I’m grateful first to my parents: Don Enger, who like Teddy Roosevelt believes in the strenuous life and in vivid narration; and Wilma Enger, who read us Robert Louis Stevenson before we could talk, and who writes better letters than anyone since the Apostle Paul. Both grew up in North Dakota and built into their children a westerly tilt and a love of wide places.
Lee, my oldest brother, and my sister, Lizabeth, have bolstered me without condition and given me examples of courage, steadfastness, and the pursuit of adventure. My brother Lin has spent years with me in the trenches of writing discipline and has gently taught me more of the craft than anyone else.
Thanks are also due to my editors at Minnesota Public Radio, who sliced away my adjectives for all those years and became my friends. Rachel Reabe and Mike Edgerly read early drafts; their encouragement was salt and light.
It’s my pleasure to work with Paul Cirone, who, flanked by the brilliant crew at the Aaron Priest Agency, has been tireless in bringing this book to an audience. Elisabeth Schmitz made me welcome at Grove/Atlantic from the first day; she edited these pages with surpassing insight, humor, and joy in the work.
At last, this book arose from family. My wife Robin heard every sentence aloud—openhanded with praise, she also recognized before I did when something went amiss. And without the attentive ears and irresistible ideas of our sons, Ty and John, poor Reuben would’ve been dull as a plank, and Sunny Sundown would’ve never saddled up.