A little something different:
"Since he'd been assigned districts all over the State of Wyoming . . . Joe ascribed certain personality traits to mountain ranges. He conceded his impressions were often unfair and partially based on his mood at the time or things he was going through. Rarely, though, had he changed his mind about a mountain range once he'd established its quirks and rhythms in his mind.
"The Tetons were flashy, cold, bloodless, Eurotrash mountains -- too spectacular for their own good. They were the mountain equivalent of supermodels.
"The Gros Ventres were a rich graveyard of human history -- both American Indian and early white -- that held their secrets close and refused to accommodate the the modern era.
"The Wind River Mountains were what the Tetons wanted to be: towering, incredibly wealthy with scenery and wildlife, vast, and spiritual.
"The Bighorns, Joe's mountains in northern Wyoming . . . were comfortable, rounded and wry -- a retired All-Pro linebacker who still had it.
"But the Sierra Madre was still a mystery. He couldn't yet warm to the mountains, and he fought against being intimidated by their danger, isolation, and heartless beauty. , , , These mountains were like a glimpse of a beautiful and exotic woman passing in a car, a gun on her lap, who refused to make eye contact."
-- C. J. Box, in his novel Nowhere to Run.
"Since he'd been assigned districts all over the State of Wyoming . . . Joe ascribed certain personality traits to mountain ranges. He conceded his impressions were often unfair and partially based on his mood at the time or things he was going through. Rarely, though, had he changed his mind about a mountain range once he'd established its quirks and rhythms in his mind.
"The Tetons were flashy, cold, bloodless, Eurotrash mountains -- too spectacular for their own good. They were the mountain equivalent of supermodels.
"The Gros Ventres were a rich graveyard of human history -- both American Indian and early white -- that held their secrets close and refused to accommodate the the modern era.
"The Wind River Mountains were what the Tetons wanted to be: towering, incredibly wealthy with scenery and wildlife, vast, and spiritual.
"The Bighorns, Joe's mountains in northern Wyoming . . . were comfortable, rounded and wry -- a retired All-Pro linebacker who still had it.
"But the Sierra Madre was still a mystery. He couldn't yet warm to the mountains, and he fought against being intimidated by their danger, isolation, and heartless beauty. , , , These mountains were like a glimpse of a beautiful and exotic woman passing in a car, a gun on her lap, who refused to make eye contact."
-- C. J. Box, in his novel Nowhere to Run.
