I’ve read several recent reviews of Wild by Cheryl Strayed. I thought it sounded good and added it to my mental list of books to read some day. Since we all know the actual Mount To-Be-Read is vast, I’ve begun a virtual Mt. TBR and Wild went into that stack.
Then this weekend, out-of-town friends came to visit and one of them had just finished Wild. He loaned it to me.
I figured it was meant to be and I started it right away, even ahead of other books that arrived the same day from Amazon that I’d been looking forward to reading. I also paused my current book in progress to read Wild.
I love it.
Strayed’s memoir is a beautiful and harsh tale of her 1995 hike of the Pacific Crest Trail, the trail that runs from Mexico to Canada, through California, Oregon, and Washington.
Interwoven with the narrative of her hike are tales of what drove her to backpack alone through the unforgiving wilderness: the loss of her mother when Strayed was 22, the marriage Strayed destroyed in her grief, and the demons she wrestled with through it all. Each section, whether hike or propellant, is a polished bead that make this tale a beautiful linked chain.
There is some rough language. Strayed uses the words to convey the depth of her anguish.
I’m about 3/4s of the way through. She’s about to leave California behind for Oregon. I’m as eager to continue this literary journey with her as she likely was to complete the actual hike.
I highly recommend it!