My daughter called me from Europe last week to tell me that she’d seen Into the Wild. We talked about the local (Alaskan) reaction to the film, which was interesting to her since none of those issues are brought out in the movie. As it happens, I watched the film later that day, and I’m thinking now about how it plays here in Alaska.

Chris McCandless’ story was much like mine - up to the part where he walked off into the country to starve to death. For about 5 years during my early 20s, I drifted. I was a fruit tramp, hitching rides and harvesting crops in Washington and Arizona. I hung out in Mexico for months on end, spent a winter in an abandoned log barn in the mountains of N. Idaho (near friends) cutting wood with a bow saw to keep warm and busy. I left in April after living for 5 months on corn, beans, rice, tomatoes, flour, oats, apples, and some beavers and rabbits.

A year and a half and several “projects” later I headed to Alaska with a half-baked plan to live there on my own terms. I took classes at the university for a teaching credential because I had a kid by then and I needed a way to provide for her. I also wanted wilderness survival skills, so I joined a climbing club and learned about glacier travel, climbing snow and ice, and avalanche danger. I fell into a crevasse right after discussing with my partner whether we needed to rope up on the Castner Glacier. I hiked alone in summer and crossed a few scary rivers. But so what?

As Alaskan stories go, mine are unremarkable, maybe even typical for anyone who wanders off the beaten path. Here, we find ourselves in primitive conditions just a few minutes from most any road. We recognize the difference between rustic and remote locations, and that’s why we have trouble with Krakauer’s version of Chris McCandless’ tragic Alaska sojourn.

McCandless supposedly trained for his Alaskan odyssey, running and climbing. He pushed his limits and learned to travel light. Why, then, did he ignore the most basic and portable survival aid - knowledge? With mentors to show him the ropes, he’d have had more options when his plans started to unravel. He didn’t even have a map.

Into the Wild is interesting for what it doesn’t say about the end of Chris McCandless’s trail. McCandless is the romantic hero of the movie, rejecting social conventions and making his own path. Never mentioned in the film, though, is that the path to the old bus where he spent his summer was a mere two day walk from a major highway, along a well established mining trail. There was an old tram he could have used to cross the Teklanika River just a mile downstream from where he unsuccessfully tried to cross on his attempt to get back to the highway. Why didn’t he look for a wider, and shallower, spot to cross?

To people who understand where he was, he seems like a fugitive from the narrow confines of common sense. We wonder if he was merely a fool. Or was he insane? And why is his story being mythologized now? Krakaur’s theory that McCandless died of food poisoning is crucial for maintaining his thesis that his hero was the tragic victim of bad luck. But his theory has not withstood empirical validation.

Since the movie, there has been a great deal of public discussion about what (if anything) should be done with the bus. The general concern is that movie crazed starry eyed romantics will come similarly unprepared and require rescue or assistance. Or maybe they’ll just annoy everyone with vacuous epiphanies. For now, the derelict bus remains where it’s been for the past several decades, awaiting further discovery and celebration.

Stories are told and retold for a reason. Their meanings are shaped and nurtured by the people who tell and hear them. I’m curious what purpose this one serves. Sherry Simpson wrote:

We can’t afford to take his story seriously because it doesn’t say much a careful person doesn’t already know about desire and survival. The lessons are so obvious as to be laughable: Look at a map. Take some food. Know where you are. Listen to people who are smarter than you. Be humble. Go on out there — but it won’t mean much unless you come back.

To realize any far-fetched goal it takes an ability to sort through the objective difficulties and the subjective dangers that come from an excess of attitude. It also takes some luck. And to the degree that you stay humble and listen to other people, you make your own luck. Chris McCandless has my respect for pushing his limits to reach his ideals. He may have been shortsighted and foolish, but who among us hasn’t been guilty of that? He wasn’t skilled or lucky enough to anonymously retreat from his peak moment. Krakauer, however, doesn’t tell that story. And in Alaska the question remains, Why?

Into the Wild sources: