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Run, River, Run: A Naturalist's Journey Down One of the Great Rivers of the West
The Green River runs wild, free and vigourous from southern Wyoming to northeastern Utah. Edward Abbey wrote in these pages in 1975 that Anne Zwinger's account of the Green River and its subtle forms of life and nonlife may be taken as authoritative. 'Run, River, Run,' should serve as a standard reference work on this part of the American West for many years to come." — New York Times Book Review
317 pages, Paperback
Published November 1, 1984
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About the author
Ann Zwinger
30 books16 followersAnn Haymond Zwinger was the author of many highly-regarded natural histories noted for comprehensive detail and lyrical prose.
In 1976, she received the John Burroughs Memorial Association Gold Medal for a distinguished contribution in natural history, Run, River, Run.
In 1976, she received the John Burroughs Memorial Association Gold Medal for a distinguished contribution in natural history, Run, River, Run.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
November 29, 2020
An intimate and informative account of the author’s several journeys along sections of the Green River that were stitched together into a cogent narrative.
Although written nearly fifty years ago, it is hard to picture anyone with Zwinger’s background today taking the time to write about one of America’s lesser known but greatest wild rivers.
4 stars. At times this read was 5 stars as Zwinger’s prose is excellent. I would have liked to have seen more history (dams, outlaws, Native American history) woven more carefully into the excellent nature narrative and perhaps a little less of the personal trip perspective.
Although written nearly fifty years ago, it is hard to picture anyone with Zwinger’s background today taking the time to write about one of America’s lesser known but greatest wild rivers.
4 stars. At times this read was 5 stars as Zwinger’s prose is excellent. I would have liked to have seen more history (dams, outlaws, Native American history) woven more carefully into the excellent nature narrative and perhaps a little less of the personal trip perspective.
March 25, 2023
Probably the best account of a river run that I've ever read because of the significant natural history component. The best chapter may be the first, in which Zwinger and friends explore the Green River's headwaters in the Bridger Wilderness in Wyoming's Wind River Range; she provides enough specific information to bring this challenging hike to life. Zwinger introduces each chapter/leg of the river run from source to mouth with a map of the river section under investigation. While these maps are detailed, they aren't detailed enough, and some of the named features inexplicably are completely illegible because of the shading used to depict canyons and cliffs. The book includes many black-and-white drawings, mostly of plants characteristic of the the terrain being traversed. In addition, though Zwinger makes a valiant effort, her description of the structural geology along the river is never very clear (at least it wasn't to this reader). Nevertheless, this is a very good book (I would have rated it 4.5 if Goodreads allowed) and, at times, Zwinger's prose is lyric.
June 29, 2008
For a lifetime I will be reading this book. If I can't be in the water, or near the water , then I can read about the water. The Rivers bring life to everything as if they are the arteries and we create damns as if to clog them. And death comes to all that thrives from the river's flow.
March 11, 2008
Zwinger's characteristically hyper-observant approach to her journey down the entirety of the Green River is one not to miss for any river lover in the American West.
August 28, 2008
Ann Zwinger is one of my favorite naturalists. She has written about the Wyoming's Wind River range and Colorado River. Very descriptive so much so that you can smell, see the sights and sounds.
November 24, 2024
Ann Zwinger's "Run, River, Run" follows the Green River's 730 path from Wyoming to Utah. Part-history, part- geology, part-biology, the author travels along and on the river, recording the journey with profuse, almost Victorian prose.
Most interesting are the anecdotes of early settlers and transients who used the river as a source of subsistence, transport, and concealment. Zwinger herself runs rapids in canoes and rafts and indulges in numerous meditations about the meaning of everything.
Zwinger's illustrations are excellent, her maps are illuminating; however, photographs would have made for a better book. Zwinger describes the water in various stages of flux, but eschews basic hydrology. A well researched portrait of a great river, Strunk and White notwithstanding.
Most interesting are the anecdotes of early settlers and transients who used the river as a source of subsistence, transport, and concealment. Zwinger herself runs rapids in canoes and rafts and indulges in numerous meditations about the meaning of everything.
Zwinger's illustrations are excellent, her maps are illuminating; however, photographs would have made for a better book. Zwinger describes the water in various stages of flux, but eschews basic hydrology. A well researched portrait of a great river, Strunk and White notwithstanding.
May 28, 2024
Zwinger writes lovingly of the Green River informing us of its natural and human history as she hikes to and along the headwaters in the Wind River Range then floats down it in segments (canoeiing and rafting) until reaching the confluence with the Colorado River. As she camps along the banks of the river she walks up the surrounding canyons describing the area. Included are many drawings, mostly of the flora but also of fossils and geologic mechanisms that formed the mountains and canyons.
Zwinger's prose is beautiful. Her passion for rivers and the outdoors are infectious.
Zwinger's prose is beautiful. Her passion for rivers and the outdoors are infectious.
September 21, 2025
I actually didn’t read this cover to cover. But I read enough of it to satisfy my interest. The prose is beautiful. The naturalism information is exhaustive and thus exhausting. It reminded me of The Secret Knowledge of Water, but the prose and the personal touch is a bit more appealing than that. Just too dense for my consumption. I’ve canoed the bottom section of the green river and now realize I was woefully ignorant of what I was seeing. It’s a marvel that this author had so much knowledge of such a broad range of naturalism and could deliver it with some beautiful personal prose.
January 28, 2019
“And it sometimes happened that while listening to the river, they both thought the same thoughts, perhaps of a conversation of the previous day, or about one of the travellers whose fate and circumstances occupied their mind, or death, or their childhood; and when the river told them something good at the same moment, they looked at each other, both thinking the same thought, both happy at the same answer to the same question.” -Hermann Hesse
February 18, 2020
Beautifully written and illustrated by an author who certainly knows her subject. Lots of interesting facts about the people who spent time on the river and land use policies. However too much information about geological features for someone who has little interest in the subject. Book would have been much better with color photos of the flowers, canyons and rapids
September 17, 2024
Parts of the book were interesting to me, mostly the adventures of following the river. I scanned over the geological details.
February 14, 2024
As the subtitle says, this is a journey down the Green River, a tributary of the Colorado. The sections are presented linearly from source to joining, which is not the order in which Zwinger explored them. Each section has geographical information, geological, ecological, and historical. It's a wonderful deep dive. I found the entire book soothing and engrossing. It very much made me 1) want to go canoeing again and 2) want to go West again.
It's an older book, so there is some language about Native Americans that made me cringe, and the historical focus is very much on white colonist and settlers. That's the standout flaw to me. However, the historical aspect is much smaller than the ecological/geological, so for me the volume of dated/racist thinking was minor enough that I still enjoyed the book overall. Obviously this won't be true for everyone, but it's a really gorgeous piece aside from those points.
It's an older book, so there is some language about Native Americans that made me cringe, and the historical focus is very much on white colonist and settlers. That's the standout flaw to me. However, the historical aspect is much smaller than the ecological/geological, so for me the volume of dated/racist thinking was minor enough that I still enjoyed the book overall. Obviously this won't be true for everyone, but it's a really gorgeous piece aside from those points.
June 7, 2016
Quotable:
There is a continuous boom, filling my ears, echoing off the rocks, reverberating through the woods. The vibration of the river comes right up through the soles of my boots. It seems irrational, incredibly powerful.
I realize that I am just purely happy to be on the river again.
The first frogs begin simmering. Swarms of cliff swallows interweave like aerial maypole dancers, crossing and arcing in intricate arabesques. Nighthawks cross higher above, their wings making rapid fluttering, almost pulsating, sounds. A sandhill crane calls, far downriver, calls again, still farther, a lonesome warbling. The air chills. The opalescent sky to the west darkens and all the subtle night sounds seem easier to hear in the cold, clear air, underlaid by the silken running of the river. The river still holds the light, a pewter thong binding the landscape across the river with this grassy bank.
I fall asleep to awake in the dark of the night to such a stillness: the high mountain cold locks the night flow and even the river is silent. I lie and listen. A duck flies by and all that tells of its going is the soft wheeping of its wings.
[L]eaning over the gunwale to watch the bottom is not a very effective way to paddle a canoe – or so I gather by comments from the stern.
In the deep, cool canyon a draft of warm air and a shaft of sun are welcome: my jeans are totally soaked, my feet wet, my hands cold even with gloves on, yet I am so completely happy to be back on the river that it matters little.
Over lunch we agree that canoeing is one of the best ways to learn the river, for one must mark what makes the river run and mark it well. As far as I am concerned, a canoe is one of the most pleasant modes of transportation invented; it fits the human body, and the rhythm of paddling suits human musculature and leverage. Perhaps a kayak is a more intimate way to go with the river, but a canoe is more comfortable for long miles. It is silent; it requires no fuel other than a good breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the boaters. In quiet water there is time to absorb the countryside; in fast water there are challenge and excitement. Its quiet going does not disturb wildlife on the river. It can be at once companionable and solitary. But, most of all, it is your decision both to run and how to run that streaming rapid that turns water iridescent in the sunlight.
It has been a long day of paddling for me, perched in an awkward position, and I am sure I will be sore, stiff, and a walking wounded. Instead, as I half-jump, half-fall off the raft, some peculiar elation hits: I have survived another day on the river’s terms, and weary as I am, my only regret is that I have to put the paddle down. The river pours by and I want to go with it.
[T]hose who go on the river just for rapids miss the totality of the river. Rapids are only a part, a very small part of the river. The high of running rapids can remain for a long time, but stillwater remains longer, the measure behind the running, the peace of the river.
There is a continuous boom, filling my ears, echoing off the rocks, reverberating through the woods. The vibration of the river comes right up through the soles of my boots. It seems irrational, incredibly powerful.
I realize that I am just purely happy to be on the river again.
The first frogs begin simmering. Swarms of cliff swallows interweave like aerial maypole dancers, crossing and arcing in intricate arabesques. Nighthawks cross higher above, their wings making rapid fluttering, almost pulsating, sounds. A sandhill crane calls, far downriver, calls again, still farther, a lonesome warbling. The air chills. The opalescent sky to the west darkens and all the subtle night sounds seem easier to hear in the cold, clear air, underlaid by the silken running of the river. The river still holds the light, a pewter thong binding the landscape across the river with this grassy bank.
I fall asleep to awake in the dark of the night to such a stillness: the high mountain cold locks the night flow and even the river is silent. I lie and listen. A duck flies by and all that tells of its going is the soft wheeping of its wings.
[L]eaning over the gunwale to watch the bottom is not a very effective way to paddle a canoe – or so I gather by comments from the stern.
In the deep, cool canyon a draft of warm air and a shaft of sun are welcome: my jeans are totally soaked, my feet wet, my hands cold even with gloves on, yet I am so completely happy to be back on the river that it matters little.
Over lunch we agree that canoeing is one of the best ways to learn the river, for one must mark what makes the river run and mark it well. As far as I am concerned, a canoe is one of the most pleasant modes of transportation invented; it fits the human body, and the rhythm of paddling suits human musculature and leverage. Perhaps a kayak is a more intimate way to go with the river, but a canoe is more comfortable for long miles. It is silent; it requires no fuel other than a good breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the boaters. In quiet water there is time to absorb the countryside; in fast water there are challenge and excitement. Its quiet going does not disturb wildlife on the river. It can be at once companionable and solitary. But, most of all, it is your decision both to run and how to run that streaming rapid that turns water iridescent in the sunlight.
It has been a long day of paddling for me, perched in an awkward position, and I am sure I will be sore, stiff, and a walking wounded. Instead, as I half-jump, half-fall off the raft, some peculiar elation hits: I have survived another day on the river’s terms, and weary as I am, my only regret is that I have to put the paddle down. The river pours by and I want to go with it.
[T]hose who go on the river just for rapids miss the totality of the river. Rapids are only a part, a very small part of the river. The high of running rapids can remain for a long time, but stillwater remains longer, the measure behind the running, the peace of the river.
Currently reading
August 3, 2009I am having a hard time finding time to concentrate on this book. It's one of those books that takes some effort to read; A lot of history, ecology.
Read
August 4, 2012Great book. Makes me want to go canoeing!
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews