These are eight essays, written in the 1860s, about the Catskills - part of my personal joy was recognizing so many streams and mountains I have hiked over, swam and fished in, and camped along.
This is definitely a book of the 1860s - nature is loved and appreciated, but not idealized. Animals get shot, and in one instance, brutalized.
He did rekindle my desire to hike Slide Mtn, the highest peak in the Catskills. If anyone wants to join me?
Here is the closing paragraph of the penultimate essay:
I have thus run over some of the features of an ordinary trouting excursion to the woods. People inexperienced in such matters, sitting in their rooms and thinking of these things, of all the poets have sung and romancers written, are apt to get sadly taken in when they attempt to realize their dreams. They expect to enter a sylvan paradise of trout, cool retreats, laughing brooks, picturesque views, and balsamic couches, instead of which they find hunger, rain, smoke, toil, gnats, mosquitoes, dirt, broken rest, vulgar guides, and salt pork; and they are very apt not to see where the fun comes in. But he who goes in a right spirit will not be disappointed, and will find the taste of this kind of life better, though bitterer, than the writers have described.