You're Not Lost if You Can Still See the Truck
The Further Adventures of America's Everyman Outdoorsman
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4.5 • 6 Ratings
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- $11.99
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
Humorous, insightful essays on outdoor life from the renowned contributor and editor of Field & Stream—“one of the best magazine writers in America” (The Wall Street Journal).
Living the life of an outdoorsman doesn’t necessarily take skill. After more than two decades of writing about his adventures (and misadventures), Bill Heavey has proven that being a true outdoorsman just takes enthusiasm, determination, and a willingness to, occasionally, make a fool of oneself.
You’re Not Lost If You Can Still See the Truck gathers together more than sixty of Heavey’s best stories from his work in Field & Stream, The Washington Post, and The Washingtonian. Including retellings of his adventures hunting ants in the urban jungles of Washington, DC; braving freezing winter expeditions in Eastern Alaska; attempting to impress ladies by immediately flipping over his canoe; and planning deer hunts around dad-duties, these tales are chock full of life, insight, and, of course, hilarity.
Here is a far-ranging and enlightening volume that traces a life lived outdoors, for better or for worse.
“To the list of great Field & Stream essayists . . . add the name Bill Heavey. His writing is funny, poignant, acerbic, and, best of all, always alert to the absurdities of life.” —Patrick C. McManus
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Heavey (It's Only Slow Food Until You Try to Eat It) embraces his mantra "enthusiasm is a lot more important than skill" wholeheartedly in this remarkably engaging and often hilarious collection of writings from his 30-year career as a contributor to numerous publications, including Field & Stream. Even those who have never baited a hook, assembled a tree stand, or sat in a duck blind will quickly find themselves drawn into Heavey's world with colorful and occasionally dangerous accounts of outdoor life: shooting clay pigeons, nearly freezing to death in the remote Alaska wilderness, even manning the phones at Cabela's, a massive outdoor retailer that handles roughly 15,000 calls a day. There is philosophical substance embedded in Heavey's everyday musings, with insights into the murky waters of fatherhood and reflections on the meanings of childhood and manhood sprinkled throughout, but the emotional axis of the book is Heavey's wrenching essay "Suddenly, She Was Gone," an account of losing his young daughter. Unlike the chest-thumping TV personalities that dominate the outdoors hobby and leisure media today, the author's humble and articulate worldview is unfailingly refreshing.
