Edward Dolnick's Down the Great Unknown depicts the "last epic journey on American soil," John Wesley Powell's exploration of the Grand Canyon and the fulminating, carnivorous Colorado River. The book, a model of precision, clarity, and serene passion, outshines, arguably, its bestselling brother-volume, Stephen Ambrose's Undaunted Courage.

On May 24, 1869, Powell, an ambitious, autocratic, one-armed Civil War veteran and amateur scientist, and a casually recruited crew of nine--without a lick of white water experience--embarked from an obscure railroad stop in the Wyoming Territory to travel through a region "scarcely better known than Atlantis." Ninety-nine days, 1,000 miles and nearly 500 rapids later, six of the men came ashore in Arizona--the first humans to run the waters of the Grand Canyon. Dolnick tells this story of courage, naiveté, hardship, and petty squabbling simply and authoritatively using entries from the men's journals, deft overviews (we always know where we are), and short science, history, and psychology lessons, as well as the prodigious knowledge of present-day river runners and his own first-hand observations. His prose carries the day: Powell looks like a "stick of beef jerky adorned with whiskers," the boats are "walnut shells," which in rapids are little better than "ladybugs caught in a hose's blast" or "drunks trying to negotiate a revolving door," while the river is a "taunting bully," a "colossal mugger," a "sumo wrestler smothering a kitten," and a notable rock formation looks like what might happen if "Edward Gorey had designed the Bat Cave."

Down the Great Unknown brushes against perfection. This is history written as it should be--and too rarely is: enthusiastic, rigorous, painterly, gloriously free of both pedantry and hyperbole. --H. O'Billovitch

From Publishers Weekly
owell led his band of stalwart trappers and ex-soldiers down the Green River in Wyoming Territory, heading for the last bit of terra incognita in the U.S.: the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon. The expedition had plenty of supplies, but the wrong type of boats for shooting rapids. Moreover, their inexperience with rapids cost them one of the boats and many provisions. There was little game to supplement their rapidly dwindling food supply. And being the first to chart the river, they didn't know what lay beyond each twist. These handicaps, along with deadly river rocks, soaring canyon walls and one-armed Powell's impressive feat of scaling them to measure their height, make for a remarkable journey. Unfortunately, Dolnick does the story a disservice in overwriting the expedition's slower moments. He frequently overexplains, and he never meets a simile he doesn't like. Every description, no matter how effective, is carried too far, suggesting Dolnick doesn't trust his story or his readers: "rapids... do not murmur. They rumble. They roar. They crash. The sound evokes a thunderstorm just overhead, a jet skimming the ground, a runaway train.... The message is worse than the sound itself the roar of a rapid is a proclamation of danger as clear as a giant's bellowed curse in a fairy tale." After passages like that, readers may want to jump ship, or like Powell's band, they can struggle through and emerge battered but illuminated. Photos and illus. (Oct. 2)Forecast: Will a 15-city NPR campaign, six-city author tour and big-time advertising help the story trump the writing? Yes. The adventure is that good.Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
On May 24, 1869, John Wesley Powell and a band of nine volunteer frontiersmen embarked from Green River Station, Wyoming Territory, in four wooden boats. The one-armed Union veteran and geology professor set out to explore the uncharted Green and Colorado rivers and pass through the mysterious Grand Canyon, reaching his destination at the mouth of the Virgin River in Arizona in late August. To research this journey, former Boston Globe science writer Dolnick relied on Powell's river and postexpedition diaries and his crew's journals. These accounts reveal the friction between the overbearing Powell and his independent mountain men, which resulted in defections and the mysterious disappearance of three crew members. Dolnick's study offers excellent descriptions of the riverine obstacles, the inadequacy of the boats employed, the back-breaking tasks of lining and portaging, the constant threat of death from starvation and hostiles, and the wildly speculative press accounts. The author's liberal use of corroborative testimony from contemporary whitewater professionals may, however, prove distracting. Dolnick's concluding chapter shows how Powell's eventual campaign of self-promotion both secured for him a place in history and effectively eclipsed (by design) the amazing contributions of his men. Recommended for Western collections and all libraries. [For a fictional account of Powell's sojourn, see John Vernon's The Last Canyon, p. 144. Ed.] John Carver Edwards, Univ. of Georgia Libs., Athen.- John Carver Edwards, Univ. of Georgia Libs., Athens Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
John Wesley Powell wrote about his descent of the Colorado River canyons in 1869 in Exploration of the Colorado River, now considered a classic in discovery annals. Dolnick, a science journalist who has rafted down the Grand, turns in a most estimable rendition of that storied expedition. It skillfully integrates the notes and journals of expedition members with technical insight about the perils of roiling whitewater. At present, some rapids, in particular those not affected by the building of dams, are nearly identical, boulder-for-boulder, to what Powell and his nine men encountered--with the difference that they could not know what dangers lay ahead, as today's rafting guides do. The expedition's embodiment of adventure and courage gives it a timelessness that Dolnick positively reinforces with well-detailed characterizations of the expedition members and their motivations and dissensions. Dolnick's account will no doubt be popular, and libraries should consider ordering as well the recent full-scale biography of Powell, A River Running West, by Donald Worster [BKL Ja 1 & 15 01]. Gilbert Taylor
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

FROM OUR EDITORS

The Barnes & Noble Review from Discover Great New Writers
We dare you to read this book and not find yourself reaching over the arm of your chair for an oar while you're at it! An absolutely breathtaking description of the one-armed Civil War veteran John Wesley Powell, his ragtag group of mountain men, and their journey down the Grand Canyon in the 19th century, Edward Dolnick's story is a gripping adventure tale.

The men's plan was a simple one: to explore and make a geological study of the last great mysterious expanse of the American Southwest -- that portion of the map, stretching through the Wyoming, Utah, and Arizona territories -- that was still simply marked "unexplored." Beginning in four wooden rowboats at Green River Station, Wyoming Territory, Powell and his men followed the Green River south to where it joined the Grand River; the two rivers combined to form the mighty Colorado River, on which they would ride to the infinitely alluring Grand Canyon.

It would be impossible to overstate the degree to which Powell's plan was an awe-inspiring leap of faith. He had no way of knowing what perils the unmapped rivers might hold -- 99 days later, six half-starved wretches in just two boats came ashore near Callville, Arizona. A true epic adventure, Down the Great Unknown is as much a tale of human spirit and endurance as it is a thrilling journey back to an extraordinary time in America's history, when geologists first began to question the literal interpretation of Genesis, because "to study the age of rocks was to question the Rock of Ages." (Winter 2002 Selection)

FROM THE PUBLISHER

On May 24, 1869, a one-armed Civil War veteran named John Wesley Powell and a ragtag band of nine mountain men embarked on the last great quest in the American West. No one had ever explored the fabled Grand Canyon; to adventurers of that era it was a region almost as mysterious as Atlantis—and as perilous.

The ten men set out from Green River Station, Wyoming Territory, downt he mighty Colorado in four wooden rowboats. Ninety-nine days later, just six half-starved wretches came ashore near Callville, Arizona.

Drawing on rarely-examined diaries and journals, Down the Great Unknown is the first book to tell the full, dramatic story of the Powell expedition. Lewis and Clark opened the West in 1803, as memorably recreated in Stephen Ambrose's bestseller Undaunted Courage; six decades later Powell and his scruffy band aimed to resolve the West's last mystery. A brilliant narrative, a thrilling journey, a cast of memorable heroes—all these mark Down the Great Unknown as the true story of the last epic adventure on American soil.

SYNOPSIS

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On May 24, 1869 a one-armed Civil War veteran named John Wesley Powell and a ragtag band of mine mountain men embarked on the last great quest in the American West.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

Powell led his band of stalwart trappers and ex-soldiers down the Green River in Wyoming Territory, heading for the last bit of terra incognita in the U.S.: the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon. The expedition had plenty of supplies, but the wrong type of boats for shooting rapids. Moreover, their inexperience with rapids cost them one of the boats and many provisions. There was little game to supplement their rapidly dwindling food supply. And being the first to chart the river, they didn't know what lay beyond each twist. These handicaps, along with deadly river rocks, soaring canyon walls and one-armed Powell's impressive feat of scaling them to measure their height, make for a remarkable journey. Unfortunately, Dolnick does the story a disservice in overwriting the expedition's slower moments. He frequently overexplains, and he never meets a simile he doesn't like. Every description, no matter how effective, is carried too far, suggesting Dolnick doesn't trust his story or his readers: "rapids... do not murmur. They rumble. They roar. They crash. The sound evokes a thunderstorm just overhead, a jet skimming the ground, a runaway train.... The message is worse than the sound itself the roar of a rapid is a proclamation of danger as clear as a giant's bellowed curse in a fairy tale." After passages like that, readers may want to jump ship, or like Powell's band, they can struggle through and emerge battered but illuminated. Photos and illus. (Oct. 2) Forecast: Will a 15-city NPR campaign, six-city author tour and big-time advertising help the story trump the writing? Yes. The adventure is that good. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

On May 24, 1869, John Wesley Powell and a band of nine volunteer frontiersmen embarked from Green River Station, Wyoming Territory, in four wooden boats. The one-armed Union veteran and geology professor set out to explore the uncharted Green and Colorado rivers and pass through the mysterious Grand Canyon, reaching his destination at the mouth of the Virgin River in Arizona in late August. To research this journey, former Boston Globe science writer Dolnick relied on Powell's river and postexpedition diaries and his crew's journals. These accounts reveal the friction between the overbearing Powell and his independent mountain men, which resulted in defections and the mysterious disappearance of three crew members. Dolnick's study offers excellent descriptions of the riverine obstacles, the inadequacy of the boats employed, the back-breaking tasks of lining and portaging, the constant threat of death from starvation and hostiles, and the wildly speculative press accounts. The author's liberal use of corroborative testimony from contemporary whitewater professionals may, however, prove distracting. Dolnick's concluding chapter shows how Powell's eventual campaign of self-promotion both secured for him a place in history and effectively eclipsed (by design) the amazing contributions of his men. Recommended for Western collections and all libraries. [For a fictional account of Powell's sojourn, see John Vernon's The Last Canyon, p. 144. Ed.] John Carver Edwards, Univ. of Georgia Libs., Athens Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews