How to Adventure Without Leaving the Couch

Hint: It’s Books

Stories of survival fill me with shivery delight. I rarely meet a story of man/woman vs. elements that won’t keep me up until all hours. Heartpounding adventure stories are, no doubt, one of my favorite sub-genres.

And yes, I am the most fearful of creatures. I’ve never skied, but I will explode with glee when I read a story about someone climbing down a mountain, on their nose, in the dark, an icy mountain, in shreds of clothes, to reach base camp. Is this some Bizarro world cousin of writing what you know? Read what terrifies you?

Below are some of my hall-of-fame armchair adventures, an evergreen selection.

I practically leaped into my car to buy Ruthless River at Brookline Booksmith after reading that it had been released. I’d met the author, Holly Fitzgerald, before the book launch and heard her tale of this ultimate survival story: a wild ride–the wildest–down a South American river in the thick of the Amazon Basin, a true and thrilling adventure of a young married couple who survive a plane crash only to later raft hundreds of miles across Peru and Bolivia, ending up in a channel to nowhere, a dead end so flooded there is literally no land to stand on. Their raft–a mere four logs–separates them from the piranha-and-caiman-infested water until they finally realize that there is no way out but to swim, had me at hello.

To say this book gripped me is a massive degree of understatement.

When browsing bookstores, my rule is to look for a book where I’m familiar with neither the title nor the author. That’s how I found The Stranger in The Woods by Michael Finkel (while browsing in the super browsable Belmont Bookstore.) The story: In 1986, a shy and intelligent twenty-year-old named Christopher Knight left his home in Massachusetts, drove to Maine, and disappeared into the forest. He would not have a conversation with another human being until nearly three decades later when he was arrested for stealing food.

Living in a tent even through brutal winters, he had survived by his wits and courage, developing ingenious ways to store edibles and water and to avoid freezing to death. He broke into nearby cottages for food, clothing, reading material, and other provisions, taking only what he needed but terrifying a community never able to solve the mysterious burglaries. Based on extensive interviews with Knight himself, this is a vividly detailed account of his secluded life–why did he leave? what did he learn? –as well as the challenges he has faced since returning to the world. 

I found this book a mesmerizing story of survival that opened me up to the amazing ways folks can find their way to live their lives—differences I can accept despite being baffled.

I read Shooting the Boh: A Woman’s Journey Down the Wildest River in Borneo by Tracy Johnston decades ago and have urged folks to read it ever since.

 Publishers Weekly reviewed it thusly: This story of a journalist joining an expedition down the Boh River starts out as standard adventure travel fare, but the difference rapidly becomes apparent: this journalist is over 40, her luggage is lost on the flight over and cannot be recovered in time, and the expedition has been planned by a company that takes irresponsibility to a new level. Only when they are already on the river do the participants realize how difficult and dangerous their time together will be. All of them must deal with “insect stress” caused by bees that feast on human sweat, foot fungus, raging rapids, and perhaps an evil river spirit. On top of that, Johnston begins to have menopausal hot flashes and questions whether it is time to give up the thrill of risky journeys. Her descriptions of both natural phenomena and local customs are lyrical: she compares salespeople in an outdoor market to “baby birds, mouths open, arms aflutter.” In writing about the seemingly cursed journey, Johnston keeps her chin up and sticks to what she calls “the adventure code of travel: go with the unexpected and make do with what you get.”

Just writing about this book, I visited my bookshelves to reread Shooting the Boh. 

These books live inside me. They are magnificent stories of those who go so far beyond the ordinary that they lift me into worlds where I will never be, yet because of these authors, I feel as though I’ve visited them.

I love books.

I love books.

I love books.