Quick Take
- Narration: Lawton Grinter self-narrates with the loose, self-deprecating ease of someone who has told these stories at campfires, which is exactly the register these tales need.
- Themes: long-distance hiking culture, absurdity and resilience on America’s trails, the particular community of thru-hikers
- Mood: Funny and occasionally agonizing, like hearing trail stories from someone who survived things they probably should not have
- Verdict: A cheerful, fast-moving collection of trail vignettes that works best for hikers who already know what it means to be Disco on the AT.
I finished I Hike on a Saturday morning over coffee, which felt slightly incongruous given that the book is mostly about being wet, lost, hypothermic, or consumed by mosquitoes in places like South Oregon. Lawton Grinter, known in thru-hiking circles as Disco, accumulated 10,000 trail miles over a decade on the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail, and what he has done here is assemble the best of those stories into a collection that reads, or rather listens, like the most entertaining person at a hostel finally sitting down to write.
The format is short stories, twelve of them, described by Grinter as mostly true, which tells you something about the tone from the first minutes. This is not a philosophical memoir about what the wilderness teaches us about ourselves. It is a book about being in peculiar situations and surviving them with your sense of humor more or less intact. Think of it as the anti-Wild, not because Cheryl Strayed’s book lacks humor but because Grinter is less interested in transformation than in the comedy inherent in choosing to walk very long distances for reasons that do not hold up to much rational scrutiny.
Our Take on I Hike
Grinter self-narrates and it is the right call. He has the cadence of someone who has told these stories before, relaxed and slightly amused at his own former decisions. The campfire quality of the performance makes five hours feel shorter than they are. One reviewer described reading sections aloud in a shelter in the Maine woods and having multiple people laugh out loud, which suggests that the material works communally as much as it does privately. A more skeptical reviewer found the subject matter not compelling enough for a book, which is a fair position but also one that fundamentally misunderstands the audience. This book was written for people who already know why you would walk 2,650 miles in the first place.
Why Listen to I Hike
Because Grinter captures something that most hiking literature handles poorly: the absurdity. The close encounter with hypothermia is not dramatized as a near-death epiphany. The mosquito section, which takes place in Fremont National Forest territory in South Oregon, is exactly as funny as misery can be when rendered with the right distance of time and retrospection. The section on the kindness of strangers on the trail is genuinely affecting without trying to be. And the peculiar social culture of long-distance hikers, the trail names, the hierarchies, the shared reference points, is rendered from inside that culture rather than explained to an outsider, which is where this book earns its authenticity.
What to Watch For in I Hike
The stories vary in quality and some reviewers felt the collection petered out toward the end, which is a legitimate structural observation. At five hours and eight minutes this is a comfortable single-session listen, but if you are not already part of the thru-hiking world or at least adjacent to it, some of the stories may feel like inside jokes where you are not sure you are quite inside enough to get them. One reviewer placed it below Wild in the rankings of long-trail memoirs, and while that comparison is debatable, it suggests a useful calibration: this is not trying to be the definitive thru-hiking memoir, just a collection of very good campfire stories.
Who Should Listen to I Hike
Hikers who have attempted or are dreaming about the AT, PCT, or CDT will get the most out of this. Trail culture devotees who know what trail names mean and why people choose them will find it funnier. Readers who liked the voice of A Walk in the Woods more than the scale of it will be well-served here. Skip it if you need emotional transformation arc in your outdoor memoirs, or if you find self-deprecating humor more irritating than endearing.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Lawton Grinter’s trail name and does it come up in the audiobook?
Yes, Grinter is known as Disco in thru-hiking circles and the name is referenced in the book. Reviews mention it specifically. The trail name and the culture around trail naming is part of the world the book inhabits.
Does I Hike cover all three major long trails or focus on one?
The collection draws from stories across the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail, accumulated over a decade and roughly 10,000 miles of hiking. No single trail dominates.
Is this book suitable for someone who has never done a thru-hike or long-distance hiking?
It is accessible to curious non-hikers but works best for people with at least some trail experience. The humor and the community references land more fully when you have some frame of reference for how long-distance hiking actually feels. One reviewer noted it inspired them to consider their first thru-hike.
How does this compare to Wild by Cheryl Strayed for listeners looking for PCT trail stories?
They are very different books despite the shared trail geography. Wild is a memoir of personal transformation with the PCT as its spine. I Hike is a looser collection of episodic stories where the humor is the primary mode. Strayed’s book has more emotional depth; Grinter’s has more laughs. Most long-trail enthusiasts would enjoy both.
