The nine essays in Mary Beath's new book celebrate nature from the viewpoint of an "independent woman pursuing adventures that include self-exploration." An avid hiker, the artist and award-winning poet moved to New Mexico from New York almost 20 years ago. Her title piece sums up this collection's recurring theme: the risks and rewards of self-reliance in "complicated territory."
The backcountry offers
challenges, especially on the solo backpacking trips Beath loves.
When she sets off for a week in Colorado's Weminuche Wilderness
Area, with a pack as heavy as a "huge moose," the weather
deteriorates, and the trail's frightening cliffs at the aptly named
Knife Edge test her resolve. Later, men on horseback and other
hikers arrive and take shelter nearby, ending her solitude's
"internal cleansing." But the visitors bring benefits, too, not the
least of which are steaming hot coffee and skillet-fried pork chops
In another essay, protecting these cherished
places in the West becomes her goal. "Differential Weathering: A
Wilderness Lobbyist's Field Notebook" recounts a venture in
Washington, D.C., in 1995, when the Utah Wilderness Coalition asked
Beath to join other "redrock addicts" in an effort to prevent the
paving of a route to Bullfrog Marina. For both Beath and her
readers, this effort to sway Congress is an eye-opener. Back East,
"nature meant a framed watercolor" and consensus held that if
Western lands weren't being mined, drilled, or logged, if rivers
weren't being dammed, what use were they? Seeing firsthand
"Washington's isolation from the land it attempted to administer"
taught Beath many valuable lessons.
Other lessons -- a
fascinating study of agricultural techniques in "Zuni Maize," of
peregrine falcons in "The Brilliant Air," of Baja California in
"The First Rule" -- cover complicated scientific territory. Readers
may find Beath's prose sometimes long-winded and self-indulgent,
but her honest respect and love for the Western landscapes she
experiences and shares inspire thought as well as