Sky's Witness

the long version

Thoreau joked that he was a "self-appointed inspector of snowstorms and rainstorms," never dreaming that such a need might exist. But such is the author's work and that of his various helpers, from ski bums to shortstops. They travel the alpine wilderness at all seasons by touring skis, snowshoes, pack llamas, float-tubes, and a tiny but dependable raft. The remote mountain beauty, "where thoughts stretch for miles and days," would be enough, but C.L. Rawlins is after. Something more. He's a backcountry hydrologist, collecting rain, snow, and the water of high lakes to measure air pollution. Alongside the author we discover the natural history of the central Rockies, the flowering of plants, and the ways of mountain animals. We learn how the Shoshoni lived in this harsh country before the arrival of settlers. We see also the effect of twentieth-century living on a wilderness that feels pristine but bears the chemical trace of distant. Smokestacks and freeways. With a style that roams between natural observation and personal essay, Rawlins gives access not only to the wilderness but to the ways in which we know ourselves.