The Stack | Winter '19/Spring '20
It has come to my attention that I wrote a Winter ‘19 Stack post, but never actually hit publish on it, which is a major key to actually writing things, so. Y’all are going to get a double-decker Stack this time.
It actually works out pretty well, honestly, considering how little I read this winter. I did this fun thing for a while where I tried to work two full-time jobs instead of one, and it went about as well as you can imagine. So between that and having a lot of extra reading time available this spring (pandemic, anyone?), my lists are more than a little skewed. Both have good titles on them, though; and a couple that I really think will be lifelong-type of favorites. Ones that I will try to force everyone I love to read, including you. Ready? Here we go:
WINTER
Am I There Yet?, Mari Andrew. Pretty sure I whipped through this one in a day, but I wondered what took me so long to get around to it. Sometimes I think books sit on our shelves until just the right time, and this felt like one of those. Just a hug and a reminder that adulthood is weird for everyone and that I am not behind schedule. (Fun fact: My mom ordered me this book a while back for absolutely no reason — she just saw it and thought it looked like something I might love and need. It showed up on my doorstep and you know what? She was right.)
Essentialism, Greg McKeown. This book has been regaled by all kinds of people that I respect, and it lived up to the hype. Practical advice on choosing what (and, just as importantly, what not) to fill your time with. I’m still learning so much on this front, but it was a helpful guide as I seek to do better. I’d recommend this one to anybody.
Notes From a Blue Bike, Tsh Oxenreider. Honestly? This felt like the more essay-driven, lyrical version of Essentialism in a lot of ways. Not intentional, but I loved reading these two back-to-back. And I would love to be Tsh’s real life friend I think.
Tracks, Robyn Davidson. Here’s the deal: This book checked all the obvious boxes for me. Nonfiction memoir written by a woman about an incredible outdoor journey/experience? I will always buy that book. You know I will. Y’all. Already. Know. However, I just… didn’t like it very much. This feels a little blasphemous, given its place in the Adventure Classics Canon; but it read a little flowery for my tastes, and a little elitist. (It’s just written in a very non-empathetic way. I’m not sure how to explain it, and I’m sure that wasn’t the intention, but was definitely the feeling it gave me!) Don’t let me deter you, though. If camels are your thing, you may love it.
SPRING
One Long River of Song, Brian Doyle. I could have just stopped at this book and reread it over and over and been perfectly happy, I think. Almost every essay made me cry — not in sadness, but just from sheer beauty and a sort of emotional understanding that I’m not sure I can explain. At my best, it’s how I see the world. This book articulated feelings I have never been able to, and I left it feeling sort of grateful for its existence. I wish I had known Brian Doyle.
Alone on the Wall, Alex Honnold. This was interesting, but weird. Like him, from everything I’ve heard. (Insert shrug emoji here.)
The Stories Behind the Images, Corey Rich. One of my favorite adventure photographers, Corey Rich decided to release a coffee-table-size book with some of his most iconic images and an essay telling (as you might have guessed from the title) the story behind each. It’s like he made a book especially for my little storyteller heart — reminds me to keep my camera out and jot down the details surrounding the photos I take!
The Sun is a Compass, Caroline Van Hemert. Quietly beautiful memoir that I immediately passed on to friends (and recommended to a lot of others). Besides the amazing feat the author and her husband accomplished by completing the expedition this book is about; I loved the gentleness with which she described the whole thing, the way she wove her point of view as a scientist in seamlessly, and the raw honesty with which she shared her internal journey alongside the external. I want to hang out with her.
Decisive, Chip and Dan Heath. Super-practical guide to broadening and bettering your decision-making process. This is one of my dad’s all-time favorite books, and I hadn’t taken the time to read it for myself. Can’t recommend it enough — you can apply their advice to just about any aspect of life.
Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry. Is it too dramatic for me to say this book was the turning point for me in quarantine? Disguised as a simple story about ordinary people in an ordinary town, Wendell Berry weaves nostalgia, wisdom, and a heart for beauty into his character and setting (which begins to feel like a character in its own right). Convinced this is the proper antidote to pandemic anxiety.
New Collected Poems, Wendell Berry. You’re very lucky the rest of this list isn’t just Wendell Berry.
The Hard Truth, Kris Hampton. A climbing book, but not just a climbing book. The founder of Power Company Climbing, Kris’s recently released essay collection offers advice that I'm already carrying into my training and keeping in mind at the gym and the crag. But it does so by packing a serious tough-love punch on topics like effort, work ethic, leadership, creativity, and setting and achieving goals. So yeah, he’s talking about climbing. But also, he’s kind of just talking about life. (Bonus! The illustrations are by Brendan Leonard, who you may have noticed by this point I am an embarrassingly large fan of.)
Minus 148 Degrees, Art Davidson. A mega-classic tale of mountaineering that will ensure you never want to try mountaineering. Quick/easy read!
As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Eugene Peterson. I’ll be honest, I’m still working through this book, but I already know it will be one I return to again and again, just like all Eugene Peterson books are. Outside of people I know personally, this man has been possibly the greatest influence on my personal faith I can think of. A friend recommended this particular sermon collection of his not long ago, and the margins are already full of notes and full paragraphs are underlined. It’s beautiful, challenging, and so, so good.
