Cheryl Strayed

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

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Selected to be read on Radio Four's Book of the Week.
'One of the best books I've read in the last five or ten years… Wild is angry, brave, sad, self-knowing, redemptive, raw, compelling, and brilliantly written, and I think it's destined to be loved by a lot of people, men and women, for a very long time.' --Nick Hornby
At twenty-six, Cheryl Strayed thought she had lost everything. In the wake of her mother's rapid death from cancer, her family disbanded and her marriage crumbled. With nothing to lose, she made the most impulsive decision of her life: to walk eleven-hundred miles of the west coast of America — from the Mojave Desert, through California and Oregon, and into Washington state — and to do it alone. She had no experience of long-distance hiking and the journey was nothing more than a line on a map. But it held a promise — a promise of piecing together a life that lay in ruins at her feet.
Strayed's account captures the agonies — both mental and physical — of her incredible journey; how it maddened and terrified her, and how, ultimately, it healed her. Wild is a brutal memoir of survival, grief and redemption: a searing portrayal of life at its lowest ebb and at its highest tide.
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439 printed pages
Original publication


    Irina Nevskikhshared an impression6 years ago
    👍Worth reading

    потрясающая книга о Пути и поиске себя

    b2060880335shared an impression3 years ago
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    💡Learnt A Lot

    Loved this book. Feels as if I've walked the trail myself.

    Sak BMshared an impression6 years ago


    igor7700535has quoted6 years ago
    before I pitched my boot over the edge of that mountain, I’d been pitching
    Thomas Guiguehas quoted6 years ago
    with all my might and watched it fall into the lush trees and out of my life.
    I was alone. I was barefoot. I was twenty-six years old and an orphan too. An actual stray, a stranger had observed a couple of weeks before, when I’d told him my name and explained how very loose I was in the world. My father left my life when I was six. My mother died when I was twenty-two. In the wake of her death, my stepfather morphed from the person I considered my dad into a man I only occasionally recognized. My two siblings scattered in their grief, in spite of my efforts to hold us together, until I gave up and scattered as well.
    maggiecalamita777has quoted4 months ago
    There was a first aid kit in a pristine red canvas case that snapped shut and a roll of toilet paper in a ziplock bag and a stainless-steel trowel that had its own black sheath that said U-Dig-It on the front.

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