Into the Wild

The story of Chris McCandless is a combination as fascinating, tragic and arresting as you can most likely get. A young man, who has excelled in the ways of the world as we know it, intellectually, athletically, socially, chooses to renounce it for a world of his own adventure. After donating the $24,000 of his savings to charity, and burning the remainder of his cash, Chris disappeared from his former life and family in the Summer of 1990 and became Alexander Supertramp.

For almost two years he lived the spontaneous and carefree lifestyle which is the stuff of Huckleberry Finn and Jack Kerouac. Hitchhiking, wandering, encountering personalities and exploring landscapes only those unrestrained, unconnected and fearless often experience. This prelude reads something like an extreme gap year, most of which has been pieced together by journalist and author Jon Krakauer in his book Into The Wild through interviews, postcards and his journal.

The ultimate destination for Chris was to the wilderness of Alaska, a place he had pinpointed for some time as the consummation of complete solitude, escape from the throws of society and embracing nature. In April 1992, he walked into the wild. Four months later Chris McCandless’ body was found, the most likely cause of death being starvation. An SOS note nearby detailed that he was weak, ill and alone, and pleaded for someone to help. He was 24 years old.

The press interest was immense, and the public opinion divided. To date it is still a case which provokes strong reactions. Was it folly or inspired to willingly enter into such escapism? To be denounced or admired?

There is something about the ascetic life, the ‘call of the wild’ that is both romanticised and alluring to many, myself included. The need to ‘get away’, and in doing so, discovering some missing piece or yourself or life’s mysterious puzzle; those age-old words of Jesus’ that you must lose yourself in order to find it; the attraction heightens some idea that our conditioned environment will not offer any meaningful answers, that we must escape it to find any kind of truth.

I tried something like it on my travels, the escapism, spontaneity, complete independence. But alone? I was never really alone. Not necessarily because I was usually surrounded by people in the same vicinity, or that I met and parted with company along the way, but because ‘family’ was with me. Whether it is the family we have been given, or the family we have chosen, they are, whether we like it or not, what has made us and shaped us into who we are.

“It’s the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.” – Crash, 2004

One of the most remarkable things life has to offer is human encounter; that we can connect, affect one another. It is also the most complex, involving misunderstanding, aggression, division. To live a completely ascetic life seems to me to be avoiding the best and worst of humanity. I know that the voice that surprised me the most in effecting my return was one that said “you’ve had your time now, you best get home.”

Despite Chris McCandless’ efforts to divorce himself from his family ties, he built up new relations with the travellers he met, and left a lasting impression on a huge number of them. If it wasn’t for these connections we would know very little of his journey or his character, and it is these people who will continue to tell his story.

One wonders what wisdom McCandless may have reached should he not have fallen into such a tragic fate. He seemed to want to seek out the essence of life itself beyond all our modern day contraptions and distractions, and rather then writing him off as a foolish and naive intellectual, there must be something we can take from his revolutionary spirit…?

I will leave you with an excerpt to ponder from a letter Chris wrote to one of his friends not long before he entered Alaska…

Rx

“So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security; conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one a peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun…”

– ‘Alex’ McCandless, letter dated April 1992