I started reading Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail (Vintage) by Cheryl Strayed with some resistance. I had heard many people gushing about Wild, and, far too often, I am disappointed by books people gush about. I tried to temper my expectations as I started the book. My resistance faded quickly. Strayed writes honestly, sometimes brutally, about her life and her experiences. The words often felt so raw they rubbed against my comfort zone bringing old insecurities, stupid decisions, and brazen moves to the surface. I winced in recognition of emotional states and shook at my head at decisions I would never have made because I wanted to change the trajectory of Strayed experiences. Wild immerses the reader in Strayed's decision making, or sometimes lack thereof. Strayed takes the reader along on a ride that at times feels like being pulled onto a trail without full knowledge of what one is doing just as was Strayed's experience. I felt immersed in the book to the point, my feet ached from her shoes as she hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and my back tensed as she struggled with her backpack. My heart ached as she faced her mother's illness and death. I winced more than once as she struggled with family issues. As Strayed recounted her encounters with people both on the trail and off, she proves no matter how many people surround us, we can find ourselves alone and no matter how alone we feel, there are people with whom we can connect. Wild offers a wild hike through one woman's journey of healing and discovery. ( )

An amazingly compelling memoir and personal journey. It's Bill bryson but for a lost, suffering young woman. So really not Bill at all. A recommended read for most. A good bit of adult subject matter, about which some will find disturbing. I will be seeking out her other work. ( )

This book does one thing really really well - it inspires you to want to backpack. Or, at least, that's what it did for me.

Otherwise, it was a tough book to get through. There are a few odd parts and a few gross parts I really could have done without - but all in all it was a really interesting story about backpacking. It truly is a LONG way to back pack and I'm kind of sad Oregon didn't get more mention in the book. It was what I was hoping for the most - since it's where I'm from. I've only backpacked the Eagle Creek trail part and it was beautiful. ( )

It is a memoir so it is hard to criticize the book without criticizing the person. I found it so sad that Cheryl was so unprepared for life and for the trek which she took on the PCT. ( )

I started reading this book for my book group and got to the part where Cheryl first starts out on the trail... then I injured my hip and my Grandma died. I couldn't do much for about five days except for lie on the floor in pain and cry. I wasn't sure if I could handle a book about grief at the time.

However, I was surprised that it helped me. Normally I might have given it four stars, because it wasn't perfect, but I have to give it five because it was exactly the book that I needed at the time that I needed it.

When I was young, although I didn't lose either of my parents, I did lose the security of them being married. Cheryl tried to fill the hole in her heart by having meaningless sex and experimenting with drugs. I tried to fill it by finding someone who wouldn't leave me and latching onto them. I never met with quite as much disaster as she did, but I probably could have. So I don't see myself as really being in a position to judge. It's hard for me to see how many people on Goodreads seem to revel in Cheryl's stupidity and love to hate her story because of it. I hope none of them ever have to experience their sense of security being ripped out from under them. Although I have to admit, I'm not completely devoid of judgment myself... I had trouble believing the part about not even having tested her pack to see if she could carry the weight before setting out! Ha! Sorry, Cheryl.

Anyway, I was saddened by the part about leaving her husband, but I kind of understood it. She'd never had a dad. She was looking for one. Her first husband was someone who would take care of her. She didn't need a caretaker, though, she needed to become an adult who was capable of taking care of herself and who wanted to engage in life despite her loss. Maybe she could have had that with the first husband, but as readers we don't know that. Again, can't really judge.

It was the trail part that helped me. One of my book group members couldn't see Cheryl's emotional change happening, but even though a lot of the story focused on the events that happened on the trail and the people she met, I could understand how choosing to face something difficult could make a person want to live even after a terrible loss. The sheer physical difficulties of this thing she'd decided to do forced her to continue, and by physically continuing, she was able to realize that she wanted to emotionally continue as well.

I read a lot of this book while taking bubble baths, something that was always part of staying at Grandma's house. I was reading it in the bathtub when I got to the part about the horse. Normally I think I could have gotten through something like that without getting really upset, but being so emotionally raw, the scene horrified me and I sobbed uncontrollably. If anyone else had been in the house, it could have been really awkward. So be warned... if you haven't read this book... and you're going through a lot... there's a horse. And a lot of blood. That's all I'm going to say.

Near the end, Cheryl shared this memory:

"I went to the river and squatted down and splashed my face. It was narrow and shallow here, so late in the summer and so high up, barely bigger than a stream. Where was my mother? I wondered. I'd carried her so long, staggering beneath her weight.

On the other side of the river, I let myself think.

And something inside of me released."

When I read that, something inside of me did too.

I'd been asked to write my Grandma's obituary--how do you sum up a life in only a couple hundred words? I tried, limping back and forth to my computer and barely getting anything down each time, distracting myself with other things before I would have to think about it too hard. After I finished reading Wild, I thought Okay. I can do this. Just try. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to write, and when I was done, I felt like I could begin to face the fact that she was gone. Her life was laid out in the past tense, and I had written the story. At least mentally, I had hiked the trail with Cheryl Strayed, and my "new normal" could begin. ( )