2021 National Outdoor Book Award Winner in Journeys
A passionate skier since he was a child, Anders Morley dreamed of going on a significant adventure, something bold and of his own design. And so one year in his early thirties, he decided to strap on cross-country skis to travel across Canada in the winter alone.
This Land of Snow is about that journey and a man who must come to terms with what he has left behind, as well as how he wants to continue living after his trip is over. It is an honest, thoughtful, and humorous reckoning of an adventure filled with adrenalin and exuberance, as well as mistakes and danger. Along the way readers gain insight, both charming and fascinating, into Northern outdoor culture and modern-day wilderness living, the history of northern exploration and Nordic skiing, the right to roam movement, winter ecology, and more.
Throughout, Morley’s clear, subtle, and self-deprecating voice speaks to a backwoods-genteel aesthetic that explores the dichotomy between wildness and refinement, language and personal story, journey and home.
Anders Morley, a 2021 National Outdoor Book Award winner, has worked as a translator and teacher in Italy, a treeplanter in Saskatchewan, and a forester's assistant in British Columbia. He holds a B.A. in history from Taylor University, an M.Litt. in ancient history from the University of St. Andrews, and has studied history and modern languages at Columbia University, Edinburgh University, and the Università degli studi di Bergamo. Booklist called his first book, This Land of Snow, "a captivating memoir" and "an eloquent ode to the harsh beauty of winter," while Publishers Weekly described it as "a thoughtful and inspiring account" that "weaves together human and natural history with skill." Morley's work has appeared in The Globe and Mail, Maisonneuve, Northern Woodlands, The Aurorean, and New Hampshire. He lives in New Hampshire.
An enjoyable read, but it falls a little flat in terms of bringing readers along on the adventure. The author's ruminations on history and infrastructure, while often interesting, come across as interruptions rather than a natural flow in the narrative. The journey has this staccato rhythm as well — the author sets out from British Columbia to ski across Canada, but then begins accepting rides and soon writes more about his hitchhikes and stays in towns than the trail itself. He meets many interesting people and writes well about these encounters, but it begins to feel more like a story about hitchhiking across Canada rather than skiing across Canada (and I'm sure he skied much of the distance. The bulk of the story just tends to focus elsewhere.)
The discussion of his relationship with his wife and another love interest also caused me to bristle. They set up his character as egotistical and a little cruel, and it becomes more difficult to cheer for his journey in this regard. Still, there are beautiful observations and a sense of growth in the end.
Morley is a good writer. His use of language and description or analogy is strong and interesting. The descriptions of preparation, provisioning, and mid-trip replenishing are fascinating. A chance to see the Northern Hemisphere in this way is intriguing.
The primary negatives about this book are two: (a) his pontificating about how progress and infrastructure have “ruined” the land that he would prefer to keep to himself, pristine and untouched, and (b) his observations about relationships which are colored by his own very selfish view of the world, and his patronizing view of women. The book was written by a selfish person and that shows through an otherwise well-written diary of a fantastic voyage.
I loved reading about the details of his adventure, the route, and how he managed the cold. I also found the stories of the people he met along the way interesting and amusing. There were a couple chapters where he waxed poetic about the cold, and infrastructure, and while I liked what he was saying, I'm not sure they warranted entire chapters all to themselves. The one part of the book that fell flat for me, and that has me wishing I could rate in 1/2 stars and give this a 3.5, was his description of his romantic relationships. The women in this book were noticeably one-dimensional. Perhaps he was trying not to offend anyone, and therefore didn't want to get into the nitty gritty of his love life. But, this is a memoir... getting into the nitty gritty is part of the deal. I felt like I knew more about people who gave him a ride down the road then I did about his wife. Regardless, it was an entertaining and inspiring book and I'd recommend it to folks looking for a good winter adventure tale.
MICHAEL KLEINER Business and Sports Editor The Norwegian American
Though named Anders, Anders Morley is not Norwegian, but his cross-country skiing journey across Canada had numerous Norwegian references in This Land of Snow: A Journey Across the North in Winter. The book is a memoir of his solo trek in 2012-2013, when he was in his early 30s.
Anders grew up in New Hampshire. His father got the four Morley boys interested in skiing, but it was Anders who developed a lifetime passion for skiing, particularly cross-country.
“To this day, I have a hard time thinking of skiing as a sport and have felt self-conscious the few times I’ve skied in prepared tracks among the athletic and sleek-suited crowd that frequents Nordic centers. For me, skiing is just the way you walk when there’s snow on the ground. It’s walking in cursive, and I love to walk.”
He met his Italian wife while studying in Germany, and they moved to Italy. He wanted a challenge and at the time, he felt his marriage was strained.
It didn’t occur to me how much advanced preparation he had to do. This wasn’t a matter of strapping on skis and shushing off. He had to have a tent, food, and other provisions. He pulled them on a sled.
The skis were designed by a Norwegian company that was familiar with building skis for long trips and different conditions. The length was shorter than normal cross-country skis and the width close to alpine skis. At each tip was a picture of Roald Amundsen.
“These dimensions gave them the right balance of maneuverability and stability for mixed conditions. They were moderately cambered, an important feature of ski design that gives users more or less spring each time they lift their feet, and also had a modest sidecut, the thinning at the waist typical of alpine skis, which makes the skis easier to control on downhill turns. Unlike most cross-country skis, my skis had metal edges, making them more responsive to aggressive footwork. Finally, two invisible slits in the bottom of each ski permitted me to attach the half-length skins I had just put on. These short climbing skins were a unique accessory—and a relatively new invention—that gave me some of the grip of full-length skins while leaving the skis more of their natural glide…It was a relief to be moving so much weight without feeling like I was being pushed into the ground by the sum of my belongings…It was still 140 pounds, but now at last I was skiing.”
Anders might not see a human for miles and hours. He wrote metaphors about the snow, wilderness, winter, and life; his means of survival; the people he met along the way, and his pontificating of his purpose before the trip and after.
When a truck or snowmobile would come along, they always stopped. When Anders would tell them what he was doing, they would invariably say, “Are you crazy?”
“After the transaction, he said, ‘So are you looking to kill yourself? That’s some lonely country you’re going into, and it’s damn cold. I mean cold. You know what cold is? You ever feel 50 below? I have. And I use a wall tent and a woodstove. It’s still cold.’”
Ahead of the journey he developed a network of people in towns who could be responsible for handling his next delivery of provisions and with whom he might stay when he got there. So, he had to estimate when he would get there. Thanks for the internet.
Though he was alone for the majority of the journey, his interactions with the people in the towns, their hospitality, assistance was the best part for me. You get some insight to why they live where they do. A few were Norwegian or had Norwegian ancestry. In these towns, there were also interviews with newspapers or radio stations and sometimes talks with students. There was a hint of sadness for me thinking the likelihood of him never seeing these people again.
There was a running battle about who the better explorer was, Fridtjof Nansen or Roald Amundsen. There were discussions about Norwegian society and the winter-adaptablity of Norwegians.
“What I needed now was more cheerful company. So, I decided it was time my skis had names. My left ski I dubbed Jackrabbit, after ‘Jackrabbit’ Johannsen, one of my lesser heroes, who is credited with having introduced cross-country skiing to eastern North America. He was a spirited man who lived to be 111 years old and skied to the end. On my right foot was Fridtjof, named for Fridtjof Nansen, a major hero of mine. Although Nansen never reached the pole he aimed for as his younger contemporary Amundsen did, I’ve always admired him because he realized there were more important things than exploring on skis and went on to distinguish himself as a scientist and to become one of the most important humanitarians of the 20th century.”
Anders was, at times, too philosophical. While there is a map of the trip at the beginning of the book, it would have been helpful to have the progress on the map at different junctures. Even though pictures would not have looked as good on a Kindle, it would have been great to see what he saw. Most of us will never experience it.
Expected a story of challenges, struggles, logistical nightmares, freezing, encountering wildlife, and all that is expected on a cross country solo skiing, but got a boring tale of hitching rides and meeting people. I like books that show the realities of such journeys, that paint a whole picture of what a cross-country skiing entitles, especially in a cold climate, so naturally I expected an account of exhilarating adventure, but this author was struggling to balance his actual experience with what he thought readers wanted to hear. His marriage story was a bit awkward, and his relationship with Zoe was totally cringe.
This book won't be for everyone, but if you are a fan of cross country skiing, type two fun, spending time alone, and especially if you've ever visited, or wanted to visit, northern Canada in the winter, then pick it up.
What enriching nourishment for the soul that craves and longs to be one with their natural surrounds of idyllic splendor and sprawling wilderness that reaches far beyond what the eyes can see. Anders Morley tells the story of his cross-country-ski adventure across the forbidding terrains of northern Canada in the dead of winter; from Prince Rupert, British Columbia, to the Winnipeg wilds of Manitoba.
Throughout Anders' trek, I empathized with his physical struggles as well his emotional, fighting between two extremes, an inner dichotomy that he hoped would clear up by the end of journey with an answer to the one question on his mind from the beginning to the end, "What am I doing here?" But I won't spoil the ending. I sympathized with his challenges and the physical strife he suffered, and reveled in the moments of triumph and joy he realized through the discovery of places and the cast of characters he met along the way.
Speaking of characters, there was one scene that really gave me chills when a driver stopped his truck ahead of Anders' trail one night and approached our journeyman in the dark. Despite standing only two feet apart, Anders never saw his face and didn't remember what he said, but he did remember that this mysterious stranger was there one moment and gone the next. I thought it may have been an apparition but later, our visitor in the night revealed himself to Anders as "the mysterious stranger."
Oftentimes while reading, Anders' poetic prose brings to life the natural beauty, bucolic splendor that surrounded him, so much so that I was reminded of my favorite travel writer, Patrick Leigh Fermor, and his own journey from England to Constantinople. I am reminded of so many splendid moments of that journey, scenes that still come to life when I think about them and the beautiful way that he described them.
When I reached the end of this book, I felt like I was saying good-bye to an old friend, whom I followed on an epic adventure through the Canadian wilderness. I recommend this to all those who seek adventure through vast landscapes of the wilderness.
"Mystery is a moving target and will always be somewhere. You don't need to be a romantic to take a moral cue from the observation that diversity and flexibility seem inherent in everything that is healthy and beautiful."
It was refreshing to read an adventure book where the author isn't a purist. From the start of his journey, Anders welcomed assistance from others (a ride here, a cup of coffee there, a beer) and changes to the plan. Diversity and flexibility defined the trip. Over the course of the book he seemed a little less drawn to "This Land of Snow" and more drawn to the characters who occupied the land of snow. They colored his days.
In the middle of his journey, he is invited to go hunting with two men who spot him skiing while driving. He declined because hunting would take him away from his current plans of reaching the next town. As he reflected on the encounter he wrote, "It was not the hunting I regretted. It was for a chance to learn something-and these two seemed like they could teach me-about the non-necessity of the relationship between efficacy and planning that I wished I had gone with them." Just as Anders recognized the trail would teach him things, he also recognized every stranger he encountered could teach him something. Most of them were after all, very familiar with all of the trails and roads while he was not.
Some of the narrative was a bit clunky. The majority of the book is about the trip, but the last couple of chapters take a hard turn toward introspection that would have been nice to see throughout the book instead of in a chunk. But, some of the introspective thoughts at the end were quite beautiful. I will end this review with one!
"To stay alive in the wilderness in winter, you have to move as fast as possible. When you are lost in the wilderness of human living, on the other hand, you must move slowly and deliberately to find you way again."
I love books about naturalists and journey-ists. This was an interesting read to learn more about Western Canada. Also learned some about long-distance cross-country skiing. Honestly, I could have used more description about the landscapes and setting. Also, when someone says 'Across the North', I really think they mean ACROSS Canada - his journey wraps up in Winnipeg (in Manitoba). An awesome feat, but I was thinking 'where's the rest of the book?' Seriously, adding 'west' to A Journey Across the North[west]' would have set up no unrealistic expectations. Probably a very small thing to notice.
This is an unusual adventure story, in that although the author originally intends to ski and camp across northern Canada, he also gets plenty of rides through difficult stretches, and spends many nights indoors. One gets the sense that his enthusiasm for the skiing and the never-ending cold gradually wane, as his appreciation for the friendly people he meets and their warm homes increases. The book is well-written, and the author is introspective enough to realize that he didn't quite accomplish what he set out to do. Nevertheless he had some harrowing experiences and interesting adventures. I enjoyed reading this.
Anders Morley sets off to cross-country ski from Prince Rupert, British Columbia to Swan River, Manitoba during winter. I enjoyed following his journey through the back country of Canada and his encounters with people along the way. It was interesting as he told about how he dealt with the extreme cold and the various weather conditions.
I found his motivation for the trip to be a little confusing. He talked about the dissolution of his marriage to be one of the reasons for the trip. I found this to be rather disheartening and not a very valid reason for planning such an adventure.
I got into this book after I heard a friend’s story of cross country skiing in Norway. (In some parts in Norway, people actually ride their skis to go grocery shopping!) The book is the author’s personal adventure to cross Canada with his skis and his passion how skiing became significant component of his life. It was an interesting read! Also, it made me to imagine myself skiing somewhere in Norwegian woods! I think I have just earned one more item in my bucket lists.
This was not quiet what I had in mind, thinking he actually trekked across the entire North during winter. Pleasant enough account, interesting people were met along the way. Many writers would have 'plugged' the brand of equipment, he did not. I found the account of BC towns of interest, as well as Alberta and some of Yukon, having been to some in 1960's summer time. Great complement to the truly Friendly Manitoba inhabitants. This was not a book I'd read or listen to twice.
This was a very interesting account of one man's solo, self imposed odyssey. It was a very granular look at the flavors of life in different regions of the middle Canadian latitudes. However, I found parts to be inconongruently poetic, pessimistic and personal, all with a flow reminiscent of stream of consciousness, but maybe that's the point. Overall, an entertaining read that has me rearing for adventure in the great Canadian wilderness!
“The traveler and the trail need each other.” Fantastic book! I couldn’t put it down. Adventurous and inspiring, Anders is the “tough and tender” hero I wanted to cheer on every step of the way. His writing is excellent. Anders is poetic but very real, his courage in facing such an amazing challenge really inspired me.
Good read. A little slow in some sections but interesting in it's geographical references of Canada. Anders as the main character was authentic in his portrayal of himself. Expressing his true thoughts and feelings even those parts of him that could be unlikeable. All in all a good book for those who enjoy outdoor adventure stories.
Anders Morley's keen insights and lively narrative make this travel/adventure tale an engaging companion. A journey as much into the soul as it is into the chilly heart of sparsely-populated Canada, This Land of Snow is well-worth your time.
The author is alone in the Canadian winter, skiing from west to east, sleeping in a tent, and trying to stay warm. Except when he is picked up or meets up with someone, or treats himself to a motel. Along the way, he discovers why.
While I enjoyed the Author's descriptions of the North and its People, the Author's egotistical tone grew tiresome by the end, especially when he attempted to attach meaning and insight to the experience, or in talking about his relationships. 2.5 stars.
I don't understand how this won an Outdoors award. The concept was wonderful and I eagerly anticipated to read it based on its subject matter, but frankly found a snow trip across the north of Canada boring as hell.
As a skier and someone who loves solo-travel, I was excited to pick this book up. Unfortunately it was hard to get through and I found myself liking the author less and less as I progressed.
This book takes you on a journey elsewhere, allowing you to return to your own life with a fresh perspective.
This book is an extreme adventure travelogue that weaves in and out of rugged encounters with the brutality of the cold natural world and tender encounters with the warmth of humanity. Anders fills this account of his transformative adventure with rich human color, musings about the nature of life, explorations of our complex relationship with the natural world, and the value of human contact. As a man with a desk job who rarely does anything dangerous or extreme, I was able to live vicariously through this book. It took me on an adventure that allowed me to evaluate my own life with a new appreciation and perspective. I commend this adventure to anyone, and fully expect that your journey will yield similarly satisfying results. The audible version narrated by Basil Sands is well done, and another delightful way to enjoy this book.