My rating: 3 of 5 stars
When I read this book in 1994, the plucky and somewhat dismissive semi-hermit recalled to me Walden and its author Henry David Thoreau. Like Thoreau, this man had to make it town for supplies, etc. occasionally. However, for this living anachronism it was a rocky trek, not the "stroll" it was for Thoreau. Like a connection to the Transcendentalist Movement, this man was proud of his self-sufficiency and the study in solitude and self-reliance compelled me to gift it to the only like-minded person I knew: Ernest Mann:
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