Seven Pillars of Wisdom: Thoughts

Let me begin by saying, it took me almost two years to finish this book.

Seven Pillars of Wisdom is the autobiographical account of T.E. Lawrence as he served in the British Armed Forces during the Arab Revolt of 1916-1918. Lawrence makes it clear that this book “…is not the history of the Arab movement, but just of what happened to me in it. It is the narrative of what I tried to do in Arabia, and of some of what I saw there.”

I find his use of the word “some” to be one of the greatest understatements I have ever come across. Lawrence described nearly all of what he saw there. This was not a high level overview of major events. This was a day-by-day and sometimes even hour-by-hour account of everything he did, heard, and saw. This is why it took me nearly two years to finish. (Reading a day-by-day account of a two year conflict should take two years, right?)

With that out of the way, I’ll admit that this was an epic that was worth the time it took to read. Is it a page turner? No. Is Lawrence the romantic hero so many make him out to be? I don’t think so. But he did some amazing things. He thrived in a world completely foreign to most of us.

In his early explorations, he was constantly in awe of the life and spirit of the Arabs he journeyed with and of the kinship they felt for their desert. In one passage he described exploring a ruined palace with several of his companions:

”…which the Arabs believed was made by a prince of the border as a desert palace for his queen. The clay of its building was said to have been kneaded not with water but, for greater richness, with the precious essential oils of flowers. My guides, sniffing the air like dogs, led me from one crumbling room to another, saying, ‘This is Jessamine, this ambergris, this rose.’ But at last Dahoum drew me: ‘Come and smell the very sweetest scent of all’: and we went into the main lodging, to the gaping window sockets of its eastern face, and there drank with open mouths of the effortless, empty, endless wind of the desert, throbbing past.”

Lawrence’s main role during the Arab revolt was to be the link between the British forces and the Arab forces, and to convince the Arab leaders to coordinate their efforts with the British. To gain the trust of his companions, he abandoned the comforts of Western living and tried to emulate the lifestyle and dress of the desert. He even carried this to the extreme. When Arabs journey through the desert and come across a well, they will drink their full, almost to bursting, and then they will continue their journey without carrying any water with them. They will do this even if the next well is hundreds of miles away. It is a sign of weakness to carry water into the desert. In this custom, and in all others, Lawrence proved himself a true and faithful companion to the Arabs, and as a result they followed him into battle with unquestioning faith.

Much of the work that occupied Lawrence and his companions was undermining the efficiency of the Turkish armed forces. In a nutshell, this involved numerous demolition raids on the Hejaz railway. They would sneak up at night on their camels, plant explosives under the tracks, and then wait until dawn for a passing supply train. In time, Lawrence led his men up the Arabian Peninsula all the way to Damascus, and with the support of the British troops overthrew the Ottoman government and gained Arab independence. The day after their liberation, Lawrence rode into Damascus with the Arab leaders:

“When we came in, there had been some miles of people greeting us: now there were thousands for every hundred then. Every man, woman, and child in this city of a quarter-million souls was out on the streets: and as the miracle of victory was at last confirmed, they waited only the spark of our appearance to unchain their spirits. Damascus went mad with joy. The men tossed up their tarbushes to cheer, the women tore off their veils. Householders threw their flowers, their hangings, their carpets into the road before us. Their wives leaned through the lattices and splashed cups and vases, even bath-dippers of scent at us… We English had been too long free to keep even a memory of its first delirious taste: so that this named gratitude and thanks from a hundred thousand voices broke us with the humiliation of over-great honor.”

The most difficult part of this book for me was Lawrence himself. As I stated before, I do not doubt the greatness of what he accomplished, but I do not think he was a very likeable person. He even said that much of what he did wasn’t out of any great ambition of his own, but merely out of curiosity, to see if he could. To this end, he would often play with the emotions of others. It gave him great satisfaction to treat someone roughly, and then in the next breath treat them with great kindness. Then he would run away and leave them wondering what sort of strange creature he was. Lawrence recognizes the perverseness of this, and on his 30^th birthday goes into a state of deep reflection about his true nature. He emerges from this personal inventory with the conclusion that he does not like himself.

I recognize that to achieve great things, a man doesn’t have to be perfect. All men are flawed, and those (like Lawrence) who admit their flaws and move forward anyway, may deserve even greater respect. What Lawrence did was great. There is no denying that. He set out to accomplish the impossible, and whatever his reasons were, he stuck with it and in the end came off conqueror.

“This therefore is a faded dream of time when I went down into the dust and noise of the Eastern market-places, and with my brain and muscles, with sweat and constant thinking, made others see my visions coming true. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, and make it possible. This I did.”

My rating: 6 out of 10

June's Book: Seven Pillars of Wisdom

Seven Pillars of Wisdom is an unusual and rich work. It encompasses an account of the Arab Revolt against the Turks during the First World War alongside general Middle Eastern and military history, politics, adventure and drama. It is also a memoir of the soldier known as 'Lawrence of Arabia'.Lawrence is a fascinating and controversial figure and his talent as a vivid and imaginative writer shines through on every page of this, his masterpiece. Seven Pillars of Wisdom provides a unique portrait of this extraordinary man and an insight into the birth of the Arab nation. 

(Summary from Goodreads.com)

Into Thin Air: Thoughts

1996 was the single deadliest year in the history of Mount Everest expeditions. Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air chronicles the events leading up to the May 10, 1996 summit attempt where 8 people lost their lives and many others were in danger of losing theirs as well.

I know this is a famous book, perhaps one of the most widely read from the whole National Geographic Adventure list, but I had a hard time getting into it. Something about me just automatically goes cold when I find out that one of these adventure books is written by a journalist, whose main purpose of going on their adventure was to write about it. It’s difficult for me to put these adventurers into the same category as an Earnest Shackleton or a John Muir. That being said, I do respect the theme of the story that Krakauer set out to write. He was commissioned to write a magazine article about the commercialization of Mount Everest and the associated risks and repercussions. Interestingly, this month’s Issue of National Geographic Magazine had an excellent article on this exact issue. The thrust of the argument is that commercialization of the mountain has led to overcrowding, which is making the mountain more dangerous. More climbers with less experience are crowding the slopes and as a result, many have to sit around at dangerously high altitudes just waiting for their turn up a rope. Krakauer spoke of this when he was trying to descend after his summit and he had to wait around in the “death zone” while waiting for the group below him to clear out. Sitting around for two hours in the death zone (above 26,000 feet) is dangerous for anyone, but more especially for an inexperienced climber.

“Above the South Col, up in the Death Zone, survival is to no small degree a race against the clock… Depending on each person’s acclimatization and physiological makeup, we would still be able to function above the South Col—but not well, and not for long. We would instantly become more vulnerable to HAPE, HACE, hypothermia, impaired judgment, and frostbite. The risk of dying would skyrocket.”

Another problem associated with the overcrowding of Everest is the mass amounts of waste produced by the hordes of climbers. This isn’t so much a problem at the lower camps, where garbage can easily be carried off the mountain, but in the higher camps there are piles of trash and human excrement that have been building up for years. A related problem is what to do with all of the human bodies scattered all over the mountain. The slopes of Everest are littered with the frozen remains of hundreds of unlucky climbers. Many of them have fallen down cliffs or crevasses and been lost, but some remain just off the beaten path. Krakauer encountered two such corpses, one which had been on the slopes for three years, and one higher up which had been there for 10-15 years.

“The first body had left me badly shaken for several hours; the shock of encountering the second wore off almost immediately. Few of the climbers trudging by had given either corpse more than a passing glance. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement on the mountain to pretend that these desiccated remains weren’t real—as if none of us dared to acknowledge what was at stake here.”

In his book, Krakauer presents a possible solution to the overcrowding of Mount Everest, and after reading his story, I am inclined to agree with his proposal. He believes that no one should be allowed to climb Everest with supplemental oxygen. For one thing, this would reduce the amount of litter on the mountain, but it would also cause people to prepare much more intensely for their summit attempts. Perhaps people would take the mountain more seriously if they had to face it head on without the crutch of an oxygen tank to support them. Or perhaps only serious climbers would make the attempt. All I know is that it is an idea worth considering.

All this being said, the National Geographic article was quick to point out that although more people flock to Everest each year, the overall mortality rate has not gone up significantly in the past decade. More experienced guides and better technology are making the mountain safer than it has ever been. For instance, on May 19, 2012, 234 people reached the summit and only 4 climbers died. Even so, I can’t help but think how bad it could be if something went wrong on a day like that. If a freak change in the weather occurred, the death toll could be catastrophic. Basically, my main takeaway from this book is that I’m never going to try and climb Mount Everest.

“In the midst of all the postmortem ratiocination, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that climbing mountains will never be a safe, predictable, rule-bound enterprise. This is an activity that idealizes risk taking; the sport’s most celebrated figures have always been those who stick their necks out the farthest and manage to get away with it. Climbers, as a species, are simply not distinguished by an excess of prudence. And that holds especially true for Everest climbers: when presented with a chance to reach the planet’s highest summit, history shows, people are surprisingly quick to abandon good judgment.”

My rating: 6 out of 10

May's Book: Into Thin Air

Reeling from the brain-altering effects of oxygen depletion, Jon Krakauer reached the summit of Mt. Everest in the early afternoon of May 10, 1996. He hadn’t slept in fifty-seven hours. As he turned to begin the perilous descent from 29,028 feet (roughly the cruising altitude of an Airbus jetliner), twenty other climbers were still pushing doggedly to the top, unaware that the sky had begun to roil with clouds…

This is the terrifying story of what really happened that fateful day at the top of the world, during what would be the deadliest season in the history of Everest. In this harrowing yet breathtaking narrative, Krakauer takes the reader along with his ill-fated expedition, step by precarious step, from Katmandu to the mountain’s pinnacle where, plagued by a combination of hubris, greed, poor judgment, and plain bad luck, they would fall prey to the mountain’s unpredictable fury.

(Summary from the back of the book) 

Kon-Tiki: Thoughts

Thor Heyerdahl had a crazy idea, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get anyone to take him seriously. He believed that the Polynesian islands were peopled by South Americans who journeyed across the ocean on large balsawood rafts. However, despite his extensive research and supporting arguments, he could not get the scientific community to believe that it was even possible to cross an entire ocean on few logs lashed together. So, in order to prove them wrong, Heyerdahl did just that.

Kon-Tiki is the thrilling account of a group of Norwegians who sailed from Peru across 4,000 miles of ocean on a balsa wood raft, arriving safely in the Polynesian islands after 101 days at sea. They lived almost entirely off of the bounty of the sea and never wanted for food or water. Because their raft was so low in the water, less than a foot off the surface, they would often dine on the fish that had been washed aboard during the night. It was the job of the first person up in the morning to gather the flying fish that had landed on deck during the night and fry them up for breakfast. Sometimes they would wake up with fish in their sleeping bags, and once even a baby octopus.

“The sea contains many surprises for him who has his floor on a level with the surface and drifts along slowly and noiselessly. A sportsman who breaks his way through the woods may come back and say that no wild life is to be seen. Another may sit down on a stump and wait, and often rustlings and cracklings will begin and curious eyes peer out. So it is on the sea, too. We usually plow across it with roaring engines and piston strokes, with the water foaming round our bow. Then we come back and say that there is nothing to see far out on the ocean.”

 If they wanted to eat something more substantial than flying fish, they could hook a dolphin in a matter of minutes. Occasionally they would dine on shark meat as well.

“We had not been long at sea before the fist shark visited us. And sharks soon became an almost daily occurrence… If there was a high sea, the shark might be lifted up by the waves high above our own level, and we had a direct side view of the shark as in a glass case as it swam toward us in a dignified manner with its fussy retinue of small pilot fish ahead of its jaws. For a few seconds it looks as if both the shark and its striped companions would swim right on board, but then the raft would lean over gracefully to leeward, rise over the ridge of the waves, and descend to the other side.”

Toward the end of their voyage they even became very adept at catching sharks… with their bare hands! At one point they had nine large sharks on board their deck and had to be very careful to remember which ones were fully dead and which ones were just waiting for the men to come a bit closer before taking their final revenge.

The most intense part of the story was during their second big storm when one of the crew was accidentally washed overboard by a wave. Because of the nature of their raft, they could not steer in any direction other than that in which the wind was blowing. Experience had taught them that anything caught in their wake was lost forever, and there they stood watching their companion float away, unable to do a thing about it. I don’t want to ruin the story, but through an act of unusual courage and sacrifice the man was saved and all members of the team safely continued their voyage west.

I really got into this book and enjoyed it immensely. Not only do I believe in the truth of Heyerdahl’s theory (see the Book of Mormon) but I found the unique nature of their voyage fascinating and felt myself longing to chop down some trees and give it a try. These words by the author sum up for me some of the true majesty of the experience.

“Coal-black seas towered up on all sides, and a glittering myriad of tropical stars drew a faint reflection from plankton on the water. The world was simple—stars in the darkness. Whether it was 1947 B.C. or A.D. suddenly became of no significance. We lived, and that we felt with alert intensity. We realized that life had been full for men before the technical age also—in fact, fuller and richer in many ways than the life of modern man. Time and evolution somehow ceased to exist; all that was real and that mattered were the same today as they had always been and would always be.”

My rating: 9 out of 10

April's Book: Kon-Tiki

“Am going to cross Pacific on a wooden raft to support a theory that the South Sea islands were peopled from Peru. Will you come? …Reply at once.” That is how six brave and inquisitive men came to seek a dangerous path to test a scientific theory. On a primitive raft made of forty-foot balsa logs and named “Kon-Tiki” in honor of a legendary sun king, Heyerdahl and five companions deliberately risked their lives to show that the ancient Peruvians could have made the 4,300-mile voyage to the Polynesian islands on a similar craft.

(Summary from Goodreads.com)

Running the Amazon: Thoughts

Joe Kane’s Running the Amazon was an incredible journey trapped inside a mediocre book. That probably sounds harsher than I mean it to be, but I think a journey by river across the entire South American continent deserves better than average travel memoirs writing. Though not nearly as bad as Eric Hansen’s Stranger in the Forest, I feel like the author spent too much time focusing on petty things, like arguments between expedition members, and (like Hansen) never failed to mention anything even remotely indecent that occurred during his seven month journey. He also spent a surprising amount of time sleeping in hotels. It’s a shame, because I feel like Kane had a lot more potential than that with this book. He started out just like Hansen, as a “non-adventurer” whose main purpose in traveling abroad was to try and write a bestseller. However, over time, I noticed a slight change in Kane. As the expedition team grew smaller and smaller, he stepped up to the plate and managed to grow beyond this narrow focus, and in the end, he truly achieved something remarkable.

The journey began high in the Peruvian Andes, not more than 200 miles from the Pacific Ocean. From the top of the continental divide, Kane and three of his companions traveled over 4,000 miles from frozen glaciers, through whitewater canyons, and down the entire length of the Amazon to the Atlantic Ocean.

The most exciting part of the book was the section of the river they traveled called the Acobamba Abyss. This section of the river was high in the mountains and canyon walls were so tall and narrow that in places they appeared to connect at the top. The river was riddled with class VI whitewater rapids with little or no way around. (A class VI rapid is one that poses extreme threat to life with little chance of rescue.) The team would portage around the class VI rapids that they could, but many of them were unavoidable because of the steep canyon walls. It is remarkable that they didn’t have more accidents, especially since all but one of the team took a swim in the whitewater. This part of the book was exciting and easy to get lost in, unlike later in the book when they seemed to go from one river-town bar to another.

Though I didn’t love the book, I do want to give credit where credit is due. Joe Kane and his companion Piotr Chmielinski traveled the entire length of the world’s longest river entirely under their own power. They were the first, and as far as I know the only, ones to accomplish this incredible feat. They battled freezing temperatures, whitewater, and altitude sickness in the high Andes, and in the Amazon basin they faced scorching heat, wild animals, disease, narco-traffickers, and exhaustion. Nonetheless, they endured… and they didn’t stop paddling until the water beneath them became salty. And for that I have to tip my hat to them.

  

My rating: 5 out of 10

March's Book: Running the Amazon

The voyage began in the lunar terrain of the Peruvian Andes, where coca leaf is the only remedy against altitude sickness. It continued down rapids so fierce they could swallow a raft in a split second. It ended six months and 4,200 miles later, where the Amazon runs gently into the Atlantic. Joe Kane's personal account of the first expedition to travel the entirety of the world's longest river is a riveting adventure in the tradition of Joseph Conrad, filled with death-defying encounters: with narco-traffickers and Sendero Luminoso guerrillas and nature at its most unforgiving. Not least of all, Running the Amazon shows a polyglot group of urbanized travelers confronting their wilder selves -- their fear and egotism, selflessness and courage.

(Summary from the back of the book)

Minus 148°: Thoughts

Minus 148° is the thrilling account of the first winter ascent of Mount McKinley. The tale of tragedy, triumph, trial, and rescue is enough to satisfy any adventure seeker. For me though, I enjoyed this book because of the people I read about. Two men in particular inspired me and make me want to emulate their examples.

The first was a climber named Shiro Nishimae. I loved reading about Shiro and his willingness to give his all for those around him. On those cold, dark mornings, when everyone stayed in the warmth of their sleeping bags as long as possible, Shiro was always the first one out of bed and would begin making warm drinks for his companions. When there was a job to be done, Shiro did it, no questions asked. When the team found their camp was exposed to high winds, Shiro set out in search of a suitable site for a snow cave, and completely exhausted his strength digging it out before relief came. The author noted that, even though Shiro was the smallest of the group, he “always tried to do as much of the strenuous work as anyone.” He took the initiative in a “gentle but forceful manner” often considering the well being of his companions before his own.

The ultimate demonstration of Shiro’s sacrifice was when he gave up his chance at the summit to return to camp with another climber who had become discouraged. That decision saved at least one life when trouble arose later, and may have saved the lives of the whole team.

Another climber that inspired me was affectionately called “Pirate” by the rest of the team. Ray Genet was a large man with a thick black beard and an infectious smile. He received his nickname on the day the men were sorting out their climbing gear when, instead of writing his name on everything as his companions were doing, he drew a large skull and crossbones on each of his belongings. Pirate had next to no climbing experience before joining the team, but his endless enthusiasm and his refusal to be left out convinced the others to bring him along. Throughout the climb, Pirate inspired everyone with his constant war whoops and his cheerful nature. However, it wasn’t until starvation threatened him and his friends that Pirate showed just exactly what kind of man he really was.

Coming down the mountain, Art, Dave, and Pirate got stuck in a blizzard. They managed to dig a snow cave for shelter, but not until after Art had frozen his hands and Pirate had frozen his feet. It was in this setting that they experienced their lowest temperature of the climb. With winds over 130 mph, and -45° temperatures outside they calculated “an equivalent wind-chill temperature somewhere off the end of the chart; the last figure on the chart was minus 148°.” The men remained in this setting for several days, not being able to move for fear that the extreme winds would blow them off the side of the mountain. Soon they were low on gas, and knew that their only chance for survival was to find the extra bottle of gas that had been stashed somewhere outside in the storm. The men lay in their sleeping bags for hours, not wanting to be the one to volunteer to go out into the storm, possibly never to return. Art was the warmest of the three, and Dave had not frozen any of his limbs like the other had done, but still, neither of them wanted to leave the shelter of the cave. Without saying a word, Pirate got out of his sleeping bag, pulled on his boots and left the cave, returning with the can of gas that saved all of their lives. Though he was by far in the worst condition of the three, he made no excuses and did what had to be done. I admire this act, and this man who so unassumingly took one for the team.

Men like this remind me that these adventure books are about so much more than just exploration and discovery. They are about ordinary men facing whatever the world can throw at them. And some men, when they are brought down to their lowest, can rise up and teach all the rest of us how to truly live a life worth living.

My rating: 8 out of 10

February's Book: Minus 148°

1967, eight men attempted North America's highest summit: Mount McKinley (now known as Denali) had been climbed before but never in winter. Plagued by doubts and cold, group tension and a crevasse tragedy, the expedition tackled McKinley in minimal hours of daylight and fierce storms. They were trapped at three different camps above 14,000 feet during a six-day blizzard and faced the ultimate low temperature of 148° F.

Minus 148° is Art Davidson's stunning personal narrative, supplemented by diary excerpts from team members George Wichman, John Edwards, Dave Johnston, and Greg Blomberg. Davidson retells the team's fears and frictions and ultimate triumph with an honesty that has made this gripping survival story a mountaineering classic for over 40 years.

(Summary from Goodreads.com)

Cooper's Creek: Thoughts

Cooper’s Creek is the heart-wrenching account of the 1860s expedition to cross the interior of Australia from south to north. No one had ever survived this journey before, in fact, the colonies all around the coast of Australia didn’t even know what they would find in the interior of the continent. Many believed that there would be a large inland sea, while others believed there would be tremendous mountain ranges. Part of the purpose of the journey was exploration and discovery, as the author put it, “to go where no one else had ever been before.” Another reason for the expedition was the fact that the south of Australia was separated from Europe by 4 months journey, and if they were successfully able to cross the continent on foot, then it would be possible to connect the colonies with Europe by telegraph, reducing communication time to a matter of hours.

The leader of the expedition was a man named Robert O’Hara Burke, and his second in command was 26 year-old William John Wills. After months of preparation and traveling to get themselves into position to make a push across the interior, Burke and Wills set out on a mad dash to the Gulf of Carpentaria with two other companions, John King and Charley Gray. They left behind the bulk of their team and supplies at a depot on Cooper’s Creek, where they intended to return in three months time. Everything went well for a while, but then all good fortune failed them. I can’t think of another group of travelers that had worse luck.

Burke and company made it across the continent all right, but on their return journey to Cooper’s Creek, they ran out of food, and when they were just one day out from the depot, Charley Gray passed away. The team began the task of burying Gray, which in their exhausted state took them most of the day. That evening they arrived at the depot and Wills’ personal journal relates what they found.

“Sunday 21^st April 1861.—Arrived at the depot this evening, just in time to find it deserted. A note left in the plant by Brahe communicates the pleasing information that they had started today for the Darling [another river].”

The backup crew had been stationed at the depot with instructions to await the return of Burke’s team, but at the direction of their leader Brahe, they had abandoned the depot the very morning of the day when Burke returned. In their worn out condition, Burke, Wills and King could not even consider chasing after Brahe’s team. They left a note buried in the cache and slowly continued on down the Cooper, choosing to remain next to a source of water rather than follow after Brahe. The rest of their story is nothing short of tragic.

Burke’s team missed Brahe by about 9 hours. 15 days later Brahe returned to the depot to see if anyone had come, but failed to notice they had been there. About three weeks later, Burke’s team thinks they hear a gunshot, so Wills makes a mad dash back to the depot to see if anyone is there and he doesn’t realize that Brahe has been back. About three months later, Brahe returns with the rescue party and doesn’t detect that Burke’s team has been there since he last left. Brahe stayed only a few minutes and then continued on. The next day, the rescue party found King wandering through the desert like a mad man, Burke and Wills having died at the end of June.

I have to admit I struggled with this book. First of all, this is the first book that I’ve read from this list that was not written in the first person by someone who experienced the adventure, so it was harder for me to connect with the story. The constant back and forth of bad luck was also maddening at times. The author said it in this way,

“Even across a gap of a hundred years it is difficult not to feel indignant. This was too hard; surely they might have been allowed, if not success, at least a little respite: a shower of rain, a pigeon… making for a waterhole, just one faint whisper of hope instead of this endless implacable rejection. The narrow margin by which they had missed Brahe at the depot had been, in the main, bad luck, and Brahe’s failure on his return visit to realize that they had been there, though maddening, was a comprehensible twist of fate.”

In light of this terrible ending to their expedition, it is important to recognize that Burke, Wills and King were successful in achieving what they set out to achieve. The fact that they all died as a result of their journey (King died a year after being rescued, having never fully recovered) does not diminish the reality that they achieved something truly remarkable.

My rating: 6 out of 10

January's Book: Cooper's Creek

In 1860, an expedition set out from Melbourne, Australia, into the interior of the country, with the mission to find a route to the northern coast. Headed by Robert O'Hara Burke and William John Wills, the party of adventurers, scientists, and camels set out into the outback hoping to find enough water and to keep adequate food stores for their trek into the bush. Almost one year later, Burke, Wills, and two others from their party, Gray and King, reached the northern shore but on their journey back, they were stranded at Cooper's Creek where all but King perished. Cooper's Creek is a gripping, intense historical narrative about the harshness of the Australian outback and the people who were brave enough to go into the very depths of that uncharted country.

(Summary from the back of the book)

No Picnic on Mount Kenya: Thoughts

“No Picnic on Mount Kenya” was an exciting and unique take on a mountain climbing adventure. With the ultimate goal of climbing the 17,000 ft Mount Kenya (the second tallest mountain in Africa), Benuzzi and his companions first had to escape from the POW camp where they were held captive. What makes this story even more unique is that these men planned from the very beginning to return to their prison camp after their attempt on the mountain. They had many reasons for this, and I won’t list them here, but their chief motivation was to escape the monotony of camp life. They had no hopes of escaping and making it away safely, but since they had to wait in prison they wanted something to help them pass the time.

So they began preparing a mountain climbing expedition in complete secret while in the confines of a POW camp. They had to collect everything they could save by way of food and supplies over a period of eight months, while at the same time using scrap metal to manufacture much of their gear, including ice axes and crampons. These men endeavored to climb a world class peak using ropes that were intended to secure their bed sheets to their bunks. Now that’s what I call chutzpah!

After a clever escape from camp and a treacherous crossing of occupied territory, the group of travelers found themselves in the heart of an African jungle. This was big game territory with wild rhinos, elephants, lions, leopards, etc. and all they had to defend themselves were two ice axes they had converted from hammers. After several close calls with a rhino, a leopard, and an elephant, they finally reached the base of the mountain and were able to begin their ascent.

I won’t recount the whole story here… I just hoped to illustrate how awesome this book really is. It’s a prison break, a jungle safari, and a mountain climb all rolled into one. It was a lot of fun to read. That being said, one of the things that made this book meaningful to me was the way it captures the indomitable nature of man. Benuzzi and his companions were prisoners of war, stuck in what is arguably one of the most demoralizing of all human experiences. And yet, when they looked out the door of their bunk house each morning, they could see the summit of Mount Kenya towering above them in the clouds, and their spirits were drawn to it.

Benuzzi put it like this, “standing in the ranks at morning roll-call and seeing Batian [the peak of Mount Kenya] beckoning me with its shimmering glaciers, I sometimes felt like running away on the spot, to seek and to meet adventure halfway.”

One of the things I found most humorous about this story was the note that Benuzzi and his companions left when they escaped. They sent a letter to their camp commander letting him know that they were escaping, but that they would be back in fourteen days. I wonder what must have been going through the commander’s head when he read that note! After their adventure, the men snuck back in to camp and took a day to read their mail and get some food in their systems before turning themselves in to the commander. They were sentenced to twenty eight days in solitary confinement as punishment, but only served seven days of their sentence because the commander “appreciated [their] sporting effort.” Sounds to me like a small price to pay for such a life changing adventure!

My rating: 7 out of 10

December's Book: No Picnic on Mount Kenya

In 1943, Felice Benuzzi and two Italian compatriots escaped from a British POW camp in equatorial East Africa with only one goal in mind--to climb the dangerous seventeen-thousand-foot Mount Kenya. No Picnic on Mount Kenya is the classic tale of this most bizarre and thrilling adventure, a story that has earned its place as a unique masterpiece of daring and suspense.

(Summary from Goodreads.com)

Adrift: Thoughts

Steven Callahan’s survival story Adrift had me fully engrossed within the first ten minutes. I finished the entire book in two days because I could not put it down.

Callahan shares the story of his disastrous attempt at a solo crossing of the Atlantic. He sailed from the Canaries in January, 1982 on his ship Napoleon Solo. Seven days out, he was asleep in his cabin when the side of his ship suddenly burst open, spilling the sea into his little world. In a few desperate moments, he grabbed what he could and jumped into the life raft that would be his home for the next 76 days. Unable to move his small vessel against the current, Callahan drifted over 1,800 miles across the ocean. Battling storms, sharks, blistering thirst, debilitating hunger, and the constant strain of never being able to rest for more than a few hours at a time, it is miraculous that he was able to pull through.

One of the most captivating elements of Callahan’s narrative is his relationship with the school of fish that accompanied him on his journey. They arrived almost the very first day and nudged him through the floor of his raft nearly every hour of his crossing.  They provided him with life sustaining food, and more importantly, with companionship. They even left the sea on the same day as him, being captured by the very fishermen who rescued Callahan from his raft. He marveled frequently at how accommodating the fish were. As he grew weaker, they seemed to do their best to help him.

“Why, when I had trouble hunting, did the dorado come closer? Why did they make it increasingly easier for me as I and my weapon became more broken and weak, until in the end they lay on their sides right under my point? Why have they provided me just enough food to hang on for eighteen hundred nautical miles? I know that they are only fish, and I am only a man. We do what we must and only what Nature allows us to do in this life. Yet sometimes the fabric of life is woven into such a fantastic pattern. I needed a miracle and my fish gave it to me. That and more.”

There is no doubt that miraculous circumstances combined to bring Callahan home. He spent over two months literally straddling the line between life and death. Just when he seemed to have enough water, his spear would break and he would have no way of catching fish. Once his spear was repaired and he had food, his still would break and he would not be able to get water. Just after a rainstorm allowed him to collected 6 ounces of drinking water, his raft would blow a hole. After patching the hole, he would lie down and try to rest, only to be awoken by a shark pounding his body through the bottom of the raft and he would have to get up and defend himself. He seemed to have the entire ocean against him, yet through perseverance and ingenuity, he always managed to keep his head above water.

“For now, I can say that I am grateful for this experience and for the stream down which it continues to float me. I would not volunteer to go through it again, but the sea that tested me also proved forgiving enough to let me live, to show me how to live. For the first time in my life I felt truly humbled. It is just another irony with which my tale is filled—the heartfelt realization of one’s insignificance yields a calming sense of being completely connected to the greater whole. As a tiny part of the world and humanity, I now feel more at peace and much larger than I ever felt as a man alone.”

My rating: 9 out of 10

November's Book: Adrift

Before The Perfect Storm, before In the Heart of the Sea, Steven Callahan's Adrift chronicled one of the most astounding voyages of the century and one of the great sea adventures of all time. In some ways the model for the new wave of adventure books, Adrift is now an undeniable seafaring classic, a riveting firsthand account by the only man known to have survived for more than a month alone at sea, fighting for his life in an inflatable raft after his small sloop capsized only six days from port. Racked by hunger, buffeted by storms, scorched by the tropical sun, Callahan drifted for 1,800 miles, fighting off sharks with a makeshift spear and watching as nine ships passed him by. "A real human drama that delves deeply into man's survival instincts" (Library Journal), Adrift is a story of anguish and horror, of undying heroism, hope, and survival, and a must-read for any adventure lover.

(Summary from the back of the book)

Wind, Sand and Stars: Thoughts

In Wind, Sand and Stars Antoine De Saint-Exupery takes readers back to the days when pilots were still venturing into the unknown world between the earth and sky.

“A pilot’s business is with the wind, with the stars, with night, with sand, with sea. He strives to outwit the forces of nature. He stares in expectancy for the coming dawn the way a gardener awaits the coming of spring. He looks forward to port as to a promised land, and truth for him is what lives in the stars.”

One thing I enjoyed about this book was that the pilots and their planes were still very much at the mercy of nature. Their planes were small and not very powerful, unlike planes today. They could not just shoot through the sky, guided by computers and powered by twin jet engines. When there was a storm they had to fly through it, not over it. At one point the author describes an amazing storm that one of his friends had to fly through of the coast of South Africa, a storm where water tornadoes were shooting up out of the sea all around him.

“Great black waterspouts had reared themselves seemingly in the immobility of temple pillars. Swollen at their tops, they were supporting the squat and lowering each arch of the tempest, but through the rifts in the arch there fell slabs of light and the full moon sent her radiant beams between the pillars down upon the frozen tiles of the sea. Through these uninhabited ruins Mermoz made his way, gliding slantwise from one channel of light to the next, circling round those giant pillars in which there must have rumbled the upsurge of the sea, flying for four hours through these corridors of moonlight toward the exit from the temple.”

For me, the best part of this book is the chapter in which the author describes his survival experience in the Sahara desert. He and his copilot were stranded for over 3 days with less than a pint of water. After walking in the desert for 100 miles with nothing to drink, Antoine lays down in the sand and buries himself, expecting to die by morning. Throughout this experience he had seen numerous mirages and hallucinations and it tore at my heart every time he was filled with elation that he had been saved, only to realize that the images before him were only in his mind. Through amazing endurance and sheer luck the two men were saved, after coming within hours of literally shriveling up like raisins. The story is too good for me to summarize here. It’s chapter 8… you should read it.

Lastly, I enjoyed the author’s poetic view on life. He was very philosophical and often paused to reflect on the world around him. I loved the following passage, though it left me with a sense of sadness:

“Gazing at this transfigured desert I remember the games of my childhood—the dark and golden park we peopled with gods; the limitless kingdom we made of this square mile never thoroughly explored, never thoroughly charted. We created a secret civilization where footfalls had a meaning and things a savor known in no other world.”

            “And when we grow to be men and live under other laws, what remains of that park filled with the shadows of childhood, magical, freezing, burning? What do we learn when we return to it and stroll with a sort of despair along the outside of its little wall of gray stone, marveling that within a space so small we should have founded a kingdom that seemed to us infinite—what do we learn except that in this infinity we shall never again set foot, and that it is into the game and not the park that we have lost the power to enter?”

My rating: 6 out of 10

October's Book: Wind, Sand and Stars

Wind, Sand and Stars is unsurpassed in capturing the grandeur, danger, and isolation of flight. Its exciting account of air adventure - through the treacherous passes of the Pyrenees, above the Sahara, along the snowy ramparts of the Andes - combined with lyrical prose and the soaring spirit of a philosopher, make this  book one of the most popular works ever written about flying. 

(Summary from Goodreads.com)

K2, The Savage Mountain: Thoughts

K2, The Savage Mountain is a thrilling tale of the 1953 attempt by a team of Americans to be the first to reach the summit of the second highest mountain in the world. Along the way they endured terrible struggles, sickness, frostbite, starvation, storms, avalanches, and mental anxiety that would stretch any man to his limit. In fact, these challenges very nearly cost them their lives. Though they were not successful in their summit attempt, what they achieved under the most trying of circumstances is worthy of recognition. Upon returning to base camp, I don’t believe any of them felt that they had failed.

One thing this book taught me was the importance of establishing camps during a summit attempt. In the past I have often wondered, why place 7 or 8 camps all up the side of a mountain, making innumerable relay climbs and turning a summit attempt into a three week ordeal under the best of circumstances? Why not just take two guys, three days worth of food, and make a blitz for the top? The explanation given in this book is that the weather is so unpredictable when you reach such high altitudes that you may be stranded at one of your camps for two weeks before you have an opening of two days to reach the next camp, or the summit. These men were certainly lucky they had properly established their camps. They ended up being stranded in a storm for ten days at an altitude of 25,500 feet before they were forced to turn back, making a daring escape attempt while the storm still raged.

They were forced to abandon their attempt at the summit because one of their team, Art Gilkey, became incredibly sick, with blood clots in both lungs. Unable to walk, they were forced to carry him down the mountain wrapped up in a sleeping bag. At one point during the descent an avalanche fell down over the top of Gilkey and his climbing partner, who were held to the mountain by their ropes as the snow pounded over and around them. Not long after this event, the team suffered an accident that nearly killed them all. The men were tackling a particularly difficult section of the climb when one of them slipped and started falling, pulling his partner off of his feet. This pair was independently roped and would have fallen together off of the side of the mountain, but somehow they became tangled with another pair of climbers, pulling both of them off of their feet as well. These four men fell into a fifth climber, tangling him in their ropes and pulling him down the slope. Amazingly, this fifth climber was tied in to Gilkey, who, resting in his sleeping bag was being belayed by the seventh member of the climbing team from 60 feet up the mountain. This one man, Peter Schoening, held all six of his companions on the end of a single rope and stopped all of them from falling off  of “a slanting Empire State Building six times as high as the real one.” In the end the team made it safely down the mountain, with the exception of Art Gilkey, whose inexplicable disappearance undoubtedly saved all of their lives.

At many points during this book I had to stop and admire the strength and bravery of these men. They were attempting something that had never been done before, and they seemed to have all the cards stacked against them. Time after time they faced seemingly insurmountable obstacles, and they pulled together and made it through. That being said, at other times while reading this book I had to stop and ask myself the question, are these men crazy? This is absolutely insane what they are doing. Why would anyone leave the safety of their home and travel halfway around the world to climb a mountain that kills one man for every four who reach the summit? Why even try to climb these mountains at all? I love the answer that Houston and Bates give at the beginning of the book.

“In the year that has passed since our ordeal we have been asked that question many times and have answered it in many ways. No answer is complete or satisfactory. Perhaps there is no single answer; perhaps each climber must have his own reasons for such an effort. The answer cannot be simple; it is compounded of such elements as the great beauty of clear cold air, of colors beyond the ordinary, of the lure of unknown regions beyond the rim of experience. The pleasure of physical fitness, the pride of conquering a steep and difficult rock pitch, the thrill of danger—but danger controlled by skill—are also there. How can I phrase what seems to me the most important reason of all? It is the chance to be briefly free of the small concerns of our common lives, to strip off nonessentials, to come down to the core of life itself. Food, shelter, friends—these are the essentials, these plus faith and purpose and a deep and unrelenting determination. On great mountains all purpose is concentrated on the single job at hand, yet the summit is but a token of success, and the attempt is worthy in itself. It is for these reasons that we climb, and in climbing find something greater than accomplishment.”

My rating: 7 out of 10

September's Book: K2, The Savage Mountain

K2, the second highest peak in the world, is generally regarded as the most difficult and dangerous of all mountains. This is the dramatic story of the 1953 American expedition when a combination of terrible storms and illness stopped them short of the summit. Then on the descent, tragedy struck, and how they made it back to safety is renowned in the annals of climbing. K2, The Savage Mountain captures this sensational tale with an unmatched power that has earned this book its place as one of the classics of mountaineering literature. 

(Summary from the back of the book)