I once found myself to be intrigued by one of these creatures. Maybe I found him attractive because I missed the West, and he seemed to be almost its symbol: wild, rugged, adventurous, and full of possibilities.
I am not the only one who has fallen prey to such a man. Other friends have become smitten with these men, sometimes for months, sometimes for years, only to be left for adventures that were seen as somehow greater, somehow more pressing, than any other possible commitment. One man just had to work at a ski lodge for a couple months. Another wants to boat down the Amazon river. But these aren't always just short vacations, and they don't include others. These excursions are usually solo, long, and often dangerous.
And I often find myself sympathizing with the mountain man. I too am constantly looking for a new adventure, and I find myself longing for places that are far from civilization. I understand the crazed need to be in the West. I want to climb mountains, hike past clear streams, run across miles of open farmland. But I don't want to do it all alone.
I want to wake up, drink coffee, and share the paper with someone else. I want to reach the summit of a mountain and look at another person so that we can share the same moment of exhausted satisfaction. I want to wake up in 10 years and feel that I've built something special. I want to commit to more than just the land.
Here are some signs you might be interested in a mountain man:
- He constantly talks about his next big adventure - alone.
- He knows how to hunt, fish, and live completely off the land.
- He thinks that living alone in a small cabin in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness for a year sounds like a dream come true.
- He makes no commitments to people, only to places.
- He makes the following comment about the main character in Into the Wild: "That book could be about me".

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