Eric Blehm, about the disappearance of a backcountry ranger, veteran of 28 summers patrolling the Sierra Nevada. A friend of RDC's recommended it to him before we left, and this was one of his vacation books. I started it on the last day at the beach when I decided that I am still not ready to devote myself properly to José Saramago's Journey to Portugal. Contrary to the westward flight, the homeward one was overnight: mask, no reading.
Someone likened it to Into the Wild. I would not: I had no sympathy for Christopher McCandless's unplanned, untaught jaunt. This ranger was flawed, but none of his faults was an ignorance of or respect for his chosen territory. Also to Into Thin Air, for the pacing and placing of backstory. That I can see, somewhat, but Blehm is no Krakauer.