62 Books Like The Rugged Road

I live in a small space with little room for books I don’t want to re-read. This one stays! Paddy chose his travel bike, a 2002 Aprilia Pegaso 650ie, because it was cheap. His ‘mend and make do’ approach was put to good use on this journey in the Americas, time-defined by how long the money lasted. I delighted in his eye for the puzzling and ridiculous, and how he depicts the essence of the people and places he sees. Spotting a fellow non-planner, I was hooked when I read, “…the plans of man are but thoughts and ideas easily revoked should anything more interesting crop up in the meantime.” So did this Irishman successfully complete his quest? Where is Puerto Faraglioni anyway?

Any book that starts with an impulsive decision is bound to engage someone like me who doesn’t like to plan much before a journey. With his Australian visa shortly to expire and his relationship going the same way, Nathan, aged twenty-nine doesn’t do the sensible thing and fly back home to the UK. Instead, he buys a potentially unsuitable decommissioned postal delivery 105cc Honda "Postie" motorbike. He names it Dorothy and starts the homeward journey from Sydney to London. I found his story riveting as, like me, he finds delight in the simpleness of life on the road and in meeting local people and other travellers.

I bet he’s glad he didn’t get that flight home!

What I like about this book is that Peggy writes as if riding a 125cc BSA Bantam through Canada, North America, and Mexico with an Airedale dog as pillion is quite the normal thing to do! In 1951, she left Liverpool for Nova Scotia. Arriving with only $60, she took various jobs to fund the two years she spent on the trip. I identified with this as I worked as a nurse in New Zealand during my own motorcycle travels. Her matter-of-fact attitude is smile-worthy, as she describes her wonderful experiences. “Oppy” the BSA proves perfect for the job. Matelot, the dog who travels on a metal box behind her, adjusts to his life on the road with similar alacrity.

Some motorcycle travel books say little about the motorbike itself but I like the nuts and bolts in a story of this genre. This book is very much about the bike. Steve’s Ariel was fifty-five years old and he was sixty-six when he embarked on his trip from Capetown to South Luangwa. I identified with Steve; neither of us had any modern gadgetry nor much in the way of mechanical expertise, therefore we both discovered new levels of patience and were blessed with experiencing people’s generosity in a different culture together with spectacular scenery. Like me, he thought of himself and his motorbike as ‘we’; when you travel solo, it is like a partnership. There’s nothing like travelling with a classic motorcycle as your (sometimes frustrating!) companion. 

As a professor, I know that sometimes just getting through four years of college can be its own epic struggle, especially when you’re queer and half-Nigerian, like Sahara.

“The unfortunates” is the name Sahara and her friends use to describe the deaths of too many of their fellow Black students. As if that isn’t enough, Sahara sometimes feels like her only companion is her “Life Partner,” the name she gives to the ugly voice of her depression.

I loved the way The Unfortunates is told as an in-your-face “thesis” to Sahara’s university committee that mixes humor with high-stakes struggles. Follow along as Sahara figures out how to survive in the face of a campus and culture that is not just indifferent, but outright hostile.

One of Cussler’s earlier novels featuring Dirk Pitt, Cussler sends his erstwhile hero deep into a desert landscape where he throws all manner of problems at them.

As Pitt and co battle to survive the harsh conditions, they are tested to the limit as they must not only escape the arid landscape, but do in time to foil a dastardly plot. While perhaps not as much of a literary heavyweight as some of the other authors mentioned on this list, Cussler is brilliant at writing a rollicking good yarn.

If you seek more quests, you will find another exciting one in Utomi’s Forever Desert series, beginning with the novella about the Ajungo Empire.

However, to describe this story simply as a quest (for water, no less) would do no justice to the complex, exciting work Utomi does in borrowing not only from desert empires of the Sahara, but also from popular media (as the Mad Max-esque romp through the desertscape and anime-inspired battles demonstrate).

This novella is a testament to the breadth of manner and shape that Africa-inspired epic fantasy tales can take. Long may it continue.

This remarkable tale is not as well known as others, in part because it was written in 1817 and by a less accomplished writer, but it is hard to beat as a true account of nearly unsurvivable hardship. Captain James Riley, captured when his American ship—Commerce—runs aground south of Morocco, is taken into the Sahara desert along with several of his crew as slaves of Bedouins. Barefoot, terribly sunburnt, forced to drink camel urine, they walk hundreds of miles behind their master’s camels until finally ransomed by an American consul. This shocking reversal of the usual slavery tale is a poignant indictment of the slave trade. Abraham Lincoln claimed that Sufferings in Africa, along with The Bible and Pilgrim’s Progress, had the most effect on his political ideology.

One of my all-time favourite books and one of the greatest narratives about the power of the imagination.

Picture books are the best teachers of ideas because they delight the eye and because the lessons they offer never feel didactic. The opening chapter of this book offers one of the most unforgettable lessons about how to see that dimension of the visible world that is not given to sight. 

This book offers a poignant personal view of Sufism by a Scottish-born actor and writer who became disillusioned with a world “where people teach but know nothing, where the sentences flow on endlessly but lead nowhere.” He seeks and finds wisdom and solace in the deserts of Sahara under the guidance of a Sufi master to whom he dedicates his short but powerful book. When I picked it up as a reading for my class on Sufism, I thought I would find a usual mushy account of Sufism by a starry-eyed neophyte. The book was anything but: it was eloquent, deeply personal, and felicitously free from platitudes. I was pleasantly surprised and so were my students. I recommend it to everyone interested in spiritual quests regardless of his or her background.