On The Trail—with Edward Abbey, John Muir, and Colin Fletcher

Long before I ever published a book, I walked alone through the desert with a dog-eared copy of Desert Solitaire in my backpack. Edward Abbey was my introduction to rebellion in its rawest form—not through politics or protest signs, but through silence, solitude, and the fierce love of land. He taught me that resistance doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes, it looks like a single human being refusing to look away.

Then came John Muir. Reading Muir was like listening to the voice of the mountains themselves—ancient, reverent, crystalline. He wrote as if the wind whispered through his pen, and I’ve spent years trying to listen that closely. Not to copy his words, but to embody his awe. He reminded me that the natural world isn’t something to conquer or escape to—it’s home.

And Colin Fletcher—ever the pragmatic poet. He walked deliberately, with a kind of grounded magic. His books didn’t just romanticize wilderness—they mapped it. He made the wild feel both sacred and accessible. His words taught me to pay attention to the small things: the way a boot settles into sand, the slow boil of morning coffee on a whispering stove, the miracle of moving through a landscape one step at a time.

These men didn’t just influence my writing. They shaped the way I see the world.

When I write, I carry them with me—not as idols, but as trail markers.

I write because Abbey made me question everything.
Because Muir made me fall in love.
Because Fletcher made it all feel possible.

And I write because I hope—just maybe—that my words will do the same for someone else.

Not to lead them anywhere in particular. But to remind them that it’s okay to wander. That the most important journeys rarely follow a map. That sometimes the truest way to find yourself is to disappear into the trees for a while and stop trying so damn hard to figure it all out.

The trail is there. The silence is waiting. The story is already unfolding.

All you have to do is listen.

If these words speak to something in you, and you’d like to support my work, the best way is by picking up one of my books. They’re written for wanderers, for quiet souls, for anyone longing to reconnect with the wild world—and with themselves.

📚 Get My Books Here: scottstillmanblog.com

Thanks for walking this path with me. It means more than you know.