![]() Of course, the question I most wanted answered was how.Īt the beginning of her journey Strayed imagined she would spend her hike thinking, deeply contemplating life and mortality and her mother’s death. And yet, it’s obvious that by the end Strayed is healed. There were also blisters, black toes, clogged water filters, lost shoes, busted camp stoves, and wet sleeping bags. There was unforgiving terrain, poor signage, empty water tanks, rattlesnakes, and icy landslides. To say she was underprepared would be a wild understatement. After four years of grieving, her divorce newly finalized, Strayed embarked on an 1,100-mile trek along the Pacific Crest Trail (the PCT), which stretches in its entirety from the California/Mexico border all the way to British Columbia (Strayed hiked a stretch from the Mojave desert to Washington). Her marriage fell apart and she became briefly addicted to heroin. When Strayed’s mother died of cancer, her family fragmented and scattered. The memoirs I choose for the blog are usually written by the people dying, not the people grieving, so this was a new adventure for me too. My local book club decided to pick a memoir for this month’s read: Wild by Cheryl Strayed. ![]()
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