Nimrod - Shackleton's Shack PM
“The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried; You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide; And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan, Yet you look aslant at the Lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on. And somehow you’re sick of the highway, with its noise and its easy needs, And you long for the risk of the by-way, and you reck not where it leads. And sometimes it leads to an Arctic-trail, where the snows where your torn feet freeze, and you whittle away the useless clay, and crawl on your hands and knees. Sometimes it leads to the dead-pit; always it leads to pain; By the bones of your brothers ye know it, but oh, to follow you’re fain. By your bones they will follow behind you, till the ways of the world are made plain.”
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