Books like The Hard Way Home — picked by fans

Before “Mardie” Murie became the guardian of America’s conservation conscience, she was a young bride traveling halfway across Alaska to marry a man she barely knew. Together Olaus and Mardie Murie lived a wilderness life always awed by the landscape and its wild inhabitants. Did things “change with children?” she was once asked. “No," Mardie smiled sweetly, “we just took them with us.”

This is the Muries’ story from those early years through their travels in the Arctic National Wildlife Area (ANWR) and support for the Wilderness Act. I first read this book long before I battled mosquitoes on the Koyukuk River, as they had on their honeymoon, and hiked up Double Mountain above their 1956 camp on the Sheenjak. Hosting Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas that summer, their joint efforts led to the creation of ANWR.

Wilderness guru Bob Marshall and I share at least one thing in common: despite several attempts, neither of us succeeded in climbing Mount Doonerak, the sentinel rising above the North Fork of the Koyukuk. I have traveled that country around the Gates of the Arctic multiple times, but I remain in awe of Marshall’s pioneering trips during the 1930s when the area was generally unknown and unmapped. 

Marshall’s account is part history, part adventure, and part human-interest story as he teamed up with interesting characters like Ernie Johnson after whom he named Ernie Creek. The two always managed to feast on Dall sheep. And it was Marshall who named the Gates of the Arctic. For those who can’t travel first-hand through what is still wilderness, Bob Marshall remains an enjoyable armchair guide.

Mountaineering is at the core of Alaska’s history. Many books—old and new—chronicle amazing exploits throughout the state; however, at all levels of audacity, tragedy, a bit of luck, and ultimate triumph, the first winter ascent of North America’s highest summit rises to the top of the heap. Art Davidson’s writing is as gripping as the story itself. 

In 1967, a summer ascent of what is called by its Athabascan name, Denali, was still considered unusual; any winter attempt was judged suicidal. Three team members reached the top only to have their lives hang in the balance on the descent. Originally, published soon after the climb, Minus 148˚ has remained in print for more than fifty years, a testament to its staying power, just like that of Art Davidson and his two companions.

Alaska’s politics have always been a blood sport, in part because participants are usually down-to-earth, no-nonsense Alaskans bound and determined to do what they think is right no matter the consequences—even if it costs them an election. 

A former Marine pilot with the famed “Black Sheep” squadron, Jay Hammond came north as a bush pilot and at statehood in 1959 was elected to the Alaska House of Representatives. His self-deprecating accounts of the political battles of the next quarter of a century, including the Permanent Fund, are sure to bring more than a chuckle. I once looked out an aircraft window to see a small plane upside down on a dirt runway at Hamond’s homestead some miles from Port Alsworth. Inquiring, I was told, “Oh, don't worry, Jay’s fine; he just bounced on a bad landing.”

I grew up way out in the country. We had to drive 9 miles before we got to something called “a paved road.” So I spent my childhood roaming the woods fishing, hunting and camping. Then someone gave me A Fine and Pleasant Misery.

This book combined my two favorite things-laughing and the great outdoors. This book is a collection of funny stories about Pat as he takes us all back to nature with a hilarious look through a kid’s eyes who had never seen a video game but did run into some strange creatures. (Spoiler alert: giant mosquitos)

If my book brings the perspective of a new hunter and old conservationist, then Meat Eater is the perspective of the old hunter and new conservationist.

The entertaining memoir begins with Rinella’s earliest hunting memories so the reader can follow how hunting informed his connection to land and animals over time and how that made him the activist conservationist he is today.

A great book for the non-hunter to glean some perspective from someone who was born into hunting culture.   

This book is a favourite of mine to read aloud to young children.

The writing is musical with a predictable rhythm that young children enjoy. The story has a repetitive chorus that children instinctively chant along to. As children repeat the chorus, they feel like they are reading, which gives them a sense of achievement.

The story is full of fun onomatopoeia words that children love saying, such as swishing, squelchy, and stomping. This language also allows children to act out the words using their whole bodies, which adds to the reading experience.

The story is full of anticipation and just the right amount of suspense for this age group. This book will keep children engaged from beginning to end.

Where do I even start with this book? It has such a strong opening and hooked me immediately from the first page. We follow the story of Guillot, a once noble knight of the Silver Circle, now a lazy man who drinks his days away. He is summoned by the king to slay the last living dragon in the realm. What strikes me about this book is that you feel sympathy for the dragon, Alpheratz, as he wakes up to find out he is the last one left. With exciting magic, tense fights, and one powerful dragon, this is a book I cannot stop recommending!

This was my father’s favourite book, and the teenage me agreed. It’s the greatest prolonged chase story ever written. An English tourist takes a pot shot at Hitler and is hunted all the way to the West Country in England, where he digs himself into the bank of an unused country lane, cornered like a fox. I lived in Devon at the time, and knew those huge high banks along the sides of ancient tree-covered lanes, and I and the village kids built ourselves exactly the same sort of hideaway, dug into a bank in the woods and invisible from above.

I love the academic rigor, clear writing, and balanced approach to one of the most controversial topics in wildlife conservation. I have written about hunting in relation to elephants, lions, and rhinos and found this book to be comprehensive in its coverage of the issue and its wider linkages.

Does hunting have a value–if so, what is the value, and to whom does it accrue? Do utilitarian arguments around the idea of the greatest good for the greatest number work to justify the sport/trophy hunting of animals? Can the shooting of a rhino, elephant, lion, buffalo, etc, be ethical if it contributes to conserving habitat and a wide range of species? These are all topics I have wrestled with and continue to think deeply about as I write about wildlife conservation.