Review of Barefoot In Hells Canyon
Posted: 09 May 2023, 08:58
[Following is an official OnlineBookClub.org review of "Barefoot In Hells Canyon" by Bryan Gould.]
A river that tumbles between sheer cliffs in the deepest gorge on the American continent - Hells Canyon. Two nineteen-year-olds planning to ride a war surplus raft through its white-water rapids. One of them can't swim. Three days' provisions for a six-day trip. What could possibly go wrong?
Barefoot in Hells Canyon is Bryan Gould's memoir of his trip down the Snake River in the summer of 1958 with his pard (partner) Glen Burns. Although they were not literally barefoot to start with, to say that the boys were on a shoestring budget is an understatement. They reached their starting point by hitchhiking and hopping freight trains, working on farms for meals and hobnobbing with hobos.
As Bryan says to Glen when conferring with him about his memories of the trip, you don't see hobos riding on freight trains nowadays. As is often the case with memoirs, this is a unique first-person account of a world now vanished. While marooned in the backwater town of Hagerman, Idaho, the pair discover a drugstore with an old-fashioned soda fountain. The attendant is so fascinated by their travels that he repeatedly serves them traditionally mixed Cokes on the house, mostly in their favourite cherry flavour. (If you've ever wondered why you've never come across pineapple Coke, read this book to find out!)
The story sparkled with many such details, all vividly described in a literary style. While it was all fascinating, as a consequence of the amount of detail, the duo's arrival at Hells Canyon was a long time coming. This means that the title is a little misleading since Hells Canyon was just one leg of a longer, more complex journey.
This is not to say that that part was not the highlight, of course. In Hells Canyon, the power of the plunging waters was at its most raw. The boys' very survival was under threat from the forces of nature, their raft and provisions puny in comparison. Bryan obviously lived to tell the tale, which includes many reflections, often in conversation with Glen.
For, rather as the boys gained different perspectives on the river when they scouted the hairiest rapids from above before attempting them, the present-day chapters gave a longer view of the events. On the one hand, those sometimes disrupted the story's pace. On the other hand, they provided valuable background information, some gleaned thanks to modern technology.
A map at the beginning orients readers further. It shows the river as it is now. It would have been interesting to see a map with the names of the actual creeks and rapids the boys rode over (or under, or through, as applicable). I appreciate that the map they used, courtesy of Snake River expert Blaine Stubblefield, was a casualty of the trip!
I rate this white-knuckle ride through a bygone era four out of five stars. I could not quite give a perfect rating because of the slight pacing issues mentioned above. The title does not necessarily need to be changed, but the book could be improved with a clear indication that Hells Canyon is only one section of a larger story. As is, the balance felt a little off. Also, I found more than ten errors, although these were minor and non-distracting: the print version I read was cleanly put together. Gould did a fantastic job of harnessing his and his pard's memories for posterity to enjoy.
******
Barefoot In Hells Canyon
View: on Bookshelves | on Amazon
A river that tumbles between sheer cliffs in the deepest gorge on the American continent - Hells Canyon. Two nineteen-year-olds planning to ride a war surplus raft through its white-water rapids. One of them can't swim. Three days' provisions for a six-day trip. What could possibly go wrong?
Barefoot in Hells Canyon is Bryan Gould's memoir of his trip down the Snake River in the summer of 1958 with his pard (partner) Glen Burns. Although they were not literally barefoot to start with, to say that the boys were on a shoestring budget is an understatement. They reached their starting point by hitchhiking and hopping freight trains, working on farms for meals and hobnobbing with hobos.
As Bryan says to Glen when conferring with him about his memories of the trip, you don't see hobos riding on freight trains nowadays. As is often the case with memoirs, this is a unique first-person account of a world now vanished. While marooned in the backwater town of Hagerman, Idaho, the pair discover a drugstore with an old-fashioned soda fountain. The attendant is so fascinated by their travels that he repeatedly serves them traditionally mixed Cokes on the house, mostly in their favourite cherry flavour. (If you've ever wondered why you've never come across pineapple Coke, read this book to find out!)
The story sparkled with many such details, all vividly described in a literary style. While it was all fascinating, as a consequence of the amount of detail, the duo's arrival at Hells Canyon was a long time coming. This means that the title is a little misleading since Hells Canyon was just one leg of a longer, more complex journey.
This is not to say that that part was not the highlight, of course. In Hells Canyon, the power of the plunging waters was at its most raw. The boys' very survival was under threat from the forces of nature, their raft and provisions puny in comparison. Bryan obviously lived to tell the tale, which includes many reflections, often in conversation with Glen.
For, rather as the boys gained different perspectives on the river when they scouted the hairiest rapids from above before attempting them, the present-day chapters gave a longer view of the events. On the one hand, those sometimes disrupted the story's pace. On the other hand, they provided valuable background information, some gleaned thanks to modern technology.
A map at the beginning orients readers further. It shows the river as it is now. It would have been interesting to see a map with the names of the actual creeks and rapids the boys rode over (or under, or through, as applicable). I appreciate that the map they used, courtesy of Snake River expert Blaine Stubblefield, was a casualty of the trip!
I rate this white-knuckle ride through a bygone era four out of five stars. I could not quite give a perfect rating because of the slight pacing issues mentioned above. The title does not necessarily need to be changed, but the book could be improved with a clear indication that Hells Canyon is only one section of a larger story. As is, the balance felt a little off. Also, I found more than ten errors, although these were minor and non-distracting: the print version I read was cleanly put together. Gould did a fantastic job of harnessing his and his pard's memories for posterity to enjoy.
******
Barefoot In Hells Canyon
View: on Bookshelves | on Amazon