The nature writing of Gary Ferguson arises out of intimate experience. He trekked 500 miles through Yellowstone to write Walking Down the Wild and spent a season in the field at a wilderness therapy program for Shouting at the Sky. He journeyed 250 miles on foot for Hawks Rest and followed through the seasons the first fourteen wolves released into Yellowstone National Park for The Yellowstone Wolves. But nothing could prepare him for the experience he details in his new book.
The Carry Home is both a moving celebration of the outdoor life shared between Ferguson and his wife Jane, who died tragically in a canoeing accident in northern Ontario in 2005, and a chronicle of the mending, uplifting power of nature. Confronting his unthinkable loss, Ferguson set out to fulfill Jane’s final wish: the scattering of her ashes in five remote, wild locations they loved and shared. The act of the carry home allows Ferguson the opportunity to ruminate on their life together as well as explore deeply the impactful presence of nature in all of our lives.
Theirs was a love borne of wild places, and The Carry Home offers a powerful glimpse into how the natural world can be a critical prompt for moving through cycles of immeasurable grief, how bereavement can turn to wonder, and how one man rediscovered himself in the process of saying goodbye.
Nature writer, 1956- Award-winning author Gary Ferguson has written for a variety of national publications, including Vanity Fair and the Chicago Tribune, and is the author of twenty-six books on nature and science. His memoir, The Carry Home, which the Los Angeles Times called “gorgeous, with beauty on every page,” was awarded “Best Nature book of the Year” by the Sigurd Olson Environmental Institute. Gary is the co-founder of Full Ecology, with his wife, social scientists Mary M. Clare.
An achingly beautiful tribute to the author's late wife and the healing to be found in wild places. I'm inarguably the least outdoorsy person you'll ever meet--my idea of roughing it is staying a night in a motel--but Ferguson's depictions of the places in which he scatters his wife's ashes coupled with explanations of why they meant so much to the couple moved me to tears. He drives home the sacredness of the earth and our inexorable connection to it, while celebrating his late wife's life, the love they shared, and resilience in the face of unspeakable loss.
Gary Ferguson has been a voice for the wilderness for the past 25 years. His steady, sturdy prose has translated the power of wild places in to 22 nonfiction titles like Hawk’s Rest, The Yellowstone Wolves, The Great Divide and Walking Down the Wild.
Combining lyrical images, scientific research and hard-won, first-hand experiences, Ferguson has shown readers how the untamed natural world challenges, informs, inspires and awes us.
In his latest book, The Carry Home: Lessons from the American Wilderness, Ferguson explores another dimension of the power of wild places: healing.
The Carry Home chronicles Ferguson’s quest to scatter his wife Jane’s ashes in several locations that she specified: the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, near a Forest Service cabin in southern Montana, a remote corner of Capitol Reef National Park in Utah, the Lamar Valley in Yellowstone and Wyoming’s Absaroka Range.
It is one last adventure in the Great Outdoors for the couple, married for 25 years and bonded through their shared love of exploring, hiking, canoeing and roadtripping (they put 350,000 miles on a 1979 Chevy van).
Ferguson invites us to join him on this intimate journey, and as the tale unfolds, we witness the healing balm that nature provides.
“At first, the journeys broke my heart,” he writes. “Later they helped me to piece it together again.”
Ferguson’s books have excelled at telling other peoples’ stories, like wildlife biologists studying grey wolves or troubled teens in a wilderness therapy program. The Carry Home turns the author’s focus on himself, and his chronicle of grief is unstinting and raw, deftly avoiding maudlin and over-sentimental prose. The reader travels alongside Ferguson — riding shotgun in the Chevy, hiking trails, paddling rivers — as he revisits hallowed ground and meditates on love, wild places and how both came to be braided together in the story of their marriage.
My husband loved the out of doors. He died 7 months ago. Many friends gave me books to read to help with the grief. This one is my favorite. I resisted reading it for quite a while, but last night as I finished I realized that going back to nature will start my healing process as well. I have been many of the places the author has visited with my companion as well. Maybe that is why the book was so powerful for me. I've tried to go skiing and snowshoeing and ended up sobbing- maybe it was too soon. Spring is coming so may this year I can go to some of his favorite spots and find some peace. His stories of Jane, and the memories they shared were a strong tribute. Some favorite quotes from the book: "Then old man's eyes were tearful, As he journeyed back the years. A once hopeful life now silenced, from decades filled with fears, The island that he sailed for, is the same we all must reach, But in the journey lies the treasure, and not upon the beach." "My redemption would come in the form of a last request Jane made years before, asking me if she died, to scatter her ashes in her five favorite wilderness areas. And so I did. Five treks to five unshackled landscapes. At first, the journeys broke my heart. Later they helped me piece it together again. In the end these journeys would bring me back to nature again, to wilderness. To the lilting beauty of unkempt places – places powerful enough to woo the hearts not only of the young but of anyone willing to put down the search for meaning for a little while and just float in the sensations of being alive." “The grief ran down the highways with me—a mix of tenderness and sorrow that shifted with every passing town, with the far side of every mountain pass, at every place where pavement turned to dirt.” "I was thinking about all the ways people lose their bearings on inward journeys, too. When we're lost inside ourselves... isolation can be incredibly appealing....The passage always begins with a loss of identity. That loss of identity is followed by an often-long, sometimes-excruciating wandering phase -- as sense of having no idea where you are, no idea where you're going. A sense of being lost. ...I knew that this was also what I needed when wandering through the dark, throne fields of grief." " It wasn't that I didn't know the power of community: I'd seen it time and again, both in the months following Jane's death, but also years before -- how friends, even new friends, really can in times of tragedy take a share of the burden and , in doing so, stem the bleeding of loneliness." I too am drawn to the call of the sandhill crane.
If you have been married a long time and are still in love with your spouse you will find parts of this book very difficult to read. Ferguson's pacing between the telling of the tragic accident that took his wife, Jane's life and the story of the American Environmental movement (and all the battles that still need to be fought)provides a respite for the reader emotionally as well an education on a vital piece of our history as a country and our role as stewards of the land. If love, friendship, acceptance of the unacceptable and the American wilderness mean anything to you do not miss this book.
Oh, my goodness. Having earlier read one of Ferguson's earlier books, Walking Down the Wild, I eagerly picked up The Carry Home, not aware of the tragedy that had beset Ferguson and his wife Jane some years after the earlier book. What a moving memoir ... of living with loss, of the beauty of nature, of native spirituality ... written lovingly and in beautiful prose. Highly recommended, especially if you have read Ferguson's earlier works.
I've never experienced this kind of grief, but this book made me feel deeply. It makes me wish I had known Jane. It makes me want to get out. I really feel changed by this book.
I'll be thinking about this one for a long time. Gorgeous prose. Hopeful without being cliche. Devastating without leaving you hopeless. An incredible reflection on grief. Highly highly recommend.
This is a really sweet story, and it's an adventurer's memoir.
Gary's wife passed away in a canoeing accident. She wanted her ashes spread in five of her favorite wilderness spots. This is Gary's story of the trips he took to do that.
It made me think about what I would want after I die. Gary gave out baby trees for everyone to plant at the funeral. I love that idea. I also like the idea of the people left behind going to the places that I loved the most as a way to celebrate my life.
I also thought about how there's a very good chance, I'll be the one left behind, and how I think I would want trips like these if my adventuring partner dies before I do as a way to keep myself moving forward.
I wasn't sure if I was ready to read this book, I knew that it was going to be hard because of the similarities - the loss of someone too young doing an outdoor activity that they love. Add being set in the small town of Red Lodge and I really wasn't sure how this was going to go.
But I thought that with leaving Red Lodge it would be a good time. I'm so thankful that I did. While sections of this book were as hard as expected, the EMT call-out especially, they were also beautiful. To think that the people I knew and loved had been thanked in the same way as many before them... it was extremely beautiful. While I can't stay in RL any longer, the people and the place that made it home will always remain a part of who I was and am. Both the living and the two no longer with us. And this book does such a beautiful job of putting words to this. The people we love are with us forever.
It's not often in loss that people get to read books so reminiscent of their own experience but somehow in a small town at the base of the Beartooth mountains, this was so fitting.
Goodbye Jane. Goodbye Andrew. Goodbye Casey.
Thank you for what you made this town. Thank you Jane for putting so much love into Cafe Regis; it helped in hard times.
My parents were neighbors with Gary, and Jane, I assume -- I wasn't clear on where their house in Red Lodge, MT, was in relation to my parents', but they spoke fondly of him. The copy of this book I got from my mom's shelves after she died last year is inscribed, "To Lucille, Here's to the beautiful places that help us heal. 2014." My dad died that year; I don't know if he got to read this book, or if Gary was alluding to my mom's loss as well as his own.
I am incredibly moved and touched, and yet so subtly and softly, by this most gorgeous book of love, grief, nature, and relationships. Has it affected me so intensely because of where I am with my own journey of grief and my deep appreciation of nature to bring light and joy and life into our darkest times? I kept thinking of others who should crack open this rare find -- I have a dear friend who lost her fiance in a kayaking accident before I knew her, and another who lost her fiance riding his bike to his job at REI. Another friend is a geologist whose family cabin is near the top of the Beartooths, and all of these women live closely with nature and that healing beauty. I must gift this book to them. I'll also recommend it as one of my most favorite reads of the year by far.
Beautiful prose, just reading the words, nature seems to glimmer in the forefront of my imagination. Ferguson has a wonderful way with words, and I enjoyed just reading the amazing descriptions of things in his book. Some might find it a bit verbose, but for me, the descriptions brought the wild places to life, took me away from mundane daily life and into a nature refuge. While nothing is as peaceful as being out under the stars, or going on nature hikes in the woods.... The text was able to bring me to that same sense of serenity.
That aside, the memoir is a journey through grief, so it doesn't just focus on nature, but describes the author's loss of his wife, how he took the first steps through his grief, and culminated with a journey to scatter her ashes in various places she loved. His story is heartbreaking, poignant, and ultimately, healing.
Beautifully descriptive and thoughtful. This book reminded how much I love memoirs and the messages that others have to share through stories. I loved the format combining time skips with personal anecdotes and natural descriptions. It’s encouraging me to be more curious and playful in nature and everyday life.
Loved the first half of the book, got a bit tired of his ramblings by the second half. The main issue I have with this book is the fact it’s just another outdoorsy white dude writing about America. That doesn’t take away from its intended message, but it doesn’t give much credit or attention to indigenous messages about nature. He made many mentions of indigenous stories but told a very Eurocentric history of American exploration, citing a lot of dead white poets/writers. Tbh I just want to read more books about nature/the outdoors written by bipoc.
As a personal commenatry on the value of natures's beauty as a vehicle for emotional and spiritual growth, the book is of the highest quality. The narrative moves well and the writing is uplifting.
I did find the commentary on the generational differerances regarding views of nature interesting, and upon reflection I probably agree mostly the the author's points of view. However, I did detect only the slightest bit of over confidence in his interpretation of this history, and a trace of condensation to folks that do not subscribe to his interpretation of the issues.
SO grateful to Brenna for gifting me this book before I left to raft through the Grand Canyon. That magical place was the perfect setting to read this book. This is the most beautiful reflection on grief and wilderness I have ever read. I cried, I gasped, I aggressively highlighted passages and wrote in the margins. One of my favorite books, ever, and certainly one I needed to read at this time in my life. Grief is such a terrible thing, and I am in awe of Ferguson's ability to write so beautifully about it.
It's not really a 5 star book--but a book I was in the mood for. The author's wife was killed in a canoe accident, while accidentally running a wicked rapids with the author. The author goes around to 5 different wilderness locations to distribute his wife's ashes, and remembers their life together. It sounds like a bummer, but he really kind of celebrated her life and the wilderness, especially the northern Rockies. I'm ready for another backpack/canoe trip!!
Great book. The love that these two people shared was beautiful. They saw everything with detail. His journey to say goodbye was a tribute to the life they shared and the great outdoors. I can only imagine that the final destination was knowing that his journey was over with the great love of his life.
a beautifuly written book following the death of the author's wife on a rafting trip. They were both experts on wilderness activities and were employed in wilderness jobs. The author relates his grief process and return to life through scattering her ashes in five of her favorite wilderness areas.
A beautiful tribute to wild places and the love that can be found, formed, and lost in them. It’s been a while since a story has inspired and touched me this deeply. My copy is now well worn, underlined, and full of notes in the margins. The Carry Home has secured a solid and lasting spot on my favorites list.
As an aging boomer my heartstrings were touched by this account of a life following the wilds as so many of our generation aspired to. The narrative by one of a younger generation following, actually retracing his own long life through the calling of the wild and his love is an engrossing easy read. It left me happier to have shared also in seeking a life close to nature.
Gary Ferguson, a master storyteller and painter of scenes, shares how he coped with the loss of his wife in a canoeing accident and how he found healing by immersing himself in the wild country surrounding Yellowstone Park. It is an inspiring, uplifting read set in a beautiful part of the country.
This was a beautiful story of loss, grief and healing after the death of auhor's wife and soulmate. It was also a wonderful tribute to the tremendous beauty and power of nature. I felt I learned a great deal from this book and am very glad I read it.
I’ve certainly read better nature writing. I’ve read more important nature writing. And there’s nothing about this book that would make it a seminal work. But I’ve never read nature writing with more heart than this.
Two things Gary Ferguson has loved deeply, intimately, and with a vulnerable serenity born from decades’ close contact: the American wilderness, and his deceased wife Jane. In The Carry Home, Ferguson does not offer solutions to our 21st century environmental troubles. He doesn’t propose grand philosophical theories to frame our ideas of the natural world. Instead, he offers us how it has been, and how it still is, to live life as a baby-boomer conservationist, and an intentional inhabitant of the grandest American landscapes.
Ferguson is the first to admit that the 20th century’s naive conception of wilderness needs problematizing. The demand his book makes—though it does it quietly and implicitly—is that we work through those problems, because here Ferguson has shown us the value and power of the American wilderness as it still exists today.
If the baby boomer conservationists made missteps (and let’s be clear: they did), then redemption of our shared environmental future can only come through listening to the hard-earned wisdom of our elders from that generation. Ferguson is one of those elders. I’ll be reading more of his works in the future, and looking to what his remaining decades as a nature writer give the world.
Sincere and thoughtful writing that combines nature and the highly emotional subject of grief. Wonderfully composed and if you like the outdoor live, you will love this book.