1300 miles in 65 days across forbidding and rugged country is in itself a magnificent feat of endurance and determination. Taking the reader on a pithy version of the hike fleshed out with magical places and sage characters is perhaps a more challenging task.
Too often, "I went hiking here," or "I went climbing there," books come off as boiled down tomes to experiences no one but the author can ever appreciate. This is NOT the case with Listening for Coyote. To begin, William Sullivan chooses to present his material in diary form. Keeping track of dates, mileage and even weather conditions. He puts the reader in his mind, which at times veers off into the very Wilderness he is trekking through, and meticulously documents the history and geological features of the wonderland he is experiencing.
Beginning, it seems, as a personal gamble, Sullivan puts together his route with a scholarly intensity that is referred back to not only in preparation for his campaign, but as a reference to what he should have seen in the Wild versus what actually occurred.
His first stop on the trail, after wading across a waterway, is a cemetery, where he discovers his namesake. Instead of considering this apparition a harbinger, he instead revels in the mathematical age of the deceased and laughs that he has not yet reached that plateau. Viewing the grave site as an affirmation rather than stopping point.
With his Spiritual House in order, Sullivan truly embarks on what will prove to be an epic trek that is sprinkled with devilish characters met like fantastical elves upon the trail. While some encounters are planned others are spontaneous and even edged with a facade of danger.
Still our hero perseveres as he relates his personal history, the regional history, Native lore, and his spiritual history as he communes with the Land. When he is uncomfortable, like when he spends the night in a relatives lake house, you feel uncomfortable. The same is true when you and he seem to comprehend the possibility of stealing away forever into a semi abandoned cabin camp he happens upon along the way.
When the final pages of the book are turned you get the feeling that he is driving into an uncertain future. Away from his concerns about calories and miles and mountain crossings and snow, into becoming a displaced Forest Thing that longs to return to instincts and silences of a different Nature than the electric buzz of Civilization. It is no small irony that a "Time Master," shuttles him away from timelessness and returns him to the synchronized plain. This Journey is worth the Escape.