The richly textured use of words drew me in, while the occassional terror of life on a wind swept island gripped me. The author is very honest, yet inspiring with her insights.

My wife was chiding me to finish, so that she could pick it up. She couldn't wait. For a few days there have been two bookmarks tracing their way through this rich and intimate memoir of life in a world very different from my own.

The author provides an engaging and captivating description of this courageous undertaking in a journal format. This format serves the book and pace of the adventure well. The poetic language used to describe characters, places and events is excellent and conjures memories that parallel my own experiences along the British Columbia coast. The author has done an excellent job of capturing the flow, feeling and character of this region. This is not a Fodor's on kayaking the Inside Passage but rather an adventure of the soul and mind, at water level, along one of the most rustic, beautiful and inhospitable coastlines in America.

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I was spellbound the whole way. In January 1998 the fishing vessel,La Conte sank,leaving its crew struggling in 100 mph winds and 90-foot seas. Spike Walker took me there emotionaly and made me see and feel the heroic Coast Guard rescue of the ship's crew. I can still visualize the helicopter below the tops of the gigantic waves. Spike Walker doesn't tell the story, he takes you there and places you in the middle of the ocean fighting the gigantic waves and freezing water. You can see and feel every emotion.It's hard not to get goose bumps. After reading this book I have a completely different view of the Coast Guard. I can't imagine anything harder to do than to patrol Alaskan Waters, determined to rescue anyone in danger, no matter what the odds. My hat is off to Spike Walker:

So plans Jonathan Raban, when he begins fitting out his small boat, well-stocked with both supplies and literary works, for a trip up the inner passage from Seattle to Juneau. Raban soon gets on his way to Alaska, the last frontier of North America.

The exploration that Raban undertakes on this voyage occurs both in the outer environment and inside himself. He explores, and describes in lush detail, the spectacular and stunning scenery of the coast. To Raban, these outposts of America and British Columbia represent the best of the sublime - a romantic concept which reveres the fantastic and unexplored in nature. Raban docks at many undiscovered ports, and shares these journeys with the reader. In addition to his travel, however, Raban learns a great deal about himself, particularly about his dual roles as son and father, in the course of the journey. Also woven into the text is a good deal of material about earlier inhabitants of the Inner Passage; both Native Americans and early European explorers of the coastline.

This is a beautiful book about the landscape, the sea, and its meaning to one individual. It is beautifully written and will not easily be forgotten.

Krakauer tells the tale effectively. He uses an intelligent vocabulary balanced with a conversational writing style. He easily held my attention as the facts unfolded throughout, employing logic and drawing inferences to fill in many questions that remain. He obviously did his research on the central character, Christopher McCandless, and must have invested countless quantities of money and time to gather accurate information. With so many of the facts of this distressing story remaining obscured probably forever, his assumptions and extrapolations about Chris' actual fate are posed as theories rather than as irreproachable conclusions. I appreciate this aspect of Krakauer's account.

Hats off also to the McCandless family, since Krakauer relied upon them not only for information about their son, tragically lost, but also for their courage in allowing many private family issues to be exposed in support of telling the story as thoroughly as possible. Chris' father, mother, and sister are true heroes in my eyes.

I have some degree of understanding of Chris and his northerly wanderlust, and also an appreciation for the not-so-uncommon desire to conquer the wilderness. What concerns me, however, is the apparent arrogance of the central character. According to the author's account, Chris seemed to possess an intermittent wariness about his closest acquaintances, along with outright rejection of others who cared for him much more than he cared for them. He treated some important people who crossed his path as disposable. But probably Chris's most crucial deficiency was the flippant and over-confident approach towards the actual work of survival in the wilderness. He even seemed a bit contemptuous toward relevant learning despite his quality education and intelligence. He especially needed important knowlege about survival in the wilds of the north. However, he apparently rebuffed all attempts from others to assist him in his quest. I have spent considerable time in the extreme north of B.C. (an area not entirely dissimilar to Alaska): it is ridiculous, misguided, and presumptuous to embark on such an adventure with the dearth of equipment, supplies, and knowledge as did Chris. I would want to know everything possible about how to survive such a life and death endeavor. Indeed, I feel a strange combination of sadness and anger as I reflect on Chris's unfortunate departure. Was his death ultimately caused by youthful innocence or arrogant ignorance? It is a question I cannot answer and I commend Krakauer for his deft ability to stimulate thought in the reader rather than provide tidy little assumptive answers.

My only complaint: the personal reflective chapter towards the end of the book. I understand why Krakauer included it (personal connections with the need for adventure, context, struggles with nature, etc.), but for me it was irrelevant and it de-railed the flow of the story.

Perhaps we can learn from Christopher McCandless' experience, not in any attempt to qualify him as a martyr or to label him a fool. I have thought about how my appreciation for the north has changed, how families need to be close, the requirement to really listen to and understand people, and countless other themes which have been tweaked by Jon Krakauer's writing about Chris' misadventure. I recommend this book highly.

Jack London centers his story on a dog by the name of Buck. Buck is a big, strong dog, his father being a St. Bernard and his mother being a Scottish shepherd dog. At one hundred and forty pounds, Buck was no mere house pet. Kept physically strong with a love of rigorous swimming and constant outdoor exercise, Buck was a lean, formidable dog. Undoubtedly, his great condition was part of the reason that the gardener's helper dog-napped and sold him to dog traders, who in turn sold him to Canadian government mail couriers. The gold rush in Alaska had created a huge demand for good dogs, which eventually led to the "disappearances" of many dogs on the West Coast. Buck was no exception. He was sold into a hostile environment, which was unforgiving and harsh. Although civilization domesticated him from birth, Buck soon begins almost involuntarily to rediscover himself, revealing a "primordial urge", a natural instinct, which London refers to as the Call of the Wild.

This book is set in the Klondike, a region in Alaska that was literally stormed by thousands of men looking to get rich quick via the gold rush. Transportation was increasingly important, but horses were near useless in winter, prone to slip and fall on snow and ice. Dogs were by far the best means of transportation in Alaska at the time, somewhere near the end of the 19th century. As the demand for dogs grew, the prices for good dogs skyrocketed. This price hike inevitably created a black-market- style selling of dogs, and the gardener's helper Manuel did what many men did; they sold the dogs for a good price.

A recurring theme in London's novel is the clash between natural instinct and domesticated obedience. Soon after the dog traders captured Buck, a man broke him with a club. Buck is thoroughly humiliated, but learned an all-important truth of the wild: The law of club and fang. Kill or be killed. Survival is above all. Buck resolved to himself to give way to men with clubs. In the beginning, Buck had problems with this new restriction, but learned that when his masters' hands hold whips or clubs, he must concede. However, that did not keep Buck from doing little deeds like stealing a chunk of bacon behind his masters' backs. However, as London says, "He did not steal for joy of it, but because of the clamor of his stomach . In short, the things he did were done because it was easier to do them than not to do them." In this way Buck learns the way of the wild but also acknowledges his inferiority to men with clubs or whips. Eventually in this novel, Buck throws away his old life completely and replaces it with his natural urge, the primordial version of himself, the Call of the Wild.

Another underlying theme is the relationship between dog and master. In the beginning, Buck is acquainted with the Judge with a dignified friendship, his sons with hunting partnership, his grandsons with protective guardianship, the mail couriers Francois and Perrault with a mutual respect. Against the man with a club he despised but gave respect. However, when Buck met John Thornton, he loved his master for the first time ever. There wasn't anything Buck wouldn't do for his master. Twice Buck saved Thornton's life, and pulled a thousand pounds of weight for Thornton's sake. Even after Buck routinely left his master's camp to flirt with nature, Buck always came back to appreciate his kind master. However, even after Thornton was gone and Buck had released all memories of his former life, Buck never forgot the kind hands of his master, even after answering the Call of the Wild.

Jack London truly brings Buck to life. Using a limited 3rd person view, the reader is told of Buck's thoughts and actions. Obviously, London gave several ideal human qualities to Buck, including a sharp wit, rational reasoning, quick thinking, and grounded common sense. However, he does not over-exaggerate the humanity in Buck, which would have given an almost cartoon-like feeling for a reader. Rather, being a good observer, London saw how dogs acted and worked backwards, trying to infer what the dogs think. The result is a masterful blend of human qualities and animal instinct that is entirely believable. It is obvious that Buck's experience was similar to many other dogs' experiences.

With Deadfall, it felt as if Henry was struggling to find a plot and/or meet a deadline. The first half of the book was very ponderously plotted. The pace picks up in the second half. The good news is that it's really hard to guess who the stalker is. (One thing I like about this series is that the "bad guy" is often the last person you'd suspect.) The bad news is that the logic behind the stalker is pretty far fetched -- and if you missed the clue in the early pages, it isn't repeated as they unwind the story at the end.

I'm also enough of a romantic that I'm growing a little impatient with Jesse's ambivalence about making a commitment with Alex. Jesse's "I'm an independent woman" attitude just doesn't quite work for me -- particularly when she's just relied on a group of men to help her. He's a good guy Jesse -- wake up!

Finally, I listened to the unabridged audiotape of the this book which may have lessened my enjoyment of this tale. The narrator (Peiffer) speaks with only a little more emotion than a monotone. Dialogue, in particular, comes across in a painfully stilted voice. This may be a better series to read in printed text.

The book does something of a "time jump" in which every other chapter is devoted to charachters in seperate places, and are also seperated by a day. I think this was a clumsy, and somewhat confusing way to let readers in on some facts.

Like other readers, I found the motive too far fetched to involve the people it did. Why didn't the perp just go directly to the problem he had?? I would say more but I don't want to give it away. Jessie took some actions which I keept thinking "No! Don't do that!" at her in the final conflict. Also, Jessie's conflict of independance vs. commitment to Alex, was, I felt, an afterthought to the story which soured an otherwise good ending.