Sky's Witness: A Year in the Wind River Range

The books you have read in your life likely fall into one of several classes ranging from extremely poor to unsurpassed worth. On that worthy end of the spectrum, there have probably been those books that caused a pause in you upon reading the final sentence; a pause followed by a nod of thanks to the author for having given you so much pleasure. And then there are those even more rare instances where you reach that final page and feel that sense of want for more. Its a mixed feeling of love for what you have just read combined with the emptiness that follows upon closing the pages for that final time. It is as if you have lost a friend. Rawlins hit that chord in me with Sky's Witness. The Wind River Range is probably my most favorite place to wander, and I was led to this book after searching for all I could find written about it. But one does not have to go to The Winds or appreciate their grandeur in order to be captivated by the author's writing style here. His ability to describe thoughts and places and to reflect on their nature is almost a gift of magic. He covers a lot of territory, both physical and emotional over the course of a year. It has been about five years since I read it, and I still miss the times it gave to me. If I were to have any reservations it its regard, it would only be the put-offish nature that his personality occasionally evokes in his writing and some of the personal encounters that he describes. Put simply, he is certainly not one to be with when he is in a foul mood. But in praise, this again also speaks to his ability to convey all those elemental spokes of our humanity. If you are one who loves the outdoors, this book will go a long way for you. But even if you are not inclined to the rugged nature of the backcountry, this book will still bring rewarding moments to you during that time spent in that soft leather chair.

I own six copies of this book (four are loaners). My life revolves around literature, and this is one of the best books I've read. It's definitely my favorite. Rawlins uses relatively simple language with a powerful, poetic effect. If you have any kind of interest in the environment, backcountry travel, or the mountains--and even if you don't--read this book. Rawlins' writing is beautiful and intense; overall, I think the writing carries more impact than even authors such as Ed Abbey or Aldo Leopold. Phrases such as "The cabin is a frozen skull" jump out, as do passages such as this: "At first you're a stranger to the forest. It's too quiet. You feel as if your every move is seen and judged. Then, without noticing a difference, you feel more at home here than anywhere else. It's as if your heart skips a beat and then begins on an older pulse." If you're not an environmentalist when you start the book, you might begin seeing things in a new light. If you were already concerned about the human impact on the world before you started it, you'll feel it more deeply. Richard Nelson, author and Burroughs Medal winner, might have said it best in his review of "Sky's Witness:" "A very fine writer...as lavish and varied as a jazz musician--lively, funny, sometimes outrageous; poignant, tender, engaging; richly informative; and deeply poetic. Filled with the joys of working on the land, Rawlins documents the subtle wounding of America's remotest wildlands, where rain and snow are tainted by the breath of distant cities."

Anyone willing to endure the physical hardship involved in self-supported mountain travel will appreciate Rawlin's extrordinarilly beautiful soliloquies on the mountain wilderness experience. Example: "But it wasn't the smell of the air that played in me so much as the light. The moon and sun lay opposite each other in the sky, exchanging their gleams, and the country was laid out below all rough and golden. The ridge was a strong point, the hardest rock in the range. On it you could meet the wind, face it, draw it in and breathe it out. And I felt a desire with no object or reason, except the land and the wild light."Clearly Rawlin's regards the essence of the mountain wilderness and the essence of himself as one. He writes of the experience of being alone in a small raft on a clear summer night on a high altitude lake in the Wind River Range. "I've touched this water, tasted it. I've caught and eaten its trout, scooped it into pots for coffee, mixed it with my blood, taught it to walk and tell lies, and pissed it back steaming onto the ground. The lake and I have more than a casual acquaintance, yet in the dark, it seems not to know me. I can't see my reflection. The water that has claimed a part of my life now holds me in a star-flecked indifference."I believe that all mountain travelers grapple with words to express their most intimate feelings about their mountain experiences. Rawlins gives these experiences expression with the skill of a violin virtuoso who is able to prolong the playing of a single note with haunting clarity and seemingly project it into eternity. So also does Rawlins project his love of the Wind River Range to a spiritual level. The drawings of Hannah Hinchman are exquisite!

If you want to hike, back pack, and live in the Wyoming Wind River Mountains for one year, C. L. Rawlins will take you there in these 300 pages. You will not find a better companion: his writings proceed in a rythmn -- moving from intricate description of rock, snow, and lake, to insightful and stunning explanations of nature itself, followed perhaps by a down-to-earth philosophical reminder. His humor catches one off gaurd and he tests more than a few other emotions. I returned from a four-day back pack trip in the Wyoming Wind River Mountains August 1996. Several days thereafter, by happenstance I noticed this book. In the early pages, Rawlins and his companion, John are skiing with fully loaded packs on the exact trail. up the Big Sandy Opennings, that I traversed. This book was an extra treat for me. Rawlins loves to walk and hike. He writes: "Walking feels good. It helps me think. The Grail, Mecca, Lourdes, the Frontier, Everest -- all are simply good excuses for going." C.L. Rawlins might be considered the "Annie Dillard of the Wind Rivers." When enthralled with a certain spot in his mountains, Rawlins writes, "Words make no sense at all. Being here does." He is humble. His words do make undeniable sense.