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Going it Alone: Wild by Cheryl Strayed

I have been reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed and have found in her a fellow-traveler in more ways than one.  Not just someone who felt she had to go somewhere for spiritual exercise — in her case, a 1000-mile trek by herself on foot alone along the spine of the Sierras — but someone who had to deal with that old problem, life not happening the way you want it too, in a TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE WAY. 

It’s About Us and Our People, Our Tribe

I’m not talking about getting a speeding ticket, people, I’m talking about people dying and/or leaving you, on purpose, for reasons that you simply cannot fathom.  At the wrong time.  Without, apparently, considering what their leaving could do to you.

It’s like that song by Randy VanWarmer from my youth, as in “you left me just when I needed you most.”

Okay, I’ve Stopped Crying

This is a big issue, these people who leave. In this well-known memoir of wilderness journalism, Strayed’s journey was undertaken to help her recover after her mother died suddenly and unexpectedly when the writer was in her early 20’s.  She left Minnesota, kicked heroin, and went on a unthinkable journey by foot, pretty much from the Mexican border to the Canadian, traveling along the spine of the Sierra Nevada on the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s an awesome journey, from a personal standpoint and from a naturalistic one, and particularly noteworthy for Strayed, both a woman traveling alone and a newcomer to backpacking.

It’s probably not surprising that she lost all her toenails and went through a pair of boots on the journey.

People Let You Down

What do you do?

Strayed will give you the answer. Not to forgive, per se, not to forget, never. But to walk through the pain, to accept your limitations and allow them to lead you to your strengths.

Your Strengths Are What You Have When Everyone Is Gone

If you are to take Wild as a guidebook, I suppose you must challenge yourself and take care of yourself and prove to yourself that you are worthy just as you are, no makeup, no embellishments, no relying on other people, learn to police your own shortcomings, and find your own strength and your own meaning.

Because Strayed does just that. She finds herself on this trip, she walks from the Mojave desert to Oregon, and in the process, she learns to operate her water filter bottle, to measure out each ounce of gear, usefulness against weight, to judge the weather and people’s characters. One morning she wakes up covered by frogs. Strayed deals with dangerous looking bow hunters and the ghostly aura surrounding Crater Lake.

If she were Spanish speaking, we’d call her La Chingona.

Strayed developed her savy about relationships to write her famous advice column, “Dear Sugar,” called by Bustle “probably the greatest advice column of all time,” and in which she dispensed slam-dunk wake up and smell the coffee advice for love-lorn lonelies and others. Miss Lonelyhearts could have taken lessons. Strayed became a leader of writer’s workshops and mentor to new writers and overall hero. But first, before all that, she hiked the Pacific Coast Trail. She took a few detours, she got a ride in a car at one point … but that doesn’t matter. It’s not how you do it, it’s that you did it. That message has resonated with a lot of readers, and it makes this book not just a standout outdoor memoir, but a standout spiritual recovery book as well.

Follow @CherylStrayed on X

Annotated Bibliography:

Cheryl Strayed’s book is literature, not a trail guide, people. Get over the fact that she didn’t do the whole thing. From Penina Crocker on TheTrek.co.

3 thoughts on “Going it Alone: Wild by Cheryl Strayed”

  1. Also, love Cheryl Strayed! We have similar issues with our fathers, like eerily similar. I was thrown out when I was 16 as well and sent to live with my maternal grandmother; my dad, like yours had a beau that he married soon after said throwing out. My life changed because of that one action.

    1. Susan Taylor Brand

      I noticed that you wrote it was at the age of 16. It seems to me that it’s just such an awful age to have something like that happen. In my case it was almost crippling, because I was spoiled, and my dad was the caregiver parent. I have been working on a memoir, reaching for forgiveness, and think now that I mistook proximity for character, with him. I though of him as a great guy because he was there — but when he wasn’t there, I didn’t know who he was anymore. And I kindof still don’t. I’m also wondering about other dads, and the messages our society sends them about how they should live, how they should parent.

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