Edward Abbey (1927--1989)--a cranky environmentalist, anarchist, curmudgeon, and crazy romantic--remains one of my favorite authors. He wrote about nature and the earth like a lover speaks of his beloved--that is with an open and honest heart. He could be contrary and outrageous in his passion for our world, while holding all governments and developers in well-deserved contempt.
I am reading this week a compendium of excerpts from some of his many books. Entitled The Serpents of Paradise and edited by John Macrae, the book captures some of Abbey's best writing. My favorites are: Desert Solitaire, a soliloquy on the desert, the love of which I share with the author; Black Sun, a genuine romantic love story that celebrates what true love is all about; and, of course, The Monkey Wrench Gang, at once a comic farce and a manual for guerrilla environmentalists everywhere.
Like Abbey, I have always prized the out-of-doors, and, hopefully, I have instilled this appreciation in my kids who I have dragged on endless hikes, wild whitewater raft trips, and primitive wilderness camping jaunts. So I dedicate this blog to them, and to the Ferguson family who have so often joined us, as well as to my female partners who have endured maybe more of this unvarnished nature that they thought they were signing up for.
"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountain rise into and above the clouds."
I am reading this week a compendium of excerpts from some of his many books. Entitled The Serpents of Paradise and edited by John Macrae, the book captures some of Abbey's best writing. My favorites are: Desert Solitaire, a soliloquy on the desert, the love of which I share with the author; Black Sun, a genuine romantic love story that celebrates what true love is all about; and, of course, The Monkey Wrench Gang, at once a comic farce and a manual for guerrilla environmentalists everywhere.
Like Abbey, I have always prized the out-of-doors, and, hopefully, I have instilled this appreciation in my kids who I have dragged on endless hikes, wild whitewater raft trips, and primitive wilderness camping jaunts. So I dedicate this blog to them, and to the Ferguson family who have so often joined us, as well as to my female partners who have endured maybe more of this unvarnished nature that they thought they were signing up for.
"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountain rise into and above the clouds."
Me and my oldest sons, Ian and Dai, on the south rim of the Grand Canyon.
Emily, Sam, me, and Jacob atop a ridge in the Wind River Range in western Wyoming.
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