gold mining like other whites. "The Indians....remembered, however, that I had visited their ice-mountains, as they call the glaciers, at Cross Sound a year ago, and seemed to think there might be, after all, some mysterious medicine interest in them of which they were ignorant."
"Altogether, there is nothing in the far-famed Yosemite Valley that will compare with it in impressive, awe-inspiring grandeur." Agreed, nowhere else in the US is like Alaska.
August 3, 2018
John Muir is probably best known for his exploration of the Yosemite area in California and has become somewhat of an icon: no other place name is more used in California than "Muir." Coffee table books and calendars still come out regularly featuring his quotes about the great outdoors. All this fame embarrassed and angered Muir himself, who preferred a lower profile. After much of his California exploration, he ventured up to explore Alaska in 1879 and 1880, not long after the US purchased the land in 1867. This book is a series of letters and brief articles he wrote about the sights he saw.
The southeastern part of Alaska, which is the part I've seen on an Alaskan cruise I took a few years ago, is the area Muir visited in his travels.
"There is something timeless in his message that the earth should be viewed with a passionate amazement" -- that phrase in the intro stopped me, as "passionate amazement" is just the phrase I'd use to describe my wonder at the marvels of nature. It's a bit difficult to read a book that is basically description of natural scenes. It's so much easier (and often more pleasant) to see a picture instead. But as I read, I couldn't help but soak in just how much Muir loved the natural world. Several chapters dealt with glaciers, and Muir's amazement at them.
Muir also visited the temperate rain forests of Alaska. It really surprised me to see this type of environment in Alaska -- isn't it the land of icebergs and polar bears? Not entirely! "... it is here only a step from the marine algae to terrestrial vegetation of almost tropical luxuriance."
We saw lots of salmon berries when we visited. Muir mentions them as well. He also mentions many of the native people of Alaska, who he used often as guides in his explorations. He sees and sketches many totem poles they made that he saw. We saw many of these too!
"Here, too, one easily learns that the world, though made, is yet being made. That this is still the morning of creation. That mountains, long conceived, are now being born, brought to light by the glaciers, channels traced for rivers, basins hollowed for lakes ... we snatched a few flowers from a warm spot on the edge of the ice, plashed across the moraine streams without Indian ferry, and were paddled aboard, rejoicing in the possession of so blessed a day, and feeling that in very foundational truth we had been to church and had seen God."
I found this a really interesting read. If you've been to Alaska, I think you'd enjoy it too. It would make a nice companion book to take along if you go on an Alaska cruise.
The southeastern part of Alaska, which is the part I've seen on an Alaskan cruise I took a few years ago, is the area Muir visited in his travels.
"There is something timeless in his message that the earth should be viewed with a passionate amazement" -- that phrase in the intro stopped me, as "passionate amazement" is just the phrase I'd use to describe my wonder at the marvels of nature. It's a bit difficult to read a book that is basically description of natural scenes. It's so much easier (and often more pleasant) to see a picture instead. But as I read, I couldn't help but soak in just how much Muir loved the natural world. Several chapters dealt with glaciers, and Muir's amazement at them.
Muir also visited the temperate rain forests of Alaska. It really surprised me to see this type of environment in Alaska -- isn't it the land of icebergs and polar bears? Not entirely! "... it is here only a step from the marine algae to terrestrial vegetation of almost tropical luxuriance."
We saw lots of salmon berries when we visited. Muir mentions them as well. He also mentions many of the native people of Alaska, who he used often as guides in his explorations. He sees and sketches many totem poles they made that he saw. We saw many of these too!
"Here, too, one easily learns that the world, though made, is yet being made. That this is still the morning of creation. That mountains, long conceived, are now being born, brought to light by the glaciers, channels traced for rivers, basins hollowed for lakes ... we snatched a few flowers from a warm spot on the edge of the ice, plashed across the moraine streams without Indian ferry, and were paddled aboard, rejoicing in the possession of so blessed a day, and feeling that in very foundational truth we had been to church and had seen God."
I found this a really interesting read. If you've been to Alaska, I think you'd enjoy it too. It would make a nice companion book to take along if you go on an Alaska cruise.
July 17, 2019
So I was fortunate enough to go on an Alaska cruise about a month ago and discovered that John Muir had done the same. And, I surmised correctly, if Muir has been anywhere, he had written about it. Searching the local bookstore in Ketchawan, Alaska, I found I was right.
Such a gorgeous bit of travel writing. As one of the initiators of the theory that the Yosemite Valley was formed by glaciers, he was eager to explore the Alaskan glaciers to prove his theory correct. So he set off for Alaska prior to the Gold Rush era, when there were few but "the divines" (AKA missionaries) and the local natives (his preferred companions) with which to explore.
Here's just a bit from his trip to Taku Inlet (or as he calls it, his perfect day).
The sunset in this glorious mountain mansion, with the weather so perfect, was intensely impressive. After the dark water of the fjord was in shadow, the level sunbeams continued to pour through the square miles of bergs with ravishing beauty, every one of them reflecting and refracting the purple light like cut crystal. Then all save the tips of the highest became dead white. These, too, were steadily quenched, the glowing points vanishing one by one like stars sinking beneath the horizon in a clear frosty night. ...
Now the last of the twilight purple has vanished, the stars begin to shine, and all trace of the day has gone. Looking across the fjord the water seems perfectly black, and the two great glaciers are seen stretching dim and ghostly back into the mountains, that now are massed in darkness against the sky.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is a writer.
Such a gorgeous bit of travel writing. As one of the initiators of the theory that the Yosemite Valley was formed by glaciers, he was eager to explore the Alaskan glaciers to prove his theory correct. So he set off for Alaska prior to the Gold Rush era, when there were few but "the divines" (AKA missionaries) and the local natives (his preferred companions) with which to explore.
Here's just a bit from his trip to Taku Inlet (or as he calls it, his perfect day).
The sunset in this glorious mountain mansion, with the weather so perfect, was intensely impressive. After the dark water of the fjord was in shadow, the level sunbeams continued to pour through the square miles of bergs with ravishing beauty, every one of them reflecting and refracting the purple light like cut crystal. Then all save the tips of the highest became dead white. These, too, were steadily quenched, the glowing points vanishing one by one like stars sinking beneath the horizon in a clear frosty night. ...
Now the last of the twilight purple has vanished, the stars begin to shine, and all trace of the day has gone. Looking across the fjord the water seems perfectly black, and the two great glaciers are seen stretching dim and ghostly back into the mountains, that now are massed in darkness against the sky.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is a writer.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews