Going to Extremes

by Joe McGinniss

This is the fourth edition of a work that always has been controversial in Alaska. Yet, it is an important and highly readable classic work that captures a portrait frozen in time of a raw state in turmoil during the oil boom. McGinnis went north to find out if there was anything left of the "last frontier." He found "mind-bending contradictions," as a previous publisher put it--greed, waste, addictions, and racism, among other things, that contrasted with an awesome untamed natural beauty and an honest, open, and independent spirit of the people.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, Adventure, Memoir, Politics

288 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1980

About the author

Joe McGinniss was an American journalist, non-fiction writer and novelist. He first came to prominence with the best-selling The Selling of the President 1968 which described the marketing of then-presidential candidate Richard Nixon. It spent more than six months on best-seller lists. He is popularly known for his trilogy of bestselling true crime books — Fatal Vision, Blind Faith and Cruel Doubt — which were adapted into several TV miniseries and movies. Over the course of forty years, McGinniss published twelve books.

Reviews

[Steven Z. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Recently I was in a bookstore in Anchorage, Alaska and came across a book by Joe McGinniss entitled, GOING TO EXTREMES. Having read his THE SELLING OF THE PRESIDENT 1968 about the attempt to repackage Richard Nixon for the 1968 presidential campaign, and CRUEL DOUBT which centers on a society murder in a small North Carolina town in 1988, I was intrigued. After reading the introduction to the new edition written in 2010, as the original was published in 1981, I learned that McGinniss had thanked Sarah Palin for the inspiration to revisit Alaska after the 2008 Republican Convention and how the state had impacted him in the mid-1970s. The book itself is part memoir, geographical guide, and history of the 49th state that was admitted to the United States sixteen years before what McGinniss describes in his own thought provoking and humorous style as the transformation of Alaska due to the domination of “big oil.”

A few weeks ago while standing below a section of the Alaska pipeline outside Fairbanks I learned that 85% of the state’s revenue is a result of oil and that each Alaskan resident receives a check for $2-3,000 a year as a tax rebate depending on the whims of politicians and oil production. The money pays college tuition and numerous other costs for Alaska’s citizens and one cannot imagine where Alaska would be today without the money stream from “big oil.” McGinniss’ main motivation in visiting Alaska in 1975 was to experience the awesome beauty of its primal wilderness and mountains, for what he feared might be the last days of the last frontier America would ever have.

McGinniss would spend a year traveling and living among the native Eskimos and local citizens trying to get to the core of what it meant to be an Alaskan native, and those characters who settled in Alaska by choice for many diverse and unusual reasons. The book describes a state that in many parts seems to be a world where things remain just as they had been forty or four hundred years before. However, with the political and economic pressures fostered by the Alaskan pipeline they were about to change radically as I witnessed on my recent visit a few weeks ago.

The reader accompanies the author as he crosses the state from an amazing trek through the Brooks Range as he describes the Oolah Pass, part of the Continental Divide not between east and west, but the Arctic Divide. Below this point water flowed south, emptying into the Pacific Ocean. Beyond the Pass it drained into the Arctic Ocean! We meet many fascinating characters who lived in the wilderness, towns, villages, and cities, from the state capitol in Juneau which cannot be reached by road, to Barrow which lies 330 miles above the Arctic Circle in the north, Seward in the south, and Denali* in the center. Alaska’s topography make it a necessity for people to have pilot’s license if they are to survive the state’s rugged terrain, and in fact one out of every six residents do. The need for air transport also serves as a time machine as you fly from Anchorage to Fairbanks to the north and on to coastal areas that seem fifty years behind.

McGinniss spends a great deal of time exploring the impact of western technology and the coming of the white culture. It has had a particularly devastating effect on younger Eskimos who were not set in the ways of the older generation. What emerges is that Eskimo culture is being destroyed as they confront the Americanization of Alaska brought on by the wealth produced by the oil pipeline. They are migrating to cities in great number seeking welfare aid, taking jobs on the pipeline earning money that they have no clue on how to deal with, or trying to survive in their villages.

In his trek throughout state, McGinniss meets a cavalcade of individuals unique in character and possess outlandish life stories that seem to culminate in Alaska. World War II veterans abound, Grateful “Deadheads,” policemen from Denver, former businessmen and educators, writers, bureaucrats, and many who are recently divorced and trying to put their lives back together. Others are seeking freedom, adventure, or just to get rich quick from the oil boom. We meet people who arrive from Seattle on a barge in what appears to be a “hippie coup” of a small village as they take over the radio station, newspaper, and school library. The descriptions and stories abound like Duncan Pyle, a former bestselling Canadian author who for a time was the Chairman of the Language Department at the Inupiat University of the Arctic, a university housed in a shack. As Olive Cook who grew up in Bethel which is located at the confluence of the Bering Sea and the Yukon River who left for a job in Washington, D.C., but she could never reconcile her Eskimo culture and white technological society. We also meet Eddie the Basque, a pipefitter from Idaho who hoped to make enough money from the pipeline to retire, however, by the time he arrived the pipeline was almost completed.

It seems that everyone that the author meets left the lower forty eight states for Alaska without any knowledge of what they were getting themselves into. A case in point is Tom and Marie Brennan who left newspaper jobs in Worcester, MA and set out in their International Harvester Travel All pulling a houseboat on wheels. After traveling 5000 miles they eventually reached Anchorage were they got jobs on the Anchorage Times and witness the spectacular growth of Alaska’s largest city, and Tom, who escaped Massachusetts, would soon become the Public relations Head for Atlantic Richfield and the oil pipeline!

McGinniss’ description of Fairbanks is as if it did not exist on earth, “but on a distant planet; a planet that was much farther from the sun.” In fact, many of the author’s descriptions have that out of the earth’s universe feel to it as Alaska is not like any other area in our union, particularly the winters. Many stark descriptions of the landscape are offered, but despite these comments, the sheer beauty of Alaska’s bareness comes through, from the Kahiltna Glacier 7200 feet above sea level which is the staging area for hikers to climb Denali or the Yukon River that flows from the Bering Sea all the way across Alaska into Canada.

GOING TO EXTREMES is a unique look at our 49th state, a view that is hard to accept for many natives because of the way their lives have changed. However, for the Alaska novice like myself in conjunction with my recent visit it was eye opening what the oil boom has done to the state and its people. Whether you are a conservationist, an individual who believes in the development of Alaska’s natural resources, or someone who wishes that the government would just leave Alaskans alone there is something worthwhile to be taken from McGinniss’ narrative.

*The name of the highest mountain in North America became a subject of dispute in 1975, when the Alaska Legislature asked the U.S. federal government to officially change its name from Mount McKinley to Denali. The mountain had been unofficially named Mount McKinley in 1896 by a gold prospector, and officially by the United States government in 1917 to commemorate William McKinley, who was president of the United States from 1897 until his assassination in 1901. (Wikipedia)

[Lisa Vegan · Rating 5 out of 5]

For some reason, I remember liking this book more than all the others I read in preparation for a trip to Alaska that I took in 1983. It really got me in the mood and gave me a good sense of the the place, even though I was going to only a small corner of the state.

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is some very good Alaskan airchair travel. I've been really disappointed in this winter's snow output (much like last year), and so I've been reading books about Alaska (much like last year). I want to wake up and not be able to open the door b/c of all the snow. Wouldn't that be cool??? I loved reading Joe McGinniss's version of Alsaka, circa 1980, with the fresh pipeline and all the money rolling around and no place to go. My favorite chapters were Barrow (of course--sun sets on Nov.18 and rises again on Jan. 23. You bet this would make for some pretty severely drunken antidotes), The Village (Olive Cook), and Bettles (what? where? exactly.). Joe even covers Wasilla, but luckily Sarah was only a pregnant high school girl when he wrote this, so we don't have to hear about her any. I hear we're supposed to get 10-18 inches Wednesday. Here's hoping.

[Cleo Baker-Roberts · Rating 2 out of 5]

After reading "The Last Brother," which we thoroughly enjoyed, I looked for additional titles by Joe McGinniss, thinking all his books would be equally entertaining. NOT!!!
This account is set in the 1970s Alaska.

McGinniss is (in my opinion) very harsh in his writings about Alaska & the Native Alaskans. I don't believe (based on this book) he regards the Eskimos/Natives very highly & he certainly isn't very comfortable with the Alaskan climate.

I chose NOT to finish reading this book ~ I only made it halfway through & found it so negative, I closed it for the last time ~ NOT something I've done more than half a dozen times in my reading life!

Obviously he enjoyed Washington DC life & his "inclusion" in the Kennedy Clan, which enabled him to later write "The Last Brother" so splendidly. Such was not the case with this book.

[D · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this book to be a worthy companion to John McPhee's Coming into the Country. Some overlap, but between the two, you get a pretty rounded idea of Alaska at the time. McGinniss isn't as good a writer, and gets a little repetitve on occasion, but overall, I liked the tone of the book. Wild stories, funny stories. He isn't as PC as some might hope, nor does he over-romanticize, mostly he just lets people speak for themselves, which is all it really takes. The book doesn't give off an overly positive vibe, but mostly he just puts himself in the backseat and goes where the stories are. The chapters are arranged into the towns he visited, with several off the highway system, and also a longer chapter about a wilderness trip in the Brooks Range. Definitely recommended.

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading this non-fiction from decades ago, I wonder what has changed, what I'd find if I went on a similar trip now. While the "story" of this book wasn't really much (I went here, then I went here, then I went here), McGinniss provides vivid and detailed descriptions that make this book very easy and exciting to read. The Alaskan wilderness, of course, sounds beyond everything I know about the outdoors (hopefully this is still the case!). This book was set in a time when oil pipeline development was ramping up and the culture of Alaska was changing dramatically, and largely not, apparently, for the better. From the sounds of things, everybody in Alaska is an alcoholic.

[Rick Moore · Rating 1 out of 5]

I love books on living in Alaska. McGinnis’ liberal elitist attitude ruins this one. You can feel his sense of superiority and contempt for average people in every chapter. A waste of your time and that’s a shame.

[Bob Rehfeld · Rating 3 out of 5]

McGinnis does his best to describe all the worst of Alaska. After awhile it becomes irrelevant.

[Russ · Rating 4 out of 5]

A good cultural exegesis of Alaska, although it trends towards the darker edges. A fine culture overview of various regions of the state, and basically a good read.

[Bruce · Rating 4 out of 5]

Before intrepid traveloguists Tony Horwitz and Jon Krakauer, there was Joe McGinniss, who, only a few years removed from the alienation of the Nixon campaign trail, decided to seek out the embers of the final American frontier in Alaska before they could be snuffed out by construction and operation of the great pipeline. Joe left for Anchorage in November, 1975 with a plan of staying through the winter and exploring until the following bicentennial fall.

Alone in the Arctic in the dead of winter? In this context, McGinniss' vision of frontier was decidedly romantic: the rugged individualist against civilization. Thus it is that he finds himself walking in solitary on the polar ice a half mile north of Barrow's oil operations (pp. 71-2): "From this vantage point, I looked slowly in all directions. No bears. Nothing moving. Nothing alive, out on the ice. To the north, the emptiness; the void. To the south, the edge of the continent. The edge of life in North America. From the mayor, from the electric typewriters in the municipal office building, from the talk of closed-circuit TV, it was only a fifteen-minute walk to reach this…. It was as if I had walked off the edge of the earth and were now floating free, in the void, staring back. The smells and noise and the shabbiness receded, and Barrow became a still life: the dawn of man." 

Here's the thing, though… that shabbiness the author so disdains as much as the creature comforts of home that bored and drove him in pursuit of wilderness are the byproducts of human social behavior intrinsic to our survival. Precious few can go it alone in nature and live to tell the tale (see, e.g., Into the Wild, etc.). And at 50 degrees below 0, in the darkness and despair of a six-month long night, who outside of suicidal fantasies would want to?

McGinniss records a series of encounters with a score of colorful characters: a prospector, a saloon owner, a mad journalist, a pragmatic oil surveyor, a shrewd travel agent, a pilot, a car salesperson, and so on, and to his credit, begrudges them not their guns, alcohol, nor respectively taciturn worldviews. The fact is that everyone with the optimism essential to electing to undertake an Alaskan winter grapples with the pessimism and depression inherent in prolonged exposure to it. The author seems less charitable when encountering similar attitudes from the indigenous population, as though being born to Arctic life should magically inure one to the depredations of isolation and cold or exempt one from the desire to have running water to take for granted.

At pages 110-112 he marvels at the old Eskimo weaving a blackfish trap in his too-crowded family shack east of Bethel – ah, the old ways! – and seems disappointed and resentful when the trappings of modern day civilization intrude upon his imagined idyll. "No more were ancient stories told late into the night," he laments. "No more the quiet visits, the dances, the little games. Now, not even a blackfish trap was more important than a program as exciting as 'The Six Million Dollar Man.' For the first time in history, the Eskimo had been given an opportunity to live vicariously…. Gone was the symbolism of the raven and the bear. The new gods were Big Bird, and Bert and Ernie. It did not matter what program was on. After centuries of changeless frozen winter,... it was now possible to turn one switch and this magic machine would bring a seemingly infinite variety of hallucinatory images before your eyes. It was almost a form of peyote."

Yet despite consistent confrontations with the harsh implications of frontier living, proximity to the serenity and transcendence promised by the surrounding wilderness remains seductive, especially to the well-equipped hiker in the height of summer. If McGinniss clings to his tourist's folly that conflates survivalist cosplay with survival, he is honest enough to fess up to it by the end. Coming face to face with a mama grizzly and her cubs on a National Park mapping expedition deep in the Brooks Range thousands of miles from the nearest hospital is precisely the sort of practical lesson that should scare anyone straight. Amazingly, he still manages to go wandering off by himself. This is the point I wanted to reach into the book's pages and throttle him: "By God, man! Have you learned nothing?"

Of course he lives to tell of this shocking stupidity; his book was not published posthumously. Clearly there is such a thing as dumb luck. As to how his luck held, I invite you to my preferred way of experiencing extreme environments: in a cozy armchair, with a glass of whiskey in hand. You'll have to read to discover.

[Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was inspired to read this novel from it's reference within Mark Adam's very entertaining "Tip of the Iceberg" and I am so glad I did. McGinniss was a novelist/journalist who in 1976, opted to venture out to Alaska for what would be a year long excursion throughout the state (plus another summer there as he noted in his introduction), just as the Alaskan pipeline was coming to completion. His novel to me stands as a memoir of a time in Alaska that was on the cusp of two histories: before the pipeline and after the pipeline. There is definitely a bias of conservationism - McGinniss is obviously both awed and humbled by the natural beauty he encountered throughout the state - and more than a little bit of wistful sadness as to how the construction of the pipeline, while bringing in much income to the state, also did so to the determent of some of its natural resources and culture of Native tribes/lands. So to those readers who want an objective portrayal of Alaskan history in the 1970's, this is not the book for you.

However, McGinnis does a fantastic job of depicting the many colorful folk he interacted with throughout his time in Alaska, and that starts right from the get-go on the ferry from Seattle up to Haines. These people, most of which are readily identified, others he cloaks under pseudonyms for anonymity, provide a rich tapestry of those who either populated, worked in, or benefited from Alaska at the time of his stay. There was also an undercurrent of sadness, particularly when describing the conditions of Barrow and Nome and the associated desolate nature of life for the Alaskan natives who have had their rich culture/traditions decimated and appeared, for lack of a better term, simply lost.

So overall I found this book to be simply spectacular and it does inspire me to plan further trips to Alaska. I do realize though that portions of the state have changed since McGinniss' stay but hope that the wilderness, the vastness which has so captivated so many to venture to Alaska, has remained there at least in part. I think re-reading portions of this novel again just prior to a visit to the 49th state would probably set the right mood for me. It seems to be that type of memoir that many readers have returned to again and again and enjoy it even on multiple visits and, having just completed it, I sense that I fall into that category as well.

[Robert P. Hoffman · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to like this book. I picked it up last summer after someone I knew moved to Alaska, hoping to read about what Alaska was like before and after the oil boom. In the early parts of the book McGinniss does a good job of talk about the effects of the oil boom.

But for a relatively short book it just drags on. His themes are: its cold, people do some really odd things, people drink a lot (especially the Natives who are described by McGinniss in stereotypical racist ways), nature is amazing, and Alaska is big.

The ending of the book is less than satisfying as the author recounts a long hike filled with long quotes from the leader of the hike. A less than satisfying account.

[Andrew Bolte · Rating 4 out of 5]

I came across this book after reading The Miracle of Castel di Sangro (which may still be my favorite sports-related book of all time), not knowing exactly what to expect.

I was charmed to find a time capsule of a state that most Americans know little about beyond the immutable truths of bitter cold and isolation. However, even in the very beginnings of the oil boom in Alaska, it’s made apparent that isolation is endangered - I can only imagine how life is now, nearly 45 years after Joe McGinniss spent a year experiencing The Final Frontier from Juneau to Barrow and many points in between.

It may be dated at this point, but it was still very much a worthwhile visit.

[Bob Rapp · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author spent a year exploring Alaska and has written a very entertaining book about his experiences, the people he met and their way of life, and the history of the state. It was written in the late 70’s so much of it is dated but the stories are still interesting and in some of the remote areas life is probably not all that different today. He was there just as the oil first trickled out of the pipeline and has insight on the changes it made as well as the movement to preserve more land as national parks.

[Carly · Rating 4 out of 5]

The stories were interesting I was surprised at how outdated some of the language is - no mention of Inuits; I don’t even know who he was referring to when discussing Eskimos versus Indians. I found myself daydreaming about my trip to Alaska when I was a teenager, and thinking about a firmer student that took a job in Anchorage. This did not make me want to go back to the freezingness that is Alaska, but did remind me of the glory of the beauty and the wonders of hiking.

[Lynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Someone recommended Going To Extremes in a review of one of John McPhees books. It was the best purchase ever, beckoned me from under the covers on a couple of sleepless nights. A good read, his descriptions of the landscape & the characters he encountered were done in a way I could relate to. This is my kind of book. Thanks Joe McGinniss.

[Elissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this book right before going to Alaska for the first time and finished it while I was in Alaska. Perfect read for the trip and a really interesting Time Capsule into what AK was like in the late 70s. I couldn’t believe Gates of the Arctic hadn’t even been established!! But glad to see some things like the “welcome to beautiful downtown Talkeetna” sign haven’t changed.

[Michael Patton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Warning: Alaskans don't like this book. I think their main objection is the section telling of some silly business that occurred when the author was on the state ferry. I think they're being overly sensitive. Overall, "Going to Extremes" is quite respectful of the people and the place.

[Julia Rossina · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is such a delight! The author recounts his trip to Alaska in 1975. He toured all the major towns and attractions in the state, talked to all kinds of people, and gives a detailed account of everything. I thoroughly enjoyed it and didn't want this book to end.

«The thing about the city council was, in response to Arthur's campaign of vitriol, insult, and personal invective against them, the bastards had put a parking meter in front of his office. Right where Arthur parked his truck, in order to load it, on the days when he delivered the paper. It was not only the only parking meter in Nome, it was the only parking meter north of Fairbanks. In fact, as far as Arthur was able to determine, it was the northernmost goddamn parking meter in the world. What was worse, the sons of bitches had sent away for a whole big book of parking tickets, just in case Arthur ever neglected to put in his dime».

[Mike Sigler · Rating 4 out of 5]

A little uneven, gets better as it goes. A place , 1970s Alaska. Some exaggeration, chilkat pass is 4000 feet, not 7000; and in how a place is described, for example juneau where I lived for 30 years. Worth reading to get a sense of place and time

[Timothy Wright · Rating 5 out of 5]

Must read if you are interested in Alaska culture

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sitting here smiling to myself...Joe McGinniss having his biggest adventure yet

[Fuel To Burn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just read the first edition, it is a fantastic snapshot of Alaska in the 70s.

[Barb · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book 34 years ago and enjoyed reading it once again.

[Ingrid · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoy reading it again.

[Matthew Martens · Rating 3 out of 5]

A breezy tour--and them be chilly breezes, boy--of mid-seventies Alaska, as lived and reported by Joe McGinniss, a young-ish, wicked curious denizen of Western Mass, still flush from his surprise bestseller about Nixon's election and issued a blank check from his publisher to follow his nose, or his bliss. His year or so among the human wreckage--whether mainlanders fleeing or natives reeling--and the natural splendor (which he struggles but gradually develops a fine facility to describe) makes for engaging travel journalism, filled with deft characterizations of many shades of eccentric, and a tart, still timely snapshot (can a snapshot be tart?) of a pivotal, tumultuous moment in our recent history, particularly with respect to the oil economy, the environment, and indigenous peoples. 3.5.

[Helen · Rating 4 out of 5]

The mysterious wild land of Alaska and its potential transformation as a result of the new Trans Alaska Pipeline drew two accomplished journalist/explorers in the mid-1970s to experience as much of it as they could. John McPhee, New Jersey native, gave us “Coming into the Country,” published in 1977, and Joe McGinniss, Massachussetts man, wrote “Going to Extremes,” after touring Alaska in 1975, though the book wasn’t published until 1980. I’m writing one review to cover both of them.

Coming into the Country is by far the more serious work, more thoroughly researched and considerably longer (438 pages versus 285.) Going to Extremes is more entertaining—the random adventures of a free spirit who went off to see what he could see. It feels more like somebody you know telling you a series of funny stories about his trip.

Both men took camping trips in the Brooks Range, pretty much the most remote wilderness area in Alaska. McPhee and his party took kayaks and a canoe, walking when the water got too shallow, while McGinness hiked. They all saw grizzly bears, but nobody was eaten. If you’re interested in wilderness and camping, you’d probably like both accounts.

More than half of McPhee’s book consists of stories of Alaskans he met, including a great many devoted to a subsistence lifestyle, hunting and trapping to feed themselves. Let’s just say that Alaska has a whole lot of people who came to Alaska to get away from government and regulations and think it’s their God-given right to build a cabin wherever they see fit. These stories are mostly quite interesting, though there are so many that they get repetitive. McPhee also devotes a section of his book to the politics surrounding the proposal to move the state capital out of Juneau, which is the only U.S. capital that cannot be reached by road. This part gets a bit boring, especially since you know that the capital did not get moved.

McGinniss tells some great stories, especially about life in the grim confines of Barrow and Nome. It’s no wonder that Alaska’s remote areas have high rates of alcoholism, suicide and domestic violence.

Both books offer lots of information about the conflicts that still shape Alaska—notably who has the rights to Alaska’s natural resources, how much wilderness should be preserved and how much should be developed. They also do a good job of conveying Alaska’s vastness. Even today, the state has a population of only about 738,000 (by comparison, the Tampa Bay area has 4.3-million people), spread over an area more than twice the size of Texas. Obviously some things have changed in the last 40 years, notably in communications. Even in the wilderness, you can have an emergency beacon. And I surely hope the houses in Barrow have indoor plumbing by now.

McPhee is now 85 while McGinniss died in 2014 at the age of 71.

[Cheryl · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this book through a GoodReads recommendation request looking for books to read while on a recent cruise through Alaska's inside passage
(which was sadly cut short due to family illness), and it was great read. Going to Extremes was published in 1980, but as many reviewers here and elsewhere have pointed out, the book holds up well. I can't speak for it's accuracy since I barely saw much of Alaska, but the book and it's vivid descriptions of people and places there, and it's perspective of the ongoing conflict between development versus preserving wilderness made me feel more connected to Alaska in a way I'm sure I would not have without this book. I read John McPhee's Coming into the Country years ago and loved it, these two books are good companion readers about Alaska. Also, I just realized that Joe McGuiness is the author of the upcoming book on Sarah Palin, which is getting great reviews, I can't wait to read that and plan to check out all of Joe McGuiness's books.

[Dirk · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was cheap and confused.

It was cheap because McGuiness writes so deprecatingly about so many of his subjects. He belittles them not for the sake of an argument, but rather to make the reader believe that they are in on some secret, or to show his own cleverness. He has a nose for scandal without any idea of the weight of his judgement--only the thrill of reading a torrid anecdote matters in his tale.

The story is confused because no coherent idea ties the book together. McGuiness flies to Alaska and writes a book in order to justify and/or finance his trip. The story begins with a ship's journey, the continues on to the towns, to the villages, to the pipeline, and finally the wilderness. The story is not a personal journey, but neither is it the story of a place. It is a hashed-together group of story from his time on the road.

I read this book because it was a gift. If I had known what it was I would have saved my time.

[Adrian]

Plucked from my shelves because I was waiting for a library book I bought this in 1989. It's the author's experiences travelling in Alaska. He covers much territory including all the major cities, glaciers and mountains. He experiences frigid winters and terrific summers. The state attracts an independent caste of people not all lovable and the debate between those favouring development vs. those who are naturists is in full swing. McGinniss spends four days alone in a cabin in the wilderness to test himself and it's not a great experience but the book finishes with a hike he takes through the Brooks range where halfway up the Cockedhat Mountain the group stumbles upon a meadow on a plateau- which is.