
The Relentless Search to Bring Home the Missing Hikers of the Pacific Crest Trail by Andrea Langford
This work of true crime utterly possessed me; I am torn between wanting my hiking friends to read it, because I don’t want any of these awful things to happen to them, or not wanting them to read it, because it will terrify them into never venturing into the wilds again. (I am probably going to buy a few copies of this book this Christmas as gifts for those same friends!) Anyone who knows someone who hikes or camps or goes “off trail” for any reason should have an eye out for this book.
The depth of Lankford’s research, the number of interviews and observations, and the countless hours and days and weeks spent in Search and Rescue to make this book happen is staggering; that alone is a draw for anyone interested in this kind of crime non-fiction. Lankford themself is well-positioned to write on the subject. As a former ranger involved in several S&R investigations, Lankford is more than a hiker. Here, Lankford takes on the role of investigative journalist, detective, social worker, and friend.
The book focuses on the disappearances of three men (primarily) from the Pacific Crest Trail, which runs along the West Coast, from California up to and through Washington State. Kris Fowler, David O’Sullivan, and Chris Sylvia vanished from the trail in mysterious circumstances and have yet to be found, alive or otherwise.
But, of course, the book is about more than them and their individual cases; Trail of the Lost is also about their families and loved ones, the grief and pain of their loss, the process and protocols of police and other investigations into vanishings, and — perhaps this is where the book truly shines and connects with readers on a wholly different level — the culture of the trail and of extreme hiking. By giving readers a view into the the lure of these activities and the perils they entail, Trail illuminates certain flaws in our societal ideals and in the normative flows of life around work-family-friendship-community. Lankford highlights what might be missing in our urban/suburban spaces that trails like this offer. Chapters that seemingly veer off onto tangential subjects, like the Yellow Deli Group, or suspicious and creepy “trail trolls” in fact, draw attention to deeply inclusive, welcoming, altruistic, and connected the culture of the PCT and hiking is (or can be).
The irony is, of course, that individuals take on these hikes individually; they seek isolation — and yet, the culture of the trail highlights the deep dependence we, as humans, have on each other, and our need for social contact, a sense of belonging with others, a sense of community.
