As a runner and writer whose favorite genre to read is the travel memoir, I was primed to adore this book. In trying to figure out why I don't, I think it's because I wanted to hear more from Edison Eskeets, the runner at the heart of this story. He ran 330 miles from Spider Rock, Arizona, to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to commemorate the Navajo Long Walk. The book tells the story of that run. But Edison says very little in these pages. I guess he lets his feet do the talking, and when I think of it as a kind of performance art, it makes sense. But how do you make a book with someone who chooses to make his point nonverbally? Author Jim Kristofic himself says he expected something different; a statement from Eskeets, who would end his run at the seat of the New Mexican government by speaking to those in power about his people's history and the importance of their continued existence. When the journey didn't end that way, I can imagine Kristofic asking himself, "Now how do I make a book out of this?" The answer was to interview Eskeets's friends and family about him, which was interesting, and to detail the run itself, day by day, which was well done. But the other answer was to write about the brutal history of Navajo interaction with other cultures, starting in the 1600s. Every chapter includes both Edison's run and some pieces of Navajo history, inevitably involving murders, broken promises, and other forms of brutality. Strangely, there's very little about the actual Long Walk. Most of the historical pieces rely on one source, a book by Raymond Friday Locke called "The Book of the Navajo." I learned a lot about Navajo history from this book, and it's a sad tale, one that weighs on the heart. I learned a bit about Eskeets and his run. I would have liked the book more if the balance had been the other way.