Timothy Egan begins this western journey in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Awed by the Grand Teton; or, “big tit,” his words and one of the seven dirty ones which made George Carlin famous. Then upper class has arrived, building McMansions, which, in my view, is the real obscenity, not Carlin’s language. Egan shares my wrath, calling the houses “trophy homes,” owned by the idle rich, while cops, firefighters and teachers can no longer afford to live where they work. Next up is New Mexico and the battle between Kit Laney, a cattle rancher in Catron County, and the U.S. government over grazing fees. It is also the place where Billy the Kid grew up the son of an Irish immigrant buried there. The cattle have over grazed the land and the timber industry has devastated the forest through clear cutting. Egan next travels to Acoma, New Mexico and takes us back to the 1500s with Spanish invaders demanding Indians give up their sun gods for “one true church of Rome.” They are easily defeated and have their hands and feet amputated by the good Christians. Lake Havasu is destination #4 and Egan describes the Joshua tress in the Mojave Desert. Nearby, the Brits have reassembled a 700 foot span of London Bridge; strange but true. The Parker Dam followed the Hoover Dam and created Lake Havasu from the water of the Colorado River. Egan remains in New Mexico and rides a horse and admires the overwhelming beauty of the Grand Canyon, which Teddy Roosevelt had the wisdom to declare a national monument. And now we have the Twitter King, while the leaders of the past are gone and in the dust bins of history. Escalante, Utah, ironically named after an 18th century Franciscan missionary, is Egan’s next stop. He seeks rock art and the murals carved into the mountains are spectacular. He should have included photographs in this chapter, as a picture is worth 1,000 words. Egan then detours to Sin City and he proceeds to lose a few dollars at the slot machines and ventures out into the desert while pondering the Joshua tree, named by Mormons for the biblical prophet. It is a desert town turned into a city of over one million by diverting water from Lake Mead and the Colorado River. “Lose a week’s pay, get drunk, get laid, it’s the American Vatican for vice.” And now from sinners to saints; St. George, that is and a brief history of the Mountain Meadow Massacre in 1857. A wagon train of gentiles (non-Mormons) was ambushed and slaughtered on orders from Brigham Young. Men, women and children were shot and had their throats cut; a prophecy known as “blood atonement,” a part of early Mormon doctrine. Letters to Brigham Young have conveniently disappeared from extensive church archives and Indians were blamed for the atrocity. Such B.S., as denial is not a river in Egypt. Mark Twain can always be relied upon for the proper perspective. “Utah is an absolute monarchy and Brigham Young is king.” Egan take a tour of Young’s bedroom and asks the elder where the 27 wives slept and is told that he marriages were “symbolic.” The author wonders where the 56 children came from. Hey Timothy, they didn’t call him Bring ‘am Young for no reason. On to Highland’s Ranch, Colorado with its breathtaking views of the Rocky Mountains and back to Egan’s humor and tale of Ken Turnbull’s ostrich ranch. The neighboring cattleman think he’s nuts. A brief history of bison and cattle follows. Egan moves on to Butte, Montana and sees a community poisoned by copper mining. The water is contaminated with heavy metals and is the most toxic site in America. His Catholic heart remains hopeful, as he marvels at a 90 foot Our Lady of the Rockies statue overlooking the valley, hoping for a miracle. From the gloom of Butte, Egan travels through southern Montana and to Yellowstone National Park and then he ventures into the Bitterroot Mountains of Idaho for some camping and fishing with two of his younger brothers. I can only envy Egan’s adventurous spirit as I have lived in New York my entire life. After a few days in the wilderness, Timothy finds himself in Joseph, Oregon where clear cutting by the timber industry has devastated the landscape. Lewis and Clark had survived there, only due to help from the Nez Perce, an Indian tribe who fed them when they were starving. The tribe was later vanquished by white settlers as treaties were broken; and so it goes. And now to the author’s home state of Washington and his Catholic roots reemerge at a gathering of the faithful, praying mostly in Spanish at a traffic sign said to have an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Egan marvels at the growing Latino population and the racism they must endure. He shares their reverence for the Virgin Mary, although he does not see the image. He goes back a second time when the crowds are gone and says, “I saw more than I had seen before, the rainbow outline of color, and if I had really tried hard I could have seen a face. But I was not disappointed. In ten years time, maybe less, I knew I might look at a road sign in one of these valleys, on a day when other things seemed flat, and see the Mother of God. It was inevitable,” And last but not least, California, to raft on the American River in the Sierra Nevada. The gold rush brought thousands of Chinese, Russians, Swedes, and even Timothy’s ancestors speaking Gaelic. Egan loves the west and this book shows us why.