Another hiking book--and the extraordinary thing is, this time both route and means of locomotion are ordinary. No backwards blindfolded skipping down Everest for Sullivan(Exploring Oregon's Wild Areas), just a tromp across Oregon, down four mountain ranges in ""a scraggly W-shaped line from the Pacific Ocean to the Snake River's Hells Canyon."" He does manage to stumble across some rocks in his easygoing adventure. He accidentally chomps on poisonous mushrooms, runs across a red-bearded marijuana farmer who guards crops with a gun (intended for commando pot pirates, not cops). These peaks aside, it's mostly smooth strolling as we absorb local history and legends, spot indigenous wildlife (bear, sand cranes, coyote), gasp at spectacular scenery (obsidian cliffs, plunging canyons), bump into a passel of passionate ecologists who live and hike (and often equate the two) in this really rather remarkably wild corner of America. Most memorable here is the former poli-sci prof who lives in a yurt and runs a sweat lodge. No yurts for Sullivan, who doesn't subscribe to the masochist school of backpacking: his adventure includes trips back home (for recuperation and cookies), visits from Mom and Dad, a sensible pace throughout. Now and then, he even breaks into a few bars of ""Frosty the Snowman"" to lift his spirits. Pleasant, good-humored, sturdy--but enough is enough. Next time, how about a hike on the ocean floor?