| Looking over the shoulder and getting into the head of a Pacific Crest Trail throughhiker... |
As a university librarian, I've found that walking through the exhibit hall of the American Library Assn annual convention is a bit like strolling through downtown Tijuana. Hawkers of library-related software, library shelving, computer systems, you-name-it -- and hundreds of publisher's representatives -- are doing everything they can to get your attention.
So, last month, during the most recent convention in Anaheim, California, when some publisher's rep shoved a copy of The Cactus Eaters in my hands with a 20-second "elevator speech," about it being "a wonderful new book about a couple's hike of the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada," I'm thinking -- "Well, how interesting could that be?" They're trying to "get a buzz going," on the book, while I'm more interested in getting to the next programming session on Copyright Law or Use of Social Networking Software at the CIA, DIA, Dept of State and Library of Congress, etc.
At the end of the day, however, I rely on my tested methodology regarding which books to keep and which to quickly get rid of (typically by leaving them on end-tables in the hotel lobby). I skim the blurb on the back cover and read a few paragraphs on three or four random pages. My reaction to this one? "Wow, this is really good narrative writing!"
There are a lot of books out there that promise a good story, but -- more often than not -- the writing usually doesn't convey the content well-enough to allow the reader to develop and maintain a mental picture clear enough to carry it through to completion. But, Dan White's account of his part of the "Lois and Clark Expedition" is *very* well-written. I, like a lot of readers, was quickly hooked and found myself absorbed by the details, personal reflections and pace of the story he tells. Soon, I found myself looking forward to time to slowly read it -- at night at the hotel, on the cross-country flight home, and for a few weeks of couple-of-pages-a-night reading at home just before turning out the nightlight.
It's clear that White wrote a first draft based on his trail journal, then wrote multiple other drafts, adding details as they came to memory. Then, later went back and added a *lot* of research content regarding the political, natural and geographic history of various segments of the trail. Finally, judging by the smoothness of the flow of the text, I would guess he went through the manuscript a few dozen times to get the timing, narrative voice and underlying themes just right. This isn't easy to do, as works like this tend to read more like a Botany student's master's thesis; it usually takes years to get a book "just right," like White did.
The book has multiple themes: on the surface, it's the tale of two young, naive journalists who enjoy each other's company, and -- on a bit of a whim -- decide to drop-out of the work-world to take-on the self-imposed challenge of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. Another theme is that of the reliance that loving partners have on each other, whether acknowledged or not, and how such relationships are sometimes flexible and forgiving, and at other times, tenuous and easily broken.
Dan White writes of his relationship with his trail-partner and lover, "Allison," with a brutal honesty. He writes of his own verbal abuse, his fear of being found-out (by her) to be an inept, incompetent and unworthy human being, of her strength versus his own weaknesses and fearfulness. He portrays her as a beautiful, ideal friend, lover and partner; a companion with a joyful personality, and a deep emotional reserve and fearlessness that got them both through some really tough spots. Time and again he refers, in amazement, at how she powered her way through her own physical pain and his whining and complaints to move them along.
There's something about the challenge of the open-road or the open-trail that is -- at one time or another in our lives -- attractive to some of us. We don't know why we have to do it, but we do -- and are forever changed by the doing. When I was eighteen, right out of high school, I left my high school sweetheart and the life that staying home and marrying her would have entailed, and hitch-hiked from my hometown in Florida, up the east coast to North Bay, Ontario, then across Canada to Vancouver, British Columbia and back across the border, down to Portland, across to Salt lake City, St. Louis, down to Nashville and Atlanta and finally back home. Like "Allison" and Dan White, the hundreds of people I met and the experiences of that journey changed me -- in ways that I wouldn't understand until many years later. So, without giving away the ending, I'll simply say that how their relationship ends-up is typical of the post-trail let-down one feels after such an adventure.
I enjoyed how White doesn't so much as "write," as he paints with words, images of the physical and emotional journey he took with "Allison." I wish that he had included many of the photographs that he alluded to in the text, and I would love to have read an Afterword of some 30-40 pages by "Allison" regarding her thoughts and views of Dan White, the journey and what the experience came to mean in her life. It's obvious that she gave so much to Dan and to the journey; it is also obvious that Dan could never have made the trip without her -- and, thus I hope she's getting half the royalties. (smile)
Bottom line -- an honest, well-written, well-crafted book that details the hardships endured by those who take on the challenge to one's endurance and sanity to hike the Pacific Coast Trail.
R. Neil Scott / Middle Tennessee State University
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5 Rating
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