100 books like The Twenty

I loved this book because I could relate to the tough, emotional place the author was in when she made this epic journey. Her rucksack was extremely heavy. It felt like it represented the burden she was carrying at the time. I loved the unfolding of both her physical and emotional journey, how much she learned about herself, and how much she was eventually able to let go of to enable her to move forward.

Reading this book motivated me to go on a similar journey, hiking many of the Camino Pilgrimage routes. This was a book I thought about long after I had finished reading it. It had the kind of truth about it that stays with you. 

I loved this book because it is a very engaging true story, one that I have huge admiration for. To literally just walk the South-West Coast Path when you have been made homeless and one partner has been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. I found their story inspiring. When they walked, they had nothing, but by the time they finished, in many ways, they had everything. 

I was amazed at how brilliantly observant the author was in her descriptions of nature, the scenery, people, and even the weather. This book certainly inspired me to walk sections of the South-West Coast Path, and when I did, I often thought about Raynor and Moth and wondered how they managed it. I loved how their love for each other kept them moving forward together and enabled them to deal with considerable hardship. It’s a great book.  

As a kid growing up in Alaska, I daydreamed of venturing into the wilderness alone. I was hooked on the promise of adventure.

This book follows that dream as the author and her partner set off on an astonishing quest to traverse Alaska in homemade boats. Thoughtful, funny, and magical, it’s a tale of true love as well as near-death escapes.

Wanderers is not a memoir. Andrews, who is a professor of literature in the UK, presents ten chapters on ten famous women writers who also walked.

I found it interesting to learn how some of the women left town before dawn to walk so that they would not be seen. Society at that time felt it was not safe for a woman to walk by herself. I was amazed at some of the distances that they walked; for example, in the early 1800s Ellen Weeton walked 35 miles in a day. 

I found the interconnection of walking to help writing and writing about walking fascinating. I will return to read this again and again. 

This book minces no words about the difficulties of hiking the Appalachian Trail. Bryson does a brilliant job laying out the reality that despite extensive planning and, in the case of his hiking partner, Steven Katz, differing motives, things can go wrong.

Bryson does an amazing job keeping the story light with side-splitting humor. The blend of humor and adventure play roles as some of the primary inspirations behind my own writing.

This book broadened my understanding of what it means for the outdoors to be a place where everyone feels they are welcome and belong. I felt Whitely’s discomfort and shame at being a tall, overweight woman among slender, fit climbers on Mt. Kilimanjaro.

I celebrated how she transformed shame into motivation. I could also feel the effort of lifting heavy legs at altitude. I appreciated her attention to the world around her, the guides, the camp staff, and the local language. She gave me a picture of the landscape, people, and sound of the place. 

As someone who has hiked a few sections of the Pacific Crest Trail, I found this memoir of the author’s experiences while through-hiking the PCT to be visually stunning and delightful.

He managed to describe his daily progress with enough variety that I never grew tired of his quest. This story has inspired me to return to the trail for another section or two!

A friend gave me a copy of this book when my kids were small, and it was my first indication that there is life after kids, my first glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Over the course of the book and several years of their lives, Ross, her husband, and their two kids hiked the Continental Divide Trail, beginning with the Colorado Trail portion when the kids were one and three years old.

Reading this book planted the first seed in my mind that, one day, my husband and I would revisit the Colorado Trail, which we’d hiked five years before our first son was born, with our three kids in tow. It took us until they were 11 and 15, but we did it!

This book really made me laugh!

I loved the characters of the moose, the bear, and the beaver, who go together on a trip full of challenges. At first, they decide to do a race all the way to the top of the mountain, but they get into trouble in a series of funny mishaps. Luckily they are good friends and manage to save each other.

This book reminded me of my family trips as a child, when my dad always enjoyed going fast, while my mom enjoyed stopping to photograph a flower or spot a butterfly. And I–sometimes hurried with my father and sometimes slowed down with my mother. This book shows these two ways to enjoy a trip, but eventually, it proves that the best way is to enjoy the hike together, with good friends or family.

Angie Abdou tells a hiking story with a different bend. She decides to spend a summer using hiking to bond with her tween daughter, who isn't thrilled about the idea. Throughout the season, they come to realize what they value in their mother-daughter relationship and that some things just can't be forced. Abdou takes on social media culture and what it is to be under the microscope as a perfectly flawed human being and parent.