Day One, and already she was lying in her journal. It was 1993, Suzanne Roberts had just finished college, and when her friend suggested they hike California’s John Muir Trail, the adventure sounded like the perfect distraction from a difficult home life and thoughts about the future. But she never imagined that the twenty-eight-day hike would change her life. Part memoir, part nature writing, part travelogue, Almost Somewhere is Roberts’s account of that hike. John Muir had written of the Sierra Nevada as a “vast range of light,” and this was exactly what Roberts was looking for. But traveling with two girlfriends, one experienced and unflappable and the other inexperienced and bulimic, she quickly discovered that she needed a new frame of reference. Her story of a month in the backcountry—confronting bears, snowy passes, broken equipment, injuries, and strange men—is as much about finding a woman’s way into outdoor experience as it is about the natural world she so eloquently describes. Candid and funny and, finally, wise, Almost Somewhere is not just the whimsical coming-of-age story of a young woman ill-prepared for a month in the mountains but also the reflection of a distinctly feminine view of nature. Watch a book trailer.
Suzanne Roberts is the author of Animal Bodies: On Death, Desire, and Other Difficulties (March 2022), the award-winning travel essay collection Bad Tourist: Misadventures in Love and Travel, and the memoir Almost Somewhere: Twenty-Eight Days on the John Muir Trail (Winner of the National Outdoor Book Award), as well as four books of poems. Named "The Next Great Travel Writer" by National Geographic's Traveler, Suzanne's work has been listed as notable in Best American Essays and included in The Best Women's Travel Writing. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, CNN, Creative Nonfiction, Brevity, The Rumpus, Hippocampus, The Normal School, River Teeth, and elsewhere. She holds a doctorate in literature and the environment from the University of Nevada-Reno, teaches in the MFA program at Sierra Nevada University, and lives in South Lake Tahoe, California
I met Suzanne on an airplane and purchased this book right away on my Kindle as we were talking about it. How is that for tech? We were coming home from a writer's conference where Suzanne was on a panel with Cheryl Strayed, Pam Houston, and some other women travel writers. So I was really interested to see how this book compared (not fair I know) to Wild, which I gobbled in one sitting.
What was missing for me in this book was reflection. I have read a lot of hiking narratives, especially as I prepared to hike Kilimanjaro, and they can be so relentless since they describe a short space of time and very limited setting and action. Strayed managed to break that monotony with very detailed reflection on her life before and after the hike. It has been about a year since I read Wild and I still have images in my mind about Strayed's life off the trail--the description was that intense and vivid.
Here, we get a bit of dipping into life off the trail, but with not enough detail to give relief from the aches and pains and heavy packs. And beyond that, we have the added monotony (hiking narratives don't need extra monotony) of several recurring themes: contempt for hiking partners, food obsessions, and female insecurities.
I do understand feeling those emotions, and I am a contemporary of Roberts so we went through those things at the same time in the same historical context. But I wonder why an editor didn't say to her, "We got it. You disliked some folks. You wanted men to like you. But what did you learn?"
I wanted the characters to be redeemed instead of ridiculed. I ended up feeling empathy for the characters I was supposed to dislike. I think about how DFW eviscerates people and manages to love them at the same time, whether on a cruise ship or at the county fair. I wanted the adult Roberts to behave like an adult. The book does such a good job of capturing the mentality of a 20-something, it skips a bit of the wisdom of a 40-something.
I'm glad I read the book and I liked it and I'm glad it exists. But it is one of those where I wish an editor had insisted on one more draft.
This summer, I journeyed into the hiking-memoir genre, first with Cheryl Strayed's Wild, then with Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, and now with Suzanne Roberts' Almost Somewhere. I can firmly say I enjoyed Roberts' Almost Somewhere the most. While Cheryl Strayed goes solo on the PCT in Wild, a memoir about hiking and grief, Roberts hikes with two girlfriends on the JMT, making this memoir more about women and finding their voice/place in the wilderness. Almost Somewhere reads faster with the benefit of more external dialogue between Roberts and her two girlfriends, who make for very interesting characters. While one is competitive and end-goal oriented, nicknamed The Commander, the other is inexperienced and fragile, mainly because she struggles with anorexia and bulimia. These two characters mixed with the well-read, imaginative, analytical narrator of Roberts navigate their own way, a distinctly female way, along the JMT. This expedition is not about competition and conquest, as much as The Commander would like it to be. In Roberts' eyes, this trek is about community and connection. I love Roberts' candidness in Almost Somewhere; she does not shy away from the hard questions: How do men and women experience nature differently? And why? What's the relationship between women and the wilderness? And I love how rather than answering these questions outright, Roberts lets readers discover their own answers as they evolve, just as Roberts did on the John Muir Trail in 1993.
This book is about hiking in the Sierras, so I’m automatically going to like it to a certain extent. Unfortunately, there was also a lot that bothered me. I was eager for descriptions of landscapes, but didn’t feel particularly inspired by any of the characters or their interactions.
I never felt like the author underwent any personal growth over the course of the book. Her immaturity as a 20-something would have been fine if there was some sort of character evolution, or even a more balanced retrospective commentary, but the revelations were largely absent.
The whole thing was rather repetitive: worry about Dionne, get annoyed at Erika, it’s hard being a girl hiking, yeah girl power. I appreciate the point that women often define themselves within a framework that men have set up, but I didn’t really see the author bucking that framework, aside from a superficial nod to it towards the end of the journey.
My biggest issue with the book was probably the author’s relationship with Erika. Though I appreciate her honest portrayal of her own pettiness, the constant passive-aggressive thoughts and dialogue were just not enjoyable to read.
On the plus side, my takeaway from this book is that, while my hiking journals are interesting to me personally, they would probably make a pretty poor memoir.
20140808 ◊ Backpacking the John Muir Trail is on my bucket list, so I eagerly dug into this memoir. I found it to be vapid and unsavory. The author's unflattering reflections of her college-aged inner monologue while hiking the JMT was, I'm sure, meant to sound gritty and real, but came across as petty and painfully immature. I am starting to despair of ever finding a backpacking memoir that doesn't leave a sour taste in my mouth.
"Women don't enter the wilderness in the same way men do; we constantly return to our physical bodies and the ways in which they could be threatened, not by bears or bugs but by men. Our bodies become a filter between us and the landscape, preventing us from enjoying both." I think Roberts hits on an important point here in her travelogue/memoir, which I wish every woman would read. It's an exploration of women, friendship, life on the John Muir trail. Even if you aren't into camping or hiking, her musings on such subjects as Charlie's Angels, flies being reincarnated, and the many characters they encounter along the way will entertain you.
And for nature lovers, there is plenty of flora and fauna, and her gradual settling into the landscape. And for readers who love characters and relationships, hers are complex and touching (one friend battles bulimia). Definitely a book that enriched my life by reading.
I loved this book. I read it immediately after reading Cheryl Strayed's Wild, and perhaps I was impacted by the fact that I plan on hiking the JMT (and NOT the PCT), but I felt more connected to Almost Somewhere. There are many overlaps in themes, but the two books have significant differences as well.
This is another personal journey story. The author, Suzanne, speaks about her experiences on the trail with her two girlfriends, Erika and Dionne. I think if one were to read the first couple chapters, skip the middle, and read the last couple chapters, one would think that there was some defining moment in the middle that changed the dynamic among the three women. But there isn't; not really, anyway. The changes that occur are subtle and over the long course of the 211+ mile trail.
I would say this is a must-read for any woman interested in exploring the wilderness, whether she identifies with Suzanne's age (early 20s) at the time or purpose (to discover what comes next in her life) or not. The quotes from and biographical information about Muir that are woven throughout are beautiful, and the journey, absorbing.
Almost Somewhere is a memoir by Suzanne Roberts in 2012 is about her experience hiking the John Muir Trail in 1993. For those who don’t know — the JMT is an iconic 200+ mile high altitude hiking trail in the Sierras. It is a very strenuous trail with over 48,000 cumulative feet of vertical.
On to the book. Roberts is a strong and engaging writer. Her degree in biology was useful in discussing the flora along this wilderness trail. This book however is really about her personal relationships with her hiking partners along the trail and heavy doses of introspection on her experiences with men. At that time she was a recent college grad and part-time ski bum but not an uber athlete. She suffered with quite a bit of knee pain during the first half of the trip but gradually worked past it. Her reflections and experiences meeting people along the trail were the substance of the book and included meeting plenty of creeps. And avoiding the creepy men provided most of the suspense.
I had a personal interest in reading this book as I fast-packed the John Muir Trail in August 2019 with two friends. My experiences did not match up with Roberts but we were also hiking much too fast to establish many conversations. To Roberts’ credit she took her time and that is where the depth of material came from.
I found her depictions of the beauty of the High Sierras to be lackluster but there were plenty of unexpected and funny moments reminiscent of A Walk in the Woods that made this a rewarding read.
4 stars. I think I enjoyed this book more than Cheryl Strayed’s Wild. A little less serious. Perhaps I could relate better to Roberts. Robert’s life in comparison was less chaotic so she was a more reliable narrator.
I have read quite a few books on thru-hiking. I generally can connect in some way with the author and his or her journey—as thru-hiking is, at minimum, a deep look inward. If an author touches on that over arching theme in even a broad sweeping manner, I will enjoy the read on some level. Due to its shallow nature, I struggled to connect in most ways with this particular story.
I suspect thats because it was written from a very young and immature perspective. That perspective was the authors experience, it just didn't resonate with me and I struggled to keep forging ahead with it. That was partly because I listened to it on audio and the narrator had a childish, condescending manner about her. It was grating and quite annoying. The seemingly shallow and petty manner (my opinion) in which the author experienced her hike, left me with this feeling—'what a shame'.
I do think that someone in a similar mindset (or age) as the author when she experienced her hike, might readily enjoy this book.
I listened to an interview with the author of this book, Suzanne Roberts, on our local NPR station and immediately purchased the book. I am planning a solo hike on the JMT next year, so reading about her experience was relevant and very interesting. Upon finishing the book, I wish I could begin my trek tomorrow.
I read this to get stoked to do the JMT, and it worked! The thing that came through for me in this book the most was how much the author LOVES hiking, and loved the JMT. It is contagious, and hard not to want to get out there after reading this.
This memoir did a good job of describing the trail, the landscape, and what it was like to hike it, which is what I wanted from the book. It was exciting to read a first-hand account of thru-hiking as I prepare to submit my John Muir Trail permit application. At times it did a good job capturing the duality of the physical misery and mental joy of wilderness backpacking.
On the other hand, Roberts hiked with two other women in the early 90s when women hadn’t yet solidified their space in the outdoor community. They framed the hike as a “girl power” trip and an opportunity to prove women could be just as competent outdoors as men. Roberts then proceeded to passive aggressively compete with and tear down the other women in her group, they’d throw each other under the bus for the approval of men, and she’d get upset about perpetuating the stereotype of a “weak and emotional girl” when men would see her crying on the trail. Roberts acknowledges that she had some growing up to do at the time and her behavior ran counter to what she wanted to achieve with the trip but it got pretty frustrating to read
Don’t even know how to sum up how much I loved this book. Currently writing this review about a book about nature with tears in my eyes. What a beautiful account of a trip through true wilderness, but even more so a story of connection, female friendship, hardship, and growth. So many layers of the story, and so many powerful one liners throughout. Women belong and deserve to feel safe on the trails.
There's a certain subgenre of wilderness finding oneself memoir, the going away and finding oneself out in the wilderness, especially for women. It's been epitomized by Wild in recent years, which I read and liked. This trail memoir seemed like it would be similar, if somewhat less intense since Suzanne Roberts does not hike the John Muir trail solo. She's also just graduated college, in a place in her life when she's been doing things correctly but has reached the end of the prescribed line of young adulthood and needs to figure out what to do next. She decides to go with two of her college friends, both women she's known for a while.
This is a hiking memoir that's based on journals and a deep appreciation for John Muir (quotes from him proceed each chapter of the memoir) and Suzanne's friends, rather than representing entirely stereotypical female archetypes gets into the more not necessarily toxic but more complicated elements of female friendship. Not everyone is themselves on the trail, especially from all the stress of hiking but also exacerbated by the fact altho it is hard to hide anything out in the wilderness hiking close to others for days on end.
While I haven't taken the huge long hike that comes with this territory, there is some element of the combined outdoor story and personal journey that isn't hugely trite that's also relatable to the intense outdoor experiences with others.
I guess the reason I have it 3 stars was because the writing wasn't as sophisticated as it could have been and the author came off a little precocious at times. I'm not convinced anymore that that's the entirely correct evaluation if it, or fair to the level of writing, but I might change my mind later.
Author Roberts looks back on the 22-year-old she was on her 1993 trek on the John Muir Trail with a clarity that only ensuing maturity can bring. With engaging candor, she holds back nothing describing the insecurities and challenges facing a woman trying to find her place in the world. The result is an absorbing read.
The JMT provides a dramatic backdrop for Roberts to explore various themes. Her hiking partners (one a confident athlete, the other an anorexic/bulimic with no trail experience) give her ample opportunity to delve into the burden of self-image facing women. The desire for mens' approval is bravely admitted, and only with that admission, along with a few years of maturing, can the folly of it be seen and transcended. But this is much more than a "womens' issues" book--it's a "life" book.
The JMT is a prominent and interesting character in the book, but it is Roberts' keen observations and biting honesty on topics far and wide that make this book a winner. As a reader, I crave this kind of rawness. And as a writer, if I ever were to be one, I would aspire to be this fearless.
"Almost Somewhere" is a more-than-worthy addition to the hiking genre, and I, for one, thank Roberts for taking us on her journey.
Suzane does a nice job of vividly describing the JMT with words of her own and with quotes from other nature lovers like John Muir and Henry David Thoreau. Her story is told from a young woman's, recent college graduate, perspective and gives the reader an insight to a woman's experience in the wilderness. She is accompanied by two friends, one who is using the trail as a way to cure her from her anorexia/bulimia and another who is using the trail as a proving ground to her strength/ a stepping stone for larger adventures in the future. The trio meets various characters along the way and Suzanne does a good job bringing their quarks and oddities to life.
Once I began reading I found myself wanting to pick this book up whenever I could and meet up with the trio somewhere along the John Muir Trail. The story was a nice mix of nature, female perspective, coming of age, humor, social commentary, and adventure. It opened my eyes more to what it's like to be a woman, especially in the woods, and also inspired me to take a long walk outside. I highly recommend to anyone interested in these topics.
Suzanne's account of her month-long hiking journey is highly entertaining and introspective. Her 22 year old thoughts are very similar to mine when I was that age. I appreciate being able to reflect on my early 20's alongside her experiences. The 30 year age gap of our 20's adds to the story, as I am even more captivated by their hiking adventure with no GPS or phones to rely on. It is also mind boggling that their only plan B was to hike out to a road and hitch hike back home!
Throughout the book I related to the different struggles Erika, Dionne, and Suzanne went through while also getting to see a new life and outdoors perspective from each character. I was inspired that the 3 hikers all made it to the end on their own considering their injuries, lack of food and inexperience in long term backpacking. This is a beautifully told memoir about mind over matter that also gives the reader trail envy.
I now more than ever want to go explore the Sierra Nevadas, the PCT, the John Muir trail, Yosemite, and Mount Whitney!
Amazing memoir. Really captures the spirit of wonder in nature, and describes the beauty of California. The writing is easy, and flows well. It was an interesting read with plenty of humor, as well as the hard truth of hiking 200+ miles. Beautiful poetic writing with many great quotes from a womans perspective of nature, but intertwined with the soul of others like Muir and Thoreau. Really makes you want to sit atop a mountain and reflect.
Me: How did your experience on the trail affect the trajectory of the years that followed it?
Suzanne: It changed everything. I moved to Colorado and then Lake Tahoe. I knew that in order to be happy, I would need to spend as much time as possible outside in the natural world.
The narrative and story in this book are very good, and I loved reading about their girls-only adventure. However I was disappointed at all the cattiness and felt annoyed at the narrator throughout the book. I think the book would've been much better without all the rude comments about her hiking partners she somehow remembers 20 years later.
Well...I have given up on books better than this but I was committed to finishing it. I tried to be patient with the author/protagonist but often found myself fed up with her obsessiveness and paranoia. The description of the John Muir Trail was what I was after in this book - even from the perspective of a self obsessed 22 year old, it does sound lovely.
I really love this book! I had to look up many of the locations online so I could get a great picture even though Suzanne's writing was extremely colorful! My only issue, and it is a small one, I wanted to know where everyone ended up. The final paragraph wasn't enough for me.
As a college graduation gift to themselves, the author, Suzanne Roberts, and her friend Erika decide to hike the John Muir Trail. They cover the 211 miles from Mt. Whitney to Yosemite, a 28-day trip for the women. Roberts is struggling with her feelings about her alcoholic father and what her post-college future will bring. While thoughts on resolving these issues may have helped launch the month-long backpacking trip, I think one of the most important lessons here is Roberts’ evolving understanding of the male gaze and how powerful it is for young women to be able to move outside of it.
Before Erika and Suzanne leave for their trip, Suzanne invites a third friend, Dionne, along. She knows that Dionne suffers with bulimia but believes the trip will help her. She doesn’t tell Erika about the issue, thinking Erika will not want Dionne (a weak link) on the trip.
While Erika is a strong, experienced hiker, Suzanne is middling—and carrying a far too heavy backpack—while Dionne is new to the experience. The three move at varying speeds. They pack a minimum of food, not accounting for possible obstacles to their daily mileage goals, such as rain. After hiking with two men—one known and one stranger—and sharing their food with the two, the women's rations quickly diminish. Having placed others' needs before their own, they are completely out of food in the last days before they arrive at their food drop off. Thankfully, kind strangers give them a few meals.
The stranger among them feels a bit scary to the author and the reader will likely find him so as he plays a game of twenty questions asking Roberts, “How would you like to die?” when they are separated from the group. She tries to think of an answer that is in no way related to ‘falling off a mountain.’
The three personalities of the young women clash, and they sometimes bicker. Erika is focused and always looking to chalk up the completion of her goals. Suzanne lives more in the moment. She often writes and draws in her journal and likes to relate her experiences to those of John Muir and how he saw this wilderness. She often quotes him. Dionne is constantly contending with her bulimia and finds it easier to be on the trail, where there is no extra food, than in civilization with its temptations.
A month of backpacking is a long time. Besides issues with food rations, the women have a few run-ins with bears, some terrible weather, and injuries ranging from foot blisters to bad knees. But they are most alive to their experiences when they manage to shuck off the males and go it alone. This is particularly important to the author who admits to always seeking male attention. (She tells some funny lies on the trail to get male approval.)
“I felt grateful that Jesse left when he did and that we didn’t end up hiking the rest of the trail with him or even Mark. Without them we have come to rely on each other and on ourselves. Luck and circumstance provided the chance to find our ‘girl power.’ We found our connection to each other or place within the wilderness.��
Alone, the women have intimate conversations and tell each other their truths. By the time they have been on the trail for four weeks, the author no longer worries about her appearance or her thoughts in front of men. Dionne speaks openly of her eating disorder and finds it therapeutic. Erika comes to appreciate the company of the other two. All three see their experience and the wilderness itself through the female gaze. And that is the most powerful aspect of the journey.
“The end of our trip was in sight; the next day we would be back in the world of cars and freeways, buildings and beds. Before, I had counted the days until a shower or a chocolate shake. Now I was sad to see the end. I had proven to myself that I could do it, which meant that I would always be able to look back on this trip whenever faced with a difficult thing, no matter what it was. I would remember that if I did it yesterday, I could do it today.”
The book is organized in a chapter for each day on the trail. Each begins with a quote from John Muir. The reader can see what Muir found in the wilderness and then what Roberts found. Near the end of the memoir, Roberts realizes, in Yosemite, that “love for this place” connects her to her father, who has been mapping each day of her trip. She has a new appreciation for what is good in him.
HIgh school housekeeping: when I was a teen, I did a lot of backpacking, including on some of the same trails Roberts discusses in Almost Somewhere. Mostly, I was with Girl Scouts, so other than a male leader, who was sometimes with us, I was beyond the male gaze. These were among the most formative experiences of my teen years. I wish every girl had such an opportunity. The physical exertion, the beauty of the natural world, the long days without meeting other people, and the ‘I-Thou’ sense of a creator and creation were all important. Roberts captures all of these beautifully in Almost Somewhere. It’s a good memoir for teen girls, those who are seeking examples of empowerment. (Side note: I have had a complaint that I recommend books for teens that are not suitable for eleven year olds. Honestly, eleven year olds are not teens. However, I will mention here that I don’t think this is a book for children because the hikers do a couple of typically adult things on the trail that speak to more mature readers. But generally they backpack, admire nature, and become strong.)
Almost Somewhere is a good book for teen girls, a chance to see how important relying on themselves can be. A chance to see an example of young women re-forming themselves.
Note: I’ve been working on reviewing books which school librarians would not typically see in review journals, but are good choices for teens.
I really enjoyed this book. I appreciate how candidly honest the author was, even when it was at her own expense. I found myself switching “loyalty” between two of the group members because they seemed to represent an “either/or” approach to the outdoors when I find myself squarely in between and enjoying both sides equally. Sometimes I do want to climb a mountain just because it’s there and I like the sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I do want to wander through a meadow, look at the wildflowers, and climb the mountain to discover more about myself. This isn’t a frustration that’s exclusive to the book, it’s often found all over the outdoor recreation community. The peak baggers vs. the scenic route takers. Often I think people would be happier with themselves and each other if we allowed space within ourselves for both.
A lot of things has changed in the thruhiking world since then. Better gear, easier to find tips online (would their knees they have struggled as much if they used trekking poles?), but some things never change. The anxiety of being in the wilderness as a feminine person, that men on trail give you more anxiety than a steep cliff or a hungry bear, and the constant feeling of being infantilized in a space dominated by men, even when you’re accomplishing just as much- if not more- as them.
There’s also a perfect illustration of the complexities of female friendship in your early twenties. It’s a time where a lot of us are focused more on becoming the person we think we should be, rather than finding the person we are. And tensions can arise when your friends see you for all your strengths and flaws and they don’t align with the ideal picture we want to create for ourselves. I think a lot of this tension comes from the subconscious subscription to traditional gender stereotypes…being hurt by another woman stings deeper because we seek support and nurturing and camaraderie from one another, and we don’t expect them to hurt us the way we’ve come to expect it from men. It’s easy to think that when a man who hurts our feelings is just being a guy. But when a woman hurts our feelings she’s being a bitch.
Almost somewhere I like that she’s open with having toxic views of male/female dynamics
Girrrrlllll Jean shorts on a through hike???
Oh give it a rest Erica. 🙄
fuuuuuck a bear! “Don’t scare it I want a picture!” Sir you are dumb
Dion having a eating disorder makes me sad 😢
“Have you ever thought about killing someone?” Wtf Jim
“Every woman who has ever been out camping alone knows that bears are nothing to fear compared to predatory men, whether real or imagined that fear is always there in the wilderness riding on our backs like a heavy pack”
“Hiking brings out schizophrenic emotion like no other activity I can think of, except maybe sex”
Girl power! Boys have left.
I’m bringing hot chocolate on my next hike
“Just kill me at 30 that is so old!! But here I am at 23 and 30 no longer seemed quite so far away” I feel ancient 💀
Jessie saying they’d never make it is comical.
It bums me out with all the ed talk. Even Suzanne worried she’s eating too much food, girl you are hiking 12 miles a day. You can eat whatever you want. Food is fuel!
Heaven forbid your thighs touch. The 90s were a wild time.
She makes working at a camp sound awful. Can’t relate.
“I can make my own maps rather than follow the lines drawn for me”
“I realized I had been relying on a males translation of nature.”
“Joy is not in the having done but in the doing, not in the arriving but in the almost somewhere.”
I absolutely loved this book. There were some parts that would be considered “not feminist” I think but I kind of think that was the point. She had such a warped view of what girls/women could do back then. I think she had a very open honest recount of her thinking as a 23 year old. I will continue to read this book and love it for years to come I can tell.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I read this a couple months ago. Others have noted, and I agree, that it could use a little professional polishing. It seemed to be filled with a lot of complaining about Roberts’ hiking partners, and a lot of recounting stories about boys they met on the trail. In most of those places, Roberts laments about how they should’ve been enjoying the hike for the female empowerment and bonding instead of competing for boys. But the boy stories, and complaints about the others, keep rolling in. That being said, one of my favorite quotes about hiking is in this book: “The thing about being on the trail is that you have hours and hours to think, so at first you review the things you had been thinking about. Then you have the thoughts you were planning to have. But after that you still have thinking time and no planned thoughts, so you start to think about things you never expected to think about.” This is why many of us hike, to unshackle ourselves physically and intellectually from routine and repetition.
Awhile back, I tried reading Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail and couldn't make it through it, even the audiobook version. Thankfully, Suzanne Roberts' book about her month-long hike along the John Muir Trail with two of her friends held my attention much better. While not my favorite travel book, I still enjoyed this one. At the time, the women were in their early twenties and struggling with their own, individual issues. Stepping into nature and away from the hustle and bustle of society can be healing (and jarring when you return). Though this adventure took place in the 1990s, I can't imagine it would be much different these days. We could all do with more time in nature.
I loved this book. It’s very funny — a writer in her 40s looking back at her 22 year old self — while also looking clear eyed at serious issues, like bulimia and the danger women face in the wilds. I also loved it because I love the Sierras.
Well-written account of the author's experience on the trail with two women friends, her musings about relationships with men, and her transformation over the 28 days. She invites the reader along by sharing her thoughts, fears, and descriptions of the flora and fauna along the way. Makes me want to gather my own gal pals and hike the John Muir Trail.