After the untimely death of her beloved mother from cancer,
Cheryl Strayed, 22 at the time, was left with an all-encompassing grief and a disintegrating marriage. Directionless and searching, an impromptu decision set her compass north. North from the Mojave Desert through California, north across Oregon, and north still through Washington state across the vast, beautiful, and unforgiving stretches of the Pacific Crest Trail. Having never gone backpacking before, Strayed embarked on an 1,100-mile,three-month solo hike that tested both her physical and mental endurance, and ultimately restored her sense of self. A deeply honest memoir about mother and daughter, solitude and courage, and regaining footing one step at a time,
Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail(Knopf) was
excerpted in the March issue of Vogue.
We caught up with the writer, who was home in Oregon and about to embark on her book tour, to discuss what she contemplated during all those solitary hours, what she wore on the trail, and a secret identity at long last revealed.
You’ve written and published a novel, but this is your first nonfiction book. Were you planning on writing it throughout the hike, or was it only later that you decided to turn the material into a memoir?
When I was hiking it didn’t really occur to me to write about it—at the time I really thought of myself as a fiction writer. I felt that I couldn’t tell the story until I had lived more of my life and came to a deeper understanding of what that trip meant to me, and what I had to say about it. A lot of people go off and have fun adventures, or hard adventures, and their impulse is to write about them right away. What really makes a difference is having some perspective on what happened.
What did you think about during those remote months on the trail?
The hike was a really great chance for me to think through just about every aspect of my life. One thing any backpacker will tell you is that it’s tedious and monotonous. You’re bored sometimes, so you really have to make the fun in your head. I would find myself lost in long, uninterrupted sessions of thinking deeply about important relationships in my life. One thing that was really striking was how much I missed music. I didn’t realize how much I would long for it—in the same way I longed for food.
As a woman alone in the woods, you must have had times when you were afraid. How did you deal with that fear?
That is the number one question I’ve been asked when I talk to people about the book, and the answer is complicated. The only way to do something like this is to decide that you aren’t going to let fear rule you. Before I set out I had to really make an agreement with myself, inside myself, not be afraid. I calmed myself down—a healthy way of mind control.
What kind of people did you encounter—did you run into anyone menacing?
Most people were incredibly kind and unique. There was a wonderful kinship and camaraderie among hikers. I did encounter a pair of men who were bow hunting. They were the only experience I had on the trail where I felt like perhaps they were going to do me harm.
And what about your day-to-day fashion and beauty ritual? It must have been difficult to carry your whole life in a pack on your back!
I wore the same thing every day: shorts, a sports bra, a T-shirt, socks, and boots. On cold days I had fleece leggings, a long-sleeved top, and a fleece anorak. I had two pair of socks. Every few weeks I might get a shower somewhere if I was lucky, and then I’d get a chance to wash my clothes. When I first set out I brought deodorant, and was laughed off the trail! I chucked it out a couple of weeks into the trip, which is completely contrary to the way that I am. You just go into a very different mode.
What would you say was your biggest takeaway from this experience?
It gave me a new perspective on my worth and my abilities, and it put back in scale what matters. It made me both more humble and stronger, and gave me a sense of how small I was in this world. Ultimately, the journey made my life more serious. Though I finished the hike two days before my 27th birthday, I think of it in some way as the end of my 20s—a growing up and coming of age.
In addition to the buzz surrounding the book, you came out with some exciting news last night, breaking your anonymity and stepping forward as Sugar, the advice writer behind the The Rumpus’s “Dear Sugar” column. What has the experience of writing an advice column been like? Has it been difficult to keep yourself from revealing your identity?Revelatory and rewarding. I’ve learned so much as both a writer and a human. When I first began writing the “Dear Sugar” column I was constantly asking myself who was I to give people advice. But what I learned as Sugar—which really I knew all along—is that words have transformational power. In the intimate exchange of letters I found a world of possibility. It opened up my heart.
And yes! I’m a terrible keeper of my own secrets, especially one about an experience that has been as absorbing as this. Once I was in a cafe in Portland and the woman at the next table and I began chatting and in the course of our conversation she strongly recommend I visit this web site called The Rumpus so I could read this advice column called “Dear Sugar.” It was so painful not to tell her that in fact I was Sugar, but I didn’t. I’ve been less circumspect with my friends and acquaintances. Part of the reason I decided to reveal my identity now is I couldn’t keep quiet about it any longer.
http://www.vogue.com/873595/walking-the-walk-an-interview-with-cheryl-strayed-author-of-wild-from-lost-to-found-on-the-pacific-crest-trail/
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