This week I re-read John Muir's Wilderness Essays, a book I've had for many years and often re-read. If you can't get on a trail, this might be the next best thing. Muir had a way with words. Here's a link to the book on amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mountaineerin.../dp/0874805449
Muir was kind of crazy in the level of risk he took on. My favorite essay is his account of ascending Mt. Ritter in October 1872. Chilling excerpt from "A Near View of the High Sierra":
"At length, after attaining an elevation of about 12,800 feet, I found myself at the foot of a sheer drop in the bed of the avalanche channel I was tracing, which seemed absolutely to bar further progress. It was only about forty-five or fifty feet high, and somewhat roughened by fissures and projections; but these seemed so slight and insecure, as footholds, that I tried hard to avoid the precipice altogether, by scaling the wall of the channel on either side. But, though less steep, the walls were smoother than the obstructing rock, and repeated efforts only showed that I must either go right ahead or turn back.
The tried dangers beneath seemed even greater than that of the cliff in front; therefore, after scanning its face again and again, I began to scale it, picking my holds with intense caution. After gaining a point about halfway to the top, I was suddenly brought to a dead stop, with arms outspread, clinging close to the face of the rock, unable to move hand or foot either up or down. My doom appeared fixed. I must fall. There would be a moment of bewilderment, and then a lifeless rumble down the one general precipice to the glacier below."