A lyrically and lovingly written account by the author of his trips into the upper reaches of the Wind River Range in Wyoming in all seasons collecting snow and water samples for the U.S. Forest Service for acid rain studies in the late 1980's and 1990. By winter he and a partner would ski (leather boot era telemark gear) out to remote snow collectors and formally weigh and measure snow and bring enough back for study that their packs were huge and heavy. Rawlins writes at length about what he sees, the topography, the geology, the snow and the plant life. He hits the trifecta; he knows what he is writing about, he loves it, and he is a good writer. A description of a hard day skiing upwards might be a stepping stone to musings on government, the environment, the quirks of his partner, his own foibles, up to the broadest discussions of philosophy.
My mother was a natural speed reader, and leveraged this power into a voracious consumption and collection of books. When she died I gave away most of her books, but this one caught my eye in no small part because I hiked for seven days in the Wind River Range in 1995 just a few years after the book was published. I am glad I stopped to ponder, and then take this book.