Checking billy barr’s snow log…
176 Western American Literature the book would serve to introduce a range of college subjects, from bio-science and environmental studies to history and literature. And as Botkin leads us along the route of “Am erica’s national epic of exploration,” he also charts the way to a developed ecological wisdom: Not only is the classic balance of nature a false solution to environ mental problems but it alienates human beings from their surround ings. If everything we do must be wrong for nature by definition, then we have no place in nature. A false dualism is set up, one that is both untrue and psychologically uncomfortable. Nature is never constant. The book doesn’t just argue the importance of ecological thinking. It clearly demonstrates the process, in the rich and specific context of history and landscape. C. L. RAWLINS Boulder, Wyoming The Hookmen. By Timothy Hillmer. (Niwot: University Press of Colorado, 1994. 244 pages, $19.95.) My copy of The Hookmen survived a dunking in the M ethow River after a lateral wave caught my canoeing partner and me offguard. The book is pretty w ell beat up, as are most of the characters who take on the rapids of the Kern River in Timothy H illm er’s first novel. As indicated by the sign that records the number of drowning deaths in the Kern, this is no river to take lightly, as row ing apprentice Cruz, his mentor Crawdad, and a disaffected Vietnam vet named Walker know all too w ell after fishing out bodies (hence the title) on Forest Service search and rescue m issions. Given the abundance of unusual characters who have been drawn to w est ern rivers over the years and the many harrowing tales they have left in their wake, one wonders why whitewater travel has gone largely unexplored in con temporary western fiction. H illm er’s com ing-of-age tale does a good job of filling in a relatively empty niche. He weaves an engaging plot around various whitewater adventures and misadventures, culminating in a crisis on the Upper Kern. His characters, for the most part, are worth traveling the river with, even his Vietnam vet who is quick enough and quirky enough to evade the “suckhole ” of cliché. Action scenes are vivid enough to remind an aging guide of that first river season. As good as so many of H illm er’s descriptions are, I can’t help but wonder why he overlooked dead wood sim iles and metaphors that were obstacle enough to bring the current of his story to a halt: an oar juts up out of the water like “a miraculous golden sta ff’; a raft “peels upward like a Reviews 111 dagger pointing at the sky.” Still, it’s good to remember the old river maxim when considering these relatively minor flaws: “There are two kinds of paddlers: those who have dumped and those who are going to.” Hookmen is a good ride. PETER ANDERSON Salt Lake City, Utah Into Thin Air. By Thomas Zigal. (New York: Delacorte Press, 1995. 259 pages, $19.95.) Set in that magical kingdom in the Rockies of Aspen, Colorado, Thomas Z igal’s Into Thin A ir is a pretty decent first mystery novel. Local boy Kurt Muller is an army veteran, ex-hippie, and nineties nice guy with a young son named Lennon (after John). Muller is also the Pitkin County sheriff, and glamour -gulch Aspen is the county seat. C hief deputy Muffin Brown jokes that Kurt is a confused victim of his hor mones: he’s a soft touch for women with sad tales. The sheriff’s also nearly blind to a myriad of minor vices as practiced by the Aspen rich. Muller isn ’t soft on murder, though. Visiting Argentine journalist and leftist good-guy Omar Quiroga is snuffed and his body dumped in the Roaring Fork River. Enter the FBI in the person of agent Neal Staggs. Bearded M uller and short-haired Staggs don’t get along. Staggs claim s M uller’s actually an Aspen drug kingpin; M uller swears that the Bureau has its dirty fingers into everything, i...
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