Muscled through reading this would describe my reaction. Lots of people wax lyrical about Hoagland's writing, but it was flat for me. He interviewed many people who had lived through the late 1800s and early 1900s in British Colombia and Alaska, and their stories should have been exciting, or at least interesting, but rather than let them speak in their own words, he interpreted for them and it is rather dull. He does have some good descriptions of the people and places, but manages to suck the life and spirit out of the adventure.

The author himself (this was written in the 1960s) has the attitude when speaking of women that they are OK for decoration, work & sex, but not much otherwise. I love that one of the old-timers he was interviewing told him that the major fault of his book was that he didn't interview any of the women!

I read this because I am interested about the area and the way of life of those who lived there, the natives and their interactions with the whites who came and what became of them. I think he was as fair-handed as one from his background could be at the time, without glossing over the condition.

Am I happy to have read this? Eh.
Would I read anything else by this author? Not voluntarily
Would I recommend it. Not unless you are obsessed with this type of story or this place. ( )

In 1966, Edward Hoagland, journalist, took a three month trip through the wilds of British Columbia. “I would be talking to the doers themselves, the men whom no one pays any attention to until they are dead, who give the mountains their names and who pick the passes that become the freeways.”

And so this book is filled with his encounters with these characters whose chosen home is life in the wild. Hunting, fishing, living off the land, making-do, trapping, homesteading, cooking, keeping warm, bringing babies into the world, their interactions with one another – native and white.

He sets his scenes beautifully. I can't get over the evenings – the balmy air, the late, late daylight. Life catches a perfervid quality, although nothing happens. The sky and the lake are the color of mercury; the moon is a slice of copper plate; the trees blow whimsically. The moments seem intense and precious.

I enjoyed this look back in time and place. ( )