Book Club With Myself

I wish I had time to be in a book club.  You know... Tuesday night dinner, wine, discussion about a great book with a few really smart, funny women...  Ah.  Sounds lovely.

Sigh...

But, alas.  I don't have that kind of life at the moment.  And so, I figured I'd discuss with myself a couple of my latest reads that have, in some way, been poignant for me.

In advance of my trip to Colorado, which will be the first time I've gone hiking in 2012, I am thinking about hiking books.  Since I was very young (I wrote in a journal about hiking when I was 12- probably a decade before I actually went on a hike), I have felt some sort of pull to the outdoors.  I really haven't found the source of the voice inside me that keeps telling me I want to be in the woods...  And I haven't been able to hear her in a focused enough way that I know exactly what I'm supposed to be doing in the woods.  But I know that I have a soulful need to DO in the outdoors.  Since I'm not really a stationery kind of person, I know that I'm supposed to be doing something.  Not like Thoreau- living alone in the middle of nowhere observing things.  I'm supposed to be changing and growing... something... using a connection to the woods.  I think that's what draws me to memoirs and biographies of ordinary people who have lived through extraordinary experiences with nature.  I think I'm destined to do that somehow, someday.

And so...  AWOL on the Appalachian Trail is exactly my kind of read.  The writer answered his own voice- responded to his own need- and said YES to a 2,181 mile solo trek of the AT.  Nothing about his life gave him permission to do it...  He had a full time job, a wife, two young daughters, and a mound of responsibilities which would lead most people to say "Yes, fine, I will hike the AT one day."  But he knew, for whatever reason, he needed to do it now.  He had some learning to do, and the only path to what he needed was the AT- the entire length of it- at this exact time.  Some people would call that irresponsible.  Many people would call it selfish.  A few might applaud him.  Inside, though, I think a great number of people would be jealous- jealous that he had the audacity to honor his own voice, his own needs, his own SOUL- and head out for a stroll.

He seemed to sum up his longing with this passage:

     Our vision becomes so narrow that risk is trying a new brand of cereal, and adventure is watching a new sitcom.  Over time I have elevated my opinion of nonconformity nearly to the level of an obligation.  We should have a bias toward doing activities that we don't normally do to keep loose the moorings of society.
     Hiking the AT is "pointless."  What life is not "pointless"?  Is it not pointless to work paycheck to paycheck just to conform?  Hiking the AT before joining the workforce was an opportunity not taken.  Doing it in retirement would be sensible; doing it at this time in my life is abnormal, and therein lay the appeal.  I want to make my life less ordinary.

I must have read that paragraph 80 times... " I want to make my life less ordinary."  That statement resonated into my soul with a loud, screaming, endless echo and I actually said "exactly."  Out loud.  On an airplane.  Because that's what I want.  I am drawn to extraordinary experiences.  At my own expense sometimes, yes, but I am.

Equally as riveting, but for different reasons, was Wild by Cheryl Strayed.  She grabbed my interest for a couple of reasons.  First, she is a woman solo hiker on a very rugged, very desolate, very dangerous trail (the Pacific Crest- over 2600 miles long, crossing 7 mountain ranges, from the US-Mexico border in California to Canada above Washington State).  Second, she is absolutely CLUELESS about backpacking.  In fact, she had never backpacked in her life until the day she set foot on her 1,100 mile Pacific Crest Trail journey.  Third, she was at a serious crossroads in her life- probably "rock bottom", and was using this trip to turn her life around.  I was curious, then, whether 1) she would survive at all, 2) she would stick with the trip, and 3) she would turn her life around.  Obviously, she makes it- since she wrote a book about it.  And obviously, she turns her life around, since she is now a New York Times bestselling author.  But what I was most struck by in this memoir was her honesty.  She is shockingly forthright about the history of her life that led her to this 1,100-mile trip.  She's equally as honest about her thoughts along the way, her pull toward her old habits, and her reluctance to give up her various addictions.  Since I've been processing my own "honesty"- the topic of an earlier post- I became such a cheerleader for the author, of her as a hiker on her journey, and of her as a writer, a human being, and a woman.  She took huge risks being as forthcoming as she was about some very ugly things in her life.  She doesn't apologize or excuse her mistakes.  She's not ashamed or embarrassed of them.  She owns them in the same way she owns everything else about herself.  We all have ugliness in our lives, and many of us try to pretend we don't.  I honor her for throwing herself out there and bringing us all into her space where authenticity rules.  I like that place.

So I guess I haven't totally processed why these books are so fascinating for me.  I have read *tons* of books about "extraordinary-ness," many of them related to mountaineering and outdoor pursuits, but not always...  Some of my favorites include:
Adrift, Steven Callahan
Crazy for the Storm, Norman Ollestad
Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why: Laurence Gonzales
Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer
Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer
It's Not About the Bike, Lance Armstrong
Lone Survivor, Marcus Luttrell
The Long Walk, Slavomir Rawicz,
The Survivors Club: The Secrets and Science that Could Save Your Life, Ben Sherwood
To the Edge: A Man, Death Valley, and the Mystery of Endurance, Kirk Johnson
Touching the Void, Joe Simpson

I don't want to live through something like any of these people- I don't want to write my own bestseller about some harrowing experience.  But I guess I like knowing that so many people have survived.  I think I'd draw from their strength if I ever needed it.  I hope I am every bit as capable, as strong, as humble, and as smart as all of these folks.  Perhaps it has something to do with miracles.  I don't follow a religion, and haven't defined god for myself, but the fact that these folks have done what they have done is as close to a miracle as I'll allow myself to believe.  I love knowing that WE ENDURE in spite of it all.  I love knowing that people have flourished against the odds.  Because when things are tough at mile 20 in a marathon, or hour 20 alone with my kids, or day 20 of overtime at work, or, hopefully, year 20 of my marriage, I will have examples of people who stuck with it.  And isn't that something to hold on to?