Utah Books

The founder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (commonly referred to as the Mormon church), Joseph Smith was always a controversial figure. Considered by his followers to be a prophet of God charged with the mission of re-establishing His church and people on earth, he established Nauvoo, Illinois, a militia, and was deeply involved in the politics of the day. At the time of his death in 1844 at the hands of a mob who attacked and killed him while he was under arrest in a Missouri jail, Joseph Smith was also an active candidate for president of the United States. In Junius And Joseph: Presidential Politics And The Assassination Of The First Mormon Prophet, historians and co-authors Robert S. Wicks and Fred R. Foister lay out a persuasive case that the death of Joseph Smith was no random act of mob violence, but a carefully planned and orchestrated political assassination to prevent Smith's election to the nation's highest office -- the presidency. Key individuals engaged in the conspiracy, as well as those who took part in the assault on Carthage jail are identified. Evidence that the lethal effort to remove the Mormon leader from political power through his assassination extended to include prominent Whig politicians as well as the Democratic governor of Missouri. Also available in a hardcover edition (087-4216079, $45.95) Junius And Joseph is a seminal, ground breaking work of truly impressive scholarship, and critically important reading for students of Mormon Studies and American Political History Studies.

I hesitantly give Junius and Joseph four stars. It is a comprehensive study of the events leading up to the assassination of Joseph Smith and gives the most detailed reconstruction of the assassination I have read. The authors successfully argue that the assassination was result of a conspiracy of local and state politician, but their attempt to link the conspiracy to Henry Clay and a nation-wide conspiracy seem tenuous at best.

While the authors try to present their material objectively, a lurking anti-Mormon sentiment clouds their analysis. Most notably is the chapter in which they argue that the Mormon's actively sought to avenge Smith's murder. For example, the authors make the gratuitous statement that number who lost their lives to Mormon vengeance "can only be guessed at." Their attempts to show that anyone died are remarkably weak.

They color the death of Frank Worrel, a conspirator in Smith's murder, with a love letter Worrel wrote and his tender leave-taking of his wife and child on the day of his death. (Significantly, Smith's leave-taking of his wife and children before his death is not even mentioned.) However, the authors do not give the circumstance of Worrel's death are not given and their conclusion that Worrel was a casualty of Mormon vengeance cannot be evaluated.

The authors' attempts to link the Mountain Meadows massacre to Mormon vengeance are based solely on one statement by John D. Lee, who was then disaffected from the Mormon church. Again while they discuss the massacre in some detail, they neglect to mention that Brigham Young sent orders that the wagon train was not to be attacked.

Readers must be wary of these and other flaws as they read this important work.

Fascinating information about the time and era of Joseph in Nauvoo; including all the facts leading up to his presidential nomination, the presidential campaign and subsequent assasination.

The one major complaint I have is that I found some of the presentation a bit overly academical, with long sentences and fancy words. I prefer a simpler approach to writing. One that the average and simple-minded (like myself) can easily follow. This is not to say that it was all very complicated, but I sometimes had to read paragraphs or sections two or three times to comprehend the meaning. (Jan Shipps is another example of bad academic-styled writing, while Richard Lyman Bushman is an example of comprehensive writing.)

In spite of this weakness, I nearly gave it 5 stars for the sheer audacity and boldness with which it attacks its subject matter - not to mention the plethora of documentation and factual information surrounding General Joseph Smith's presidential campaign, the council of fifty, the 'Kingdom of God' and all the facts leading up to Joseph and Hyrum Smith's assasination at Carthage.

The final chapters conclude by giving us the names of the men responsible for the assasination (including the men who pulled the trigger!) and what became of them following the act.

Junius & Joseph paints a clear picture of the political times of the 1840's, including the ambitions and tactics of politicians including Henry Clay, Martin Van Buren, John Tyler, James Polk, Thomas Ford and several others. It also lists names of 30 of the 50 members of the 'council of fifty' and describes exactly what we know about the somewhat secret organization.

A fascinating read for anyone interested in the politics and conspiracies surrounding the death of Joseph Smith. It will place you completely into the time, and give you an understanding of the event that is as complete as possible with the documents available to us today. It may never get clearer than this.

Somehow I didn't buy one of the picture books available locally when I visited this fabulous area so I've been trying to find a memento for several years. This is a very nice find, full of excellent, but somewhat modest, photos.

Many controversies surround the Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell related to environmental concerns and I share some of these. Nevertheless Gary Ladds book is a brilliant photoessay which proves that out of bad policy decisions great beauty may serendipitously arise. I have travelled and photographed these regions for more than 20 years and these pictures are so beautiful and vivid, providing at times panoramic and at times intimate views of this beautiful canyon country, that my breath is taken away.

For many people, the name Lake Powell conjures up images of a blue lake among red rock--of boating over a sprawling, azure sheen of unbroken water, beneath high, vermilion sandstone walls. It calls to mind shorelines lined with tamarisks and cottonwoods, bays mottled with preening mergansers and watchful egrets, water caves full of reflected light, and sunsets mirrored by a shining, landlocked ocean.
For others, the name alone is enough to make them start shaking in anger and sadness. For those, Lake Powell is not a lake at all. It's a misbegotten reservoir. It's a crime. It's all that lies between them and the legendary, long lost Glen Canyon-a stretch of the Colorado River so inviting, so overwhelming, and so full of secrets, it's often been called the Grand Canyon's lovelier sibling.
Unlike Cataract Canyon upstream, and the Grand Canyon downstream, Glen Canyon was a tranquil place with currents friendly enough for even the most boyish of Boy Scouts and the oldest of old ladies. Edward Abbey considered it the heart of the canyon lands. The residents of White Canyon, Utah--a town since submerged by Lake Powell--considered it home. The Bureau of Reclamation just considered it a good place to build a dam.
That dam, Glen Canyon Dam, was built in the early-1960s, to create a reservoir in which to store the water of the Colorado River for the states that needed it, to use the river's water to turn turbines and generate lucrative electricity, to control the Colorado River's seasonal flooding, to bring visiting boaters and their money in from all around the world, and to stop water-borne silt and sediment from clogging Lake Mead, an even larger reservoir downstream. The 710-foot-tall Glen Canyon Dam blocked the path of the Colorado River, the trapped river backed up behind the dam, and everywhere the water could go, it did. It covered multiple rivers, created bays, filled Glen Canyon and side canyons and coves, drowned beavers and snakes and trees, and turned buttes and spires into islands. It changed an almost two hundred-mile-long stretch of the Colorado River into Lake Powell, into a deep, manmade lake with about 1,960 miles of ragged, convoluted shoreline-a shoreline longer than America's West Coast.
And then, then there was Gary Ladd.
Gary Ladd knew Glen Canyon, and initially hated Lake Powell for inundating it. But then over time, he realized Lake Powell had a very real beauty, a beauty all its own, regardless of its origins, and he started to take pictures of it.
And his pictures were gorgeous.
And here they are.
Right here in this book.
Buy this book, and dive into the colors and textures that Gary Ladd manages to capture on film: the blues and the reds, the sugar cookie textures of sandstone, and the shocks of color-filled flowers that burst like life itself up from acres of barren rock.
Buy it, set it on your coffee table, and watch the discussions begin.

I read this book for the first time when I was in my last semester of graduate work at Kansas State University. I was about to graduate with an M.A. in English that I had no idea how I was going to use. Tallmadge's autobiographical tale of his struggles with nature, self, career, and others encapsulates perfectly the agonizing dilemma that strikes any teacher with the slightest amount of idealism still in their blood. He wants to be true to himself, to, as Joseph Campbell put it, "follow [his] bliss." But he keeps getting derailed: first by the army, and then by a succession of teaching jobs that seem intent on crushing the budding idealism out of his teaching methodology.
While the book is at times a bit overly idealistic and starry-eyed, you can't help but admire the enthusiasm and passion with which Tallmadge tries to instill his passion for nature in his students. He's the kind of teacher that any lover of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, or modern writers like Terry Tempest Williams, Leslie Marmon Silko, or the like would immediately take to. He wants his students to understand their connection, not only with the land, but with each other, as a community of learners as well as a community of human beings. And then, at the end, when everything seems to fall apart, he finds solace in the simplest of items: a jack pine cone. I'd say more about that, but I don't want to ruin the moment of revelation that comes at the end.
Sufficed to say that "Meeting the Tree of Life" will leave you with a greater appreciation as well as understanding of the complex relationships that exist within nature as well as within the human soul. Like this review the book can be a little overly flowery at times, but the understanding that comes with reading this book makes those moments of saccharine sweetness almost pleasant. Give this book a try and I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed.

Tallmadge uses the events of his own life to illustrate mankind's connection to the environment and the necessity of wilderness. Writing in the spirit of his admired predecessors, Thoreau, John Muir, Edward Abbey, and Aldo Leopold; Tallmadge attempts to find his own unique voice in the enlightenment of his experience. At times he may get a little too "intimate with the rock", but he leaves the reader an optimistic feeling of the joy of discovery and knowledge.

On-Line Review by Leo Goldman, Natural Resources Defense Council.:

In one way, this book is in the tradition of the author's admired nature writers -- such folk as Emerson, Thoreau, John Muir, and Aldo Leopold. But the framework is an autobiography, beginning with brief mention of his childhood in suburbs, which he describes almost as if they were crowded cities, and from which he began to escape at age 15 to backpacking and climbing. A college student during the Vietnam War, he later sought in wilderness "authenticity" and " a model for just and sustainable human societies" -- which he did not see in the world he and his friends had grown up in.

He begins the detailed story with a difficult High Sierra climb -- between his military service (having volunteered for a program of Russian studies and intelligence work in order to avoid Vietnam itself) and graduate school. As he seeks for understanding of his motivations and feelings, he speaks first of challenge, thrill, danger, and athletic pleasure, but eventually realizes that he has become a naturalist, appreciating nature in all its complexity, not just the physical challenges and dramatic views. We follow his wilderness explorations, first in the mountains of the southwest during his first three years as a professor in Utah, then his disappointment in leaving the mountains for his next job, in Minnesota. There, however, he develops an appreciation of the wilderness of the flat country, mostly in canoe trips.

Certainly an offbeat English professor, he had his students read nature writing, then accompany him on difficult treks to mountains and lakes, and return to write about their experiences. This approach was not appreciated by his colleagues, who apparently preferred traditional methods of teaching literature and writing. He ends this volume with the shock of being denied tenure -- but finds new awareness in the metaphor of a pine cone that releases its new life only in fire.

Written with a compassion for working men in much the same vein as John Steinbeck, "Mine Work" treats the ruins of memory and the need for family reconciliation in the backdrop of desolate mining country in the Southwest. The author, Jim Davidson, deftly inerweaves the present (in which a tormented son despeately attempts to piece together three generations of family tragedy) and the past (in which a compelling narrative of injustice, racism, and personal pain) seamlessly.

One of the significant themes of this beautifully-paced first novel is the disgraceful treatment of Native Americans by rapacious industry and racist individuals. Markus Cottin's quest for knowledge and inner-peace cannot exist without a coming to grips with this aspect of history. The author has not written a polemic, however; Mr. Davidson's language is elegant, spare and precise.

This is the story of a young man's journey to discover the mystery behind his family's troubled history. It is rich in its description of life in the Colorado mining towns, including the mistreatment of the miners, and the degradation of the Navajos. The characters are well-developed and the reader is left feeling like she knows each one personally. However, I did feel that some of the descriptions were overly dramatic, and some of the prose seemed redundant. I enjoyed the book, as it enriched my knowledge of the Colorado mining towns and the shameful politics that surrounded that life; however, the book was full of misery from start to finish.

MINE WORK is not your standard western fare. It combines mystery with an episodic quest for a middle-age man's family history and identity. The story focuses on the plight of Markus Cottin and his search for a reason why he's estranged from his father and why a troubled younger brother committed suicide. Along the way, the author weaves in many little known historical and social elements of the 1940's and 1950's American West, including the struggles of the socially disenfranchised Navajo Nation, a dimension which lends this story a Hillerman-esque feel. The novel was a little difficult to digest in the early sections, however after a few chapters this reader was absolutely enthralled with the story. The writing is vivid and accomplished - the story itself, heart-wrenching.

Small company politics and manipulations mangled many laborers' lives during this bleak era, including the parents of Markus Cottin, about whom he knows almost nothing. Physically and emotionally alienated from a father who lives as a hermit and spits venom on the rare occasions they meet, Cottin pursues all leads in the hope that someone can give him some idea of who his father is, and why he's so consumed with bitterness and hatred. Revelation comes at last when Cottin is made to understand the horribly tragic experience of the oppressed working-class Colorado miners, second only in emotional devastation faced by the economically hapless Navajos. The author succeeds wonderfully in bringing these peoples' heroic struggles to life, allowing the reader to look back at a excruciatingly tragic episode in 20th Century American history.

MINE WORK is a powerful "western". I'd recommend to my friends of the most sophisticated tastes. This novel is as go

Since Mitt Romney's Presidential bid, discussion blogs are overloaded with people asking about Mormon beliefs, but there are few asking about Mormon cultural norms, which arguably could have a bigger impact on a Romney White House. This hilarious gem of a recipe book provides incisive tongue-in-cheek insight into Mormon culture in Utah and Idaho, as well as a hidden treasure of recipes by Sister Enid Christensen.

From Tuna a la King of Kings and Adam's Barbecued Short Ribs to Legislature Weenies and Suppresso, both Latter Day Saints with a sense of humor and those who have lived among them will delight in this buffet of tasty treats.

Savory morsels of history with a dash of theology are artfully blended with wholesome family social structure into a Utah feast. The family tree at the begininng of the chapter on "In-Breads" explains LDS cosmology, genealogy, history, plural marriage and naming conventions all in one easy diagram.

Let the kids make Bologna Angel Wings and try constructing a Sugar Cube Temple (if you happen to have 26,000 sugar cubes on hand) while you sip on Joseph and Emma's Afternoon Delight. One can only wish for a supplement on tapioca salads and home-canned goods.

If you live in the northern Utah/southeastern Idaho region, this book is legendary. It's one of those things that seems to be passed back and forth under the table; some people have seen it and others can quote whole passages from it. I was finally "gifted" a used copy by a gay friend, and I have to admit, this book is the damnedest thing: a humor classic that is also an incisive (but gentle) satire of a regional/religious culture, and above all else, a cookbook.

Sister Enid Christensen is the LDS housewife and mother to end them all: a Stake Relief Society Ancestral Recipe Coordinator whose duties coincide with the care and feeding of her husband and their "eternal family." Ingredients for the recipes are the stuff of the odds-and-ends cupboard: Ritz Crackers, Jell-O mix, leftover candy; the end results are Sunday horrors such as "Jell-O Ribbon Loaf" and "Franked Corn Things." Accompanying the recipes are photos of Sister Enid and her husband LaMar reveling in the eternal bliss of their kitchen or the hallowed glow of "Conference" over the living room television.

The Christensens are the alter-egos of Roger Salazar and Michael Wightman, two gay men who have brilliantly revealed the regional culture without eviscerating it. The Christensens may be harrowingly moribund in a box store, lock step lifestyle, but they're lovably goofy too, rendering this book a minor masterpiece of humor and pathos.

I can quibble about just two things: the "Jello-O Belt" shown on page 6 actually extends all the way north to Rexburg, Idaho, if not just beyond to St. Anthony. There's also no recipe for the famous "Funeral Potatoes" (a.k.a. "Party Potatoes"). But as one of my gay neighbors told me, "If you don't know that one already, you haven't lived here long enough."

This is very funny cookbook for those familiar with the Mormon (LDS) culture. It does not make fun of the religion only the culture so Mormons and non-Mormon will enjoy it equally. It has recipes. Includes such things as the Jello-Matrix for all occassions.

How in the world can a caucasion woman write so convincingly as an Asian man who finds himself forced into a WW II internment camp? Pinkston's amazing imagination makes me forget the author, forget the living room chair, forget the telephone as I experience a riveting international adventure.

Who among us has "Nothing to Regret?" Very few I would imagine. However, I certainly have nothing to regret for having purchased and read this excellent historical fiction saga of a Japanese family during WWII. As they find themselves inserted into Topaz, one of the consolidation centers, (concentration camps) their life changes dramatically, as does the life of their son who determines, as so many young Japanese American men of that era did, to prove their worth and their loyalty to their American home, even if the country didn't return that trust. Tristi Pinkston is an excellent young writer, with empathy far beyond her years for a long gone era. I recommend this book highly to all who seek a good read.

Gordon Ryan

I must admit that before this book I hadn't thought much about the Japanese experience in America during WW2. Wow, did I get a great education with this book. I really loved the story, like nothing I've ever read before. I think Pinkston did a great job and look forward to other books by her.

This handsome volume opens with a few pages of introduction about the Wasatch Mountains, followed by forty pages discussing the progress of the Painters of the Wasatch Mountains; an account illustrated in colour with examples of the artists' work which often highlight interesting comparisons. The text is informative accessible and well written in a conversational style. The last thirty pages of the book provide brief individual biographies of the artists.

However the real delight of the book is the nearly two hundred and thirty pages comprising the Portfolio of Images, full colour reproductions, one or occasionally two to a page. The large almost square format of the book allows for good size images without the need to turn the page to accommodate those of landscape proportions; and a few pictures are even reproduced life size. The quality of the images is excellent often revealing the texture of the brush work in the original. Most artists are represented by quite a few examples of their work, they provide for a range of painting styles; the majority of the paintings are in oils, with a few watercolours, and date from around the 1850s to as recently as 2005. In total there are about two hundred and seventy five artworks in colour.

This is a sumptuous work, what an art book should be with the emphasis on the beautifully reproduced paintings and the text kept to a minimum.

A stunning book. Anyone who is a fan of the mountain wilderness cannot help but enjoy viewing this book. It takes you back to the time when 'white eyes' first happened upon these mountains. The delicate color, the wide field, and the land itself breathes life. A treasure.

A big coffee-table book, with exactly the kind of panaromic images you expect. You can while away an afternoon gazing at these cooly complacent views of an idealized West.

my family has been reading and then re reading this book for at least 10 years.. for us its like poetry and takes us all back to some faboulous river trip memories..

This book is a gem. If Abbey had a feminine counter-voice Meloy's would be it. Like Desert Solitaire Meloy speaks of the raw, untamed beauty of the southern Utah wilderness. We travel with her and her husband Mark down the Green River through Desolation Canyon and deep into the wild places of the human psyche. Meloy takes us back to our more primitive self with an eye for detail and a soft, gentle humor. She transports us on a journey that few of us will ever take. Through her eyes we see the river from a myriad of uses and view points: the prehistoric Fremont culture, early river runners to the modern river rat. Like Abbey before her, Meloy gives us a sense of place that comes alive through her words. This is an ode to a wild river and as she feared, possibly a eulogy. Desolation Canyon its environs remains one of the more endangered places in the southwest. The wild in all of us lost a voice with her untimely death in 2004.

A meditation on the Green River, water in the West, and wilderness.

I first read Meloy's EATING STONE, a book about desert bighorns. In comparison to that book, where the specificity of the theme reined in the author's imagination somewhat, RAVEN'S EXILE ranges widely. I think it should be read as a meditation/rant rather than as a factual account or even a memoir. At times the language is poetic; at other times I found it imprecise and over-the-top. Sometimes Meloy's outrage at American culture's lack of concern for wilderness, the hubris of building huge cities in the middle of the desert, and the arrogance of wanting to replace native fish with others that give better "sport" is acutely expressed and trenchant; sometimes the text degenerates into idiosyncracy and misanthropy.

Recommended, but I tend to think Craig Childs' book on water in the desert addresses the topic better.

Recollections of a Handcart Pioneer of 1860 (Second Edition): A Woman's Life on the Mormon Frontier

As a Gr Granddaughter of handcart pioneers, I've wondered what could have driven them to such extreme efforts, but my ancestors left very little in writing. This book was a small window into a culture that is difficult to understand. I only wish she had gone into more detail. Her calm acceptance of polygamy, and her courage in raising 7 children in such a desolate place, almost single-handedly, leaves much unsaid.

A fascinating peep into the everyday life of one woman who, along with many others, braved the trail west. Her story is told simply and factually - it has the feel of sitting down with an old friend you haven't seen for a long time and catching up on the news. Whether you're of the Mormon faith or not (I'm not, but enjoyed the book for its historical content), you can't help but admire the hardy spirit of this pioneer woman in the face of death and hardship and rejoice with her in the simple delights that come along just often enough to make it all worthwhile. Though the title sounds like the book focuses mostly on the trail experience, it actually tells her story through the rest of her life.

I must admit that I am a bit biased, since Mary was my wife's great grandmother. A touching book, and does not white wash the trials experienced.

Having recently moved back to the mid-west after living in the west for four years, I am amazed at the lack of awareness or information on what many describe as the War in the West. Before you protest that War may be to strong, consider: Employees of the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), the U.S. Forest Service, and other federal employees in certain areas of the west carry sidearm's and long rifles; government vehicles have been firebombed; anonymous threats directed at government workers are routine; and county commissioners have authorized bulldozing or roads into National Parks and Monuments. Add to this volatile situation the recent decision of the Forest Service to charge a fee to anyone desiring to walk into a national forest and proposals to limit, or eliminate, logging and drilling in large sections of government land in the west and you have the makings of a real, well...war. Oh, did I mention the decision to increase the amount ranchers must pay to graze their cattle on public land? Needless to say, that has been a real popular decision among western ranchers that consider their right to use public lands as sacred. Speaking of sacred, the environmentalist movement had made itself real popular as well by proposing that millions of acres of land in the west be placed in the National Wilderness Preservation System. Such a designation would effectively remove it from any use by the public other than those associated with hiking. No way in or out except by foot, period. Then there is the proposal, gaining credibility and supporters, to decommission Glen Canyon Dam and drain Lake Powell. Some folks in Las Vegas, Los Angeles and Phoenix have some concerns about this endeavor. While this battle is being waged geographically in the west, it is over public lands that belong to all citizens, including those of us that live a long day's drive to be even close to the action. In looking at the available literature on the myriad of issues in this war I find, as usual, a lot of publications that are long on rhetoric and short on real information or facts. I treasure the book that make's it argument in an honest, heartfelt, straight-forward manner. I may not agree with the opinion or argument of the author but I can respect their honesty and sincerity. Such books are few and far between. Edward Abbey did it with Desert Solitaire. Wallace Stegner did it with Coda: Wilderness Letter in The Sound of Mountain Water. The late T.H. Watkins has done it with The Redrock Chronicles. If you want a concise, upfront, spirited argument for the preservation of an area that many consider ground zero in the environmental war in the west, this is one of the best. Watkins, an award-winning writer, historian, and scholar has written an eloqquent testament tothe redrock country of southern Utah that is destined to become a classic. In just 163 pages, Watkins provides the reader with the history, geology, politics and sense of place in both the written word and with stunning photographs, that capture the mystery and complexity of a land under siege. This is one of those rare books that will capture your heart and spirit regardless of your political leanings in this war. It does so because Watkins has managed to write a love story so unique and touching that it could only come from what he calls the "home of his heart." Southern Utah's wild country is not for the timid, spandex-attired tourist on a carefully planned, scripted vacation. This 130,000 square miles of the Colorado Plateau was chosed by Brigham Young as just the kind of wild, desolate, forbidding place to send his followers in order that they might practice their particular brand of religion in peace and solitude. It is an area where a young wanderer from California could find spiritual comfort and disappear without a trace (Everett Ruess.)It is such a desolate place that during the 1950's the Atomic Energy Commission considered it expendable should fallout from atomic testing in Nevada drift northward, which it did. Why then, all the fuss over such desolate, forbidding land? Because it's there and because it weighs so heavy on the heart to see it destroyed, even on the altar of so-called economic development. Because, as Watkins stated shortly before he died,"I am helplessly addicted to this place, this wondrous geographic puzzle of canyons turning in on themselves, of upthrust plateaus and big blisterlike mountains, of multicolored rocks all layered and bent and broken, of curling rivers dammed by beavers and shaded by grandfather cottonwoods, of horizon-wide sweeps of sunlit emptiness and gracile unknown places where darkness hides and will not tell its name." After reading this gem of a book there will be many readers that will wonder about what was lost with the building of Glen Canyon Dam. One thing is for sure; those that advocate its decommissioning will likely garner some additional supporters. Love stories are like that.

This brief eloquent book is a treasure. The history of the battle for Utah wilderness is a story that needs to be read by everyone who visits the redrock deserts and National Parks of Utah, and by everyone who lives in the region. Our astounding wild landscapes are not there by accident, but because there are people who love and defend them. The photos show places that would be protected if America's Redrock Wilderness Act were passed into law. These are the places that could be lost forever if public lands were privitized (as wise-use and sagebrush rebel groups would like) or managed for industrial tourism, resource extraction and grazing (as the BLM seems inclined to do). I hope that in the future this book becomes a triumphant chronicle of the vision and persistance that saved Utah's public lands wilderness instead of a sad chronicle of what was lost.

Living in Utah, the battle over wilderness is a continual part of my life. And being an environmentalist, it is an important part of my life. There are 9.1 million acres up for wilderness designation in this state, but because of opposition from mining, timber, grazing, and off highway vehicle users, the process is slow- going. T.H. Watkins does an admirable job of making the reader feel the spirit of the west and the heart of the battle... which should make one realize the importance of wilderness designation, especially for these last few million acres. The Redrock Chronicles is not a political commentary, nor is it easily dismissed propaganda from the environmentalist faction. It is simply a writer's statement about the utter importance of wild places.