This is the title of the book I am reading. Below is a short synopsis of the story.
In April 1992 a young man from a well-to-do family hitchhiked to Alaska and walked alone into the wilderness north of Mt. McKinley. His name was Christopher Johnson McCandless. He had given $25,000 in savings to charity, abandoned his car and most of his possessions, burned all the cash in his wallet, and invented a new life for himself. Four months later, his decomposed body was found by a moose hunter. How McCandless came to die is the unforgettable story of Into the Wild.
The author traces the last year or so of Chris McCandless' life, and other *treks* he had taken, through interviews with people who met him and his own journals. He also tells stories of other people who have undertaken similar journeys.
In some ways I feel a jealousy of these people who were willing, or able, to just head out into the wilderness with only what they can carry on their back and to experience life in it's most basic form. I long to see places few people have seen, go places that will challenge me both physically and emotionally. No one to answer to, no schedules to keep, free to go where you want and when you want. I know in reality I need a place to call home, I need stability, security, I need to know I am going to be able to pay next months bills. So - where does this longing come from? Is it my alter ego? I have hardly made conventional choices in my life so it really can't be rebellion against the conventional. Maybe just longing for a younger body and to still have those options over to me.
I Am Not Your Trigger
1 week ago