William L. Sullivan, Listening for Coyote: A Walk Across Oregon's Wilderness

This is not the kind of book I typically read, but I read the first 60 pages of a copy that my brother got for Christmas and was hooked. I bought a used copy for myself. As the title indicates, this is a book about the author's hike through almost 1400 miles of wilderness areas in Oregon, starting on the southern Oregon coast and ending in Hell's Canyon on the Idaho border. Sullivan is an engaging writer, and the book is full of his observations on geology, geography, botany, zoology, ecology, history, and culture. He brings a sense of wonder to his writing that's very fetching.

If there's a weakness, it may be that his attempts to wrestle with the meaning of wilderness are at times a bit forced, but the central metaphor -- also signaled in the title -- of the wilderness as a kind of trickster, like Coyote, is pretty powerful. For Sullivan the wilderness is that which we don't control, and he finds a compelling mystery in this -- a sense that the world is greater than humanity and is full of beautiful and fearful surprises. The one point where I actively disagreed with his perspective was at the very conclusion, where he seems to argue that individual acts of mindfulness such as dedication to recycling and to using cars as little as possible are the best we can do to preserve the environment. To my mind the environment is an issue that can only be addressed by the community, by institutions, by industry. It is a political problem -- a problem for the polis -- and thus it's appropriate that the book ends with the author on a bus pulling into Portland, the biggest metropolis in the state.

Meanwhile, I was utterly enthralled by the travelogue. I love the different landscapes of Oregon, and Sullivan's travels (ho ho) cover a wide variety of them. If you are interested in Oregon, I highly recommend this intimate portrait. Along with all the knowledge he brings about the things he sees, the account is also fascinating for the different people he encounters in the wild, from an Earth First environmental activist (the hike took place in the mid-'80s) to a guy growing pot in the Siskiyous to a small-town jewelry store owner who is trying to develop a trail in the Blue Mountains. A lot of the hike takes place in various mountain ranges -- the Siskiyous, the Cascades, the Ochocos, the Blues. The way Sullivan ties stories to the landscape is fascinating, and the final tale of Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce's famous retreat from Oregon and final defeat at the hands of the US Army as they tried to escape to Canada is utterly heartbreaking. Then again, his brief explanation of why neither the Siskiyous nor the Klamaths is an appropriate name for the mountains along the California border is pretty damned funny.

The Oregon State University Press website has details about this edition of the book.

Image of the NIght

They Drive by Night (1940)

"The doors made me do it! Ahahahahahahaha! The doors made me do it!"