"There was no way I was going to keep my pants on with a man who’d seen Michelle Shocked three times."
And that’s why I read the book, that quote right there, excerpted in a review in the "New York Times".
I’ll admit I was interested because of the adventure angle, young twentysomething decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, alone. But that’s not why I loved this book, why I could not put it down, why I spent all weekend reading it.
Cheryl Strayed, the author, is searching for a lesson.
I didn’t find one.
But I got a lot of insight into the female mind. And it was fascinating to see life from the perspective of another, whose upbringing was not the same. We’re all too often living in a cocoon. We read about people richer or poorer, victims of tragedy, but not those just like us but…different.
Well, not identical. Cheryl Strayed grew up the daughter of a teenage parent. Well, her mother was eighteen when she gave birth to Cheryl’s older sister. And a brother came soon after Cheryl. And not long after that their mother left their abusive father and eventually married a construction worker and the whole family became modern day homesteaders, in the wilds of Minnesota.
But Cheryl was the queen of her high school class. She went to college.
And then her mother died.
If my father had died when I was twenty one I don’t know how I’d have coped. I wonder how I’ll do when my mother dies, and I’m nearly sixty.
Cheryl’s mother’s death pushes her over the edge. She starts stepping out on her young husband, who is only good to her. She even tries heroin. She doesn’t get hooked, but I’d never make that choice. Then again, I wasn’t in my early twenties at wit’s end, with no family keeping me in line. Hell, Cheryl’s mother dies and everybody scatters to the wind.
And a couple of year later, having gotten a divorce, Cheryl decides on a whim to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, from Mojave through the Sierras up into Oregon.
But this is not "Into Thin Air". This is not a nail-biter, woman against elements, fighting for her very life. Rather Cheryl is ill-prepared, she overpacks, she wants to quit, she loses six toenails, her feet continue to hurt.
But she soldiers on.
Oh, she wavers. But just when she’s ready to give up, someone always spurs her on, inadvertently, without really knowing it. Ain’t that life. Human interaction makes all the difference.
But Cheryl wanted to be alone. She has a number of chances to hike with others, she usually passes.
And while she hikes, and she gets it right, there are few moments of bliss amongst the boredom and the pain, she fills us in on her life, how she got here.
And that’s what’s so interesting.
She tells us about the people she sleeps with, and why. Despite the ravings of self-styled sexperts like Tila Tequila, males are clueless as to what really goes through women’s minds.
I always wonder what makes women take off their clothes. Oh, you can be one of those aggressive bastards who force them to, but despite a plethora of documentation that women are demure delicate flowers, they like to do it. What inspires them?
I’ve got to tell you, if I went camping I wouldn’t pack a roll of condoms.
But Cheryl did.
And there is one moment of danger…personal danger, not elements danger, a wayward male.
But the sun shines on Cheryl. She makes it through.
And her documentation of the people she meets, and there aren’t that many, is also interesting. What kind of people undertake such an adventure, are they immune to issues of safety?
Now this all happened back in 1995, before the ubiquity of cell phones, never mind satellite phones and other devices that ensure that you’re never truly alone. Cheryl was inspired to write the book after visiting the ice cream joint she finished at in Oregon with her children fifteen years hence.
She’s looking back, but like I said, even though she’s searching for a lesson, for answers, I didn’t really see any. She recovers emotionally from her mother’s death and her divorce, but really, she would have recovered from those anyway.
But why do we do the things we do? Get old enough and you marvel at some of your choices.
Then again, too many people play it safe.
Cheryl Strayed did not play it safe.
P.S. Reading is a commitment. You’ve got to disengage and pay attention. But when done right, you enter a whole ‘nother world. Kind of like a great record, at least those of yore which were not background but doors to an alternative universe. You can bat people over the head or you can entice them with quality and word of mouth. That’s how "Wild" made it, the buzz is deafening. Assuming you’re paying attention. Don’t let it turn you off. The great thing about this book is it’s personal. And personal, when done right, is universal.
