*Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing this book in exchange for an honest review*

It was impossible for me not to compare this book to Cheryl Strayed's "Wild" and, I admit, Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods". Ultimately, while there are whispers of both those books in this one, I didn't find it quite as profound as I'd hoped - but I still enjoyed reading it!

Hankes provides a really honest account of his experience hiking the AT, sprinkled with a few memories from his time serving in Iraq. Most of the word count is spent on the minutiae of hiking the AT - the sights, the food, the shelters and camping, the temperature, the clothing (the smell), the random acts of kindness, the physical toil - and what's not to like about that? For me, there's something hugely meditative about books like this, especially as someone who has had arthritis from a young age and knows this kind of journey will never be possible for her.

In between trail life, Hankes spent a very sizeable chunk of the book chewing over his fears and doubts about whether the Iraq war was a noble or corrupt endeavour, and whether capitalism will destroy America's environment and human society. I didn't mind this, although there was too much of it for me, and it was fairly repetitive and abstract. I kept waiting to get back to the trail, where my mind was happy to follow in Hankes' footsteps. Whether you dream of hiking the AT, or you want to live it vicariously, I recommend this book.

This book covers the lives and changes of two brothers hiking the Appalachia Trail and the people and places they meet on the way and their sense of greater understanding. The trek reminded me of similar stories such as Camino de Santiago trail in Europe. It was a little tough to get interested in, but When I did, I enjoyed it.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing this book in exchange for an honest review.
I enjoy books written about these long journeys on mountain trails. The backpackers always seem to become enlightened on a personal level. This book is not just about the experience of the hike with the author's brother. It delves deeper into the "whys" of war and government. A couple of chapters give snippets of his experience in Iraq, which I found interesting and really pertinent to the overall book.

Waking Up supposedly chronicles an Army vet’s hike with his brother along the Appalachian Trail as the author looks for “time in the wilderness” to help provide “answers and clarity” regarding his time in Iraq, or… something.

But this isn't a hiking book or a trail tome. It's not even much of a "memoir." Most of Waking Up is just a convenient springboard for a slow roll into a slathering left-wing socio-economic harangue of Springer Mountain proportions. Indeed, a sizeable slice of the book is spent alternately blasting society for its alleged greed and corruption and blaming everyone else on planet earth for the author’s own lack of preparation, planning, and poor choices.

Just when you think this stroll into somnambulance can’t get any more tedious or tiresome, enter “counter culture Dylan.” He’s a hiking buddy and patron saint of weed, suds, and all things cynical and self-centric. This guy’s Pecksniffian sermonizing takes up pages and pages, straining credulity and attention to the breaking point.

Indeed, the story quickly spirals into a monotonous, monochrome rant. Think leaky faucet. Yawn.

The writing is also stilted and smarmy in places, to the point of maudlin. It chases the rim edge of rudderless and anchorless so often, you forget where you’re going or why. And you really don't care:

• “Pavlovian angst” and “imagines (sic) of pizza”?
• “Recreational negativity” and “patriotic arrogance”?
• “In my increasing moments of clarity, I observed myself attempting to be like everyone else- engaged and outgoing – not the reclusive bookworm perpetually straining to appear interested in the cultural vapidity around me.”

Seriously? (Like that’s not patronizing or anything.)

In the final analysis, this book isn’t a “wake up” call to anything. It’s as inspiring as an overcooked cabbage and makes watching paint peel look exciting.

It’s also mis-titled. A more accurate title would be 'Nate and Ben’s Excellent 'Pothead Adventure to Springer Mountain'. Or' Noam Chomsky, Lyme Disease and Too Much Ramen'. Maybe 'A Torturous Hiking History with Howard Zinn.'

I had to force myself to finish this snoozer. It’s not a hiking memoir. It’s a plywood bully pulpit for Saint Dylan, liberally coated with 2,000+ miles of trail dust, wildcat moonshine and tokes. It’s also political propaganda sprinkled with garrulous, insipid accounts of the physical hardship and discomfort of long distance backpacking when you’re woefully under-prepared and don’t have Clue 1 WTH you’re doing. (Edward Abbey? Really? Oh. In a moment of “cosmic revelation,” the author also decides he’s God. Good luck with that one.)

If I spent moola on this pile of horse hooey, I’d want a refund.

Finally, Waking Up may work as a private journal. But as a book? Well. Pass the No Doze. And don't waste your time.

I always like reading or watching about people who are back from the war.Seeing how their psychology is affected and the post trauma is something so fascinating to me.That's why I enjoyed reading this book.If you also like these tropes,you'll probably like reading this.