Who among us hasn't yearned to live a carefree, self-sufficient life in the wilderness, far from traffic, televangelism, election blather, cell phones, Paris Hilton updates and rap music, among other daily inflictions here in dense America? Who among us hasn't thought wistfully of escaping to the frontier, any frontier, to hunt, fish, trap, gather and generally be organic and at peace? Who among us hasn't decided to do all that maybe next year?

Heimo Korth did it 30 years ago. And he still is doing what many have thought and wished they could, and what only a few have actually tried, most of who failed rather miserably or tragically. A one-time barfly in native Wisconsin, Heimo lives, with his family, more remotely in Alaska than anyone else. The Final Frontiersman (2004) by James Campbell documents Heimo's fascinating journey and metamorphosis from the Midwest to a cabin on the Coleen River in northeastern Alaska. It does more than that. It affords the reader a look into the necessary mindset, personality, skills and privations attendant to living on a subsistence basis far from the madding crowd. Its 303 pages tell of the unique dimensions of Alaska and of the Alaskan character-economic, social, cultural and meteorological. It gives considerable pause to the dreamers among us-wannabe "white Indians" (John McPhee)-who think they can cut the vastness, isolation, Diptera, temperature, myriad dangers and unforgiveness of true wilderness. And it acknowledges that bush life for Native and immigrant alike is predicated on pragmatism and a litany of axioms, e.g., dress in layers, beware the overflow, stay dry, drink lots of water, keep busy, don't overexert, avoid dark ice, don't take unnecessary chances and, again, stay dry.

James Campbell is Heimo Korth's cousin-a distant first cousin geographically and by 27 years of separation prior to their meeting in 2002. To make the reacquaintance happen, and to learn and draft his relative's story, he spent time with an initially reluctant Heimo at his main cabin in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (by rare permit from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), reaching the place courtesy of a good bush pilot and good weather. In fact, the author stayed in a tent near the cabin where trapper Heimo resided with his wife Edna and two daughters, who considered their cheechako guest in the yard to be a suitable first line of defense against possible marauding bears.

Campbell witnessed the foresight, strength, familial bonds, attitude, and caution that has kept his surprisingly affable cousin from turning back-nay, racing back-to indoor plumbing, grocery stores, cable television, processed sugar and other of the prevailing seductions and softenings of civilization. That is not to say that Heimo is an ascetic or that he thrives on reclusion in what Robert Service called "the great alone." To the contrary, Heimo is quite social, admitting that he needs people and because "nobody is a wolverine." Heimo, as Campbell reveals, is a man of fierce determinism, stamina, simple tastes, "emotional sturdiness," confidence in his self-reliance and personable nature-Huck Finn with years added and romantic notions chiseled away. Those qualities lent themselves to acceptance by the Natives, sourdoughs and bush rats who helped him when he first broached the Last Frontier. The "Alaska Kid" proved tenacious and lucky-requisites of sustained human life on the taiga.

Heimo's luck included his survival of such axiom-testing experiences as being stalked by a polar bear, being in an Eskimo boat harpooning Aghvook (bowhead whale), being chased by a cold war Russian coast guard boat when hunting Au-vuq (walrus) unwittingly close to Siberia, and being dunked by capsized boats, crumbling cutbanks and sweeper trees.

His best luck, however, was winning the heart of Edna, a Yupik Eskimo. Asking her father for her hand in marriage was a bit more problematic. Not for $10 million, Heimo was told. Fortunately, the suitor's good intentions, persistence and 25 grayling, some moose meat, a moose stomach and a wolverine skin overcame his soon-to-be father-in-law's resolve. In Edna, he found a mate willing to help cut, hew and shovel a life out of Alaska's interior-a land formerly and occupied mainly, periodically and for millennia by the G'wichen, peripatetic Athabaskan "people of the caribou," the oldest culture in Alaska.

Very sadly, there was a limit to Heimo's luck.

On the other hand, my luck was finding this book. It is mainly about Heimo Korth, but it also is about the Last Frontier's recent past, its awkwardly dynamic present and wherein fits someone living gratefully the anachronistic life of a wilderness trapper-a G'wichen life. James Campbell's first book is not adventure story, drama or romance. It is a magnificently crafted, spellbinding documentary, and my favorite Alaska book since McPhee s Coming Into the Country (1977).

The Final Frontiersman was published by Atria Books; it lists for $25.00.