First read: Desert Solitaire is one of those books that I've seen a million times---on other people's bookshelves, at gift shops in national parks, at library sales---but that I've never gotten around to buying or reading. When it arrived in an armchair travel bookbox and after I recently read The Secret Life of Cowboys, somehow I was "spurred" toward reading this book. And these two books (Secret Life and Desert Solitaire), in truth, have a lot in common: a common setting, the American West, and a common narrator, fellows burned out on life in the city and itching for, well, something the West has to offer. Edward Abbey is a surprising guy, happy in his summer job as a ranger at Arches National Monument in Utah, relaxing in the outdoors, ranting a bit about the encroachment of cars upon the wilderness, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, picking up a rock, flinging it at a rabbit, and killing it (literally). I never knew what this fellow was going to do next. Abbey seemed to be an odd mixture of tree hugger and Texas good ol' boy (though he was originally from Pennsylvania, he'd have fit right in here). Every page, every paragraph, is full of Abbey's opinions and philosophizing, but it makes for a good read. Favorite Quote: (from the Introduction) "It will be objected that the book deals too much with mere appearances, with the surface of things, and fails to engage and reveal the patterns of unifying relationships which form the true underlying reality of existence. Here I must confess that I know nothing whatever about true underlying reality, having never met any."Second Read:A reread. I had to find and read this book for a very silly reason. Here’s the story: I found a green hiking hat that I had to buy when I was in Utah. On the hat were three pictures with labels: Zion, Bryce Canyon, and Arches. We went physically to Zion and Bryce while we were in Utah, with no time for other stops, so I had to visit Arches through a book. Thus, Desert Solitaire.I liked it even better than I did last time. I was surprised to see Abbey as such a rebel; I didn’t remember that.
