Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Caving. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Caving Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Mary Oliver,M.m. Kaye,Corey Taylor,Robert Plant,Oscar Wilde for you to enjoy and share.
I climb, I backtrack. I float. I ramble my way home.
What could be more entrancing than a carefree nomadic existence camping, moving, exploring strange places and the ruins of forgotten empires, sleeping under canvas or the open sky, and giving no thought to the conventions and restriction of the modern world?
It was always a thrill for me, getting out of the cocoon and wandering. I'd let the wind wrap around me like fire and slip into the unknown with a moment's hesitation.
To rock isn't necessarily to cavort.
Foxhunting ... the unspeakable pursuing the inedible.
of grass, watching the
Running like a bunny with his tail on fire.
Everywhere you look, the ground is already camped on. So you sigh and pitch your tent where you can, knowing someone else has been there before.
This thing of venturing out on the ocean where you don't see land.
Wilderness begins in the human mind.
The exciting isolation of leaning against the wind on the highway hitchhiking, waiting for someone to stop and offer me a lift, perhaps to a town three miles down the road, perhaps to new friendship, perhaps to death.
Towards evening, they wound down precipices, black with forest of cypress, pine and cedar, into a glen so savage and secluded, that, if Solicitude ever had local habitation, this might have been "her place of dearest residence
The emigrant's way o'er the western desert is mark'd by
Camp-fires long consum'd and bones that bleach in the sunshine.
Ducking, weaving, bouncing away from the knockout blow which must inevitably come.
When I'm anchoring, I miss chasing stories in the field.
Running down a dream ... working on a mystery ... going wherever it leads ...
When a great adventure is launched with a powerful thrust, fatigue in the muscles and doubts in the mind are swept away by a fullness that moves life along like a breath from the depths of the soul.
Hiking is sort of like strip poker: by the end, all the participants are hot, sweaty, and nearly naked, and the winner is the person who wore the most layers.
Longing for the mountains
Hurrying, dragging, falling, crying, calling out names hopefully and hopelessly.
When you jump across a canyon, cautious small steps and vacillation won't work. Sometimes you just have to go for it.
Men seek out retreats for themselves in the country, by the seaside, on the moutains ... But all this is unphilosophical to the last degree ... when thou canst at a moment's notice retire into thyself.
A dangerous crossing, a dangerous wayfaring, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting.
What the fuck are cavemen doing here?
watching the flames twist in the wind.
We find in biking the fullfilment of an antique instinct: vagabondage
When the morning's freshness has been replaced by the weariness of midday, when the leg muscles give under the strain, the climb seems endless, and suddenly nothing will go quite as you wish it is then that you must not hesitate.
Roaming is the easiest part, just wandering around, looking the places, imagining how people lived there at that time, breathing deeply the open air around there and feeling the best.
Hide-and-seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found.
Exploring is delightful to look forward to and back upon, but it is not comfortable at the time, unless it be of such an easy nature as not to deserve the name.
Escape from goblins to be caught by wolves.
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, a day's march nearer home.
Castles in the air - they are so easy to take refuge in. And so easy to build too.
The progress of the Way seems retreating.
Anna had read books about people in the cities going camping. They would leave their comfortable homes and beds and deliberately sleep in tents, on the ground, then cook their food outside over an open fire instead of in a well-stocked kitchen. She couldn't imagine something so ridiculous.
I cruise the canyon to get some breeze With Hidden Treasures up my sleeve I like the light and hate the heat But I'll lick the blood right off your street
around, hiding for hours in dark shadows until the target comes
One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.
Walking a trail frees my mind to wander....
Along with rock climbing, I hike and I like to go to the beach, anything outdoors and anything that takes me out of the everyday.
Paddling a canoe is a source of enrichment and inner renewal.
Be the kind of person that sees an obstacle as a Mountain, and throws on their hiking gear
Camping is something I've done all my life.
A lot of us would like to move mountains, but few of us are willing to practice on small hills.
Wilderness areas worth everyone's footsteps
attempt to escape,
Voyaging great distances
through forests, from island to island, across plains and into the mountains
is all about finding ourselves.
...the pleasure of finally making a clean break into misery after always dangling above it's canyon...
When you gentlemen come to stand at the Boundary between the Settl'd and the Unpossess'd, just about to enter the Deep Woods, you will recognize the Sensation ...
away from the ocean, heading toward the
Voyaging begins when one burns one's boats, adventures begin with a shipwreck.
It's easy to roam if you have an anchor. - Clive Hollowel
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Confuse your trail, lose your trail.
It's summer and time for wandering...
I don't know why I just remembered this, and I haven't told anybody this, but we were shooting in Canyon de Chelly and we were so far up the canyon. Once we were up there, we were up there. There was no going back to your trailers.
Basking in the light and glory that comes with not giving a damn.
If you don't know where you're going, stop racing to get there.
from Just Desert by M. T. Anderson
A 10.7-mile bike ride past bogs, beaches
Going to the mountains is going home.
Hiking a ridge, a meadow, or a river bottom, is as healthy a form of exercise as one can get. Hiking seems to put all the body cells back into rhythm. Ten to twenty miles on a trail puts one to bed with his cares unraveled.
Going into the woods, you can go as fast or as slow as you want. It's restorative. Even when I was young, the wilderness offered not only adventure but also therapy and peace: a place to be alone with your thoughts.
On the mountains mistakes are fatal. In politics, mistakes are wounding emotionally, but you recover. Personally, wilderness helps me get back in touch with natural rhythms, helps me reflect and, in the process, restore my creativity.
Cowboys, aliens, hit men, and now a canyon full of survivalists. Young stared down into the chasm and the flurry of movement their approach was causing and shook his head in disbelief. How was this his life?
I usually find myself hiking in a place that not a lot of people go hiking, just trying to find some solitude. I like being out in the middle of nowhere. Not always, but it's a good place to go to just reflect and think, and it's something I really enjoy.
In the hurtling pronghorn, the vanished predators have left behind a heartrending spectacle. Through the smoking displays of wild abandon runs a desperate spirit, resigned to racing pickup trucks in its eternal longing for cheetahs.
For the climber averse to avoidable acrobatics a given niche may lie so many paces or meters to east or west of the woman vanquished without of course his naming her thus or otherwise even in his thoughts.
...we're not even really hiking,
more like meandering in cinematic light.
Floating high on the waters of catastrophe
Hurry n: The dispatch of bunglers.
canyons like a chorus of zombies. I mentioned this to Blitzen, but he set me straight.
Seeking refuge from a world in which huge and mysterious forces were let loose to destruction.
puny adventurers bent on colossal adventure, pitting
Whether it's exploring the woods around where I grew up, or even today exploring the coastal habitats and environments where I live in New England, or in a remote wilderness we're featuring in one of my series - I love to be in the field and I love to explore.
When you don't know where your headed you find places no one else would ever think to explore
We was doing a lot of what our officers called "maneuvering" - which is officer talk for running
How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?
I have lived ten years of wild rovings, of conquests and discoveries, in those woods; the day when I have to leave them my heart will be very heavy.
Exit, pursued by a bear.
Canoe plus waterfall equals I don't go camping anymore.
Mountaineering is a relentless pursuit. One climbs further and further yet never reaches the destination. Perhaps that is what gives it its own particular charm. One is constantly searching for something never to be found.
Jet ski and wild noises.
Living submerged at the bottom of an ocean of air.
Cherish your wilderness.
[W]alking sometimes in a perfectly desolate plain where there have been no houses nor trees to guide me, I have been occasionally compelled to remain stationary for hours together, waiting till the rain came before continuing my journey.
On either side the fields were beneficently tranquil; the space through which the cavalcade moved was high and limitless. In the country there was less noise as though they were all listening atavistically for wolves in the wide snow.
The fight for free space-for wilderness and for public space-must be accompanied by a fight for free time to spend wandering in that space. Otherwise the individual imagination will be bulldozed over for the chain-store outlets of consumer appetite, true-crime titillations, and celebrity crises.
For my final project I will be disappearing into the mountains.
Life in the open is one of my finest rewards. I enjoy and become completely immersed in the high challenge and increased opportunity to become for a time, a part of nature. Deer hunting is a classical exercise in freedom. It is a return to fundamentals that I instinctively feel are basic and right.
The world's finest wilderness lies beneath the waves ...
How often have I painted a splendid picture of a journey marked by courageous ascents and daring desert crossings when all along all I've really been doing is running?
When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.
Climbing mattered. The danger bathed the world in a halogen glow that caused everything - the sweep of the rock, the orange and yellow lichens, the texture of the clouds - to stand out in brilliant relief. Life thrummed at a higher pitch. The world was made real.
Survival Movement in Hostile Areas," most of which he could have quoted verbatim if somebody asked him, but really all you had to know was the acronym BLISS: B - Blends in with the surroundings L - Low in silhouette I - Irregular in shape S - Small in size S - Secluded
In all my wild mountaineering, I have enjoyed only one avalanche ride; and the start was so sudden, and the end came so soon, I thought but little of the danger that goes with this sort of travel, though one thinks fast at such times.
Near the foot of the mountain we visited a yogi who dwelled in a hollow tunneled beneath a boulder. He pondered our notion of climbing Shivling and said: 'First travel, then struggle, finally calm'.
If you drive to, say, Shenandoah National Park, or the Great Smoky Mountains, you'll get some appreciation for the scale and beauty of the outdoors. When you walk into it, then you see it in a completely different way. You discover it in a much slower, more majestic sort of way.
I'm used to hitch-hiking.
Wilderness, wilderness ... We scarcely know what we mean by the term, though the sound of it draws all whose nerves and emotions have not been irreparably stunned, deadened, numbed by the caterwauling of commerce, the sweating scramble for profit and domination.
A journey into the wilderness is the freest, cheapest, most nonprivileged of pleasures. Anyone with two legs and the price of a pair of army surplus combat boots may enter.