I know I say I don’t really do book reviews, but here I am, finding myself reporting on another one only a week or so after reviewing The Beauty of Ordinary Things. But I can’t help myself. If there’s a book I like—especially if it shines a light on the mountains of New Hampshire like this one does—I’m going to say something about it. Who knows, maybe I’ll start a book club for men since there seems to be literally zero of them out there. But until that day comes, I’ll settle for sharing good books on this site.
To that end, let me tell you about White Mountains State. This past April I met Keith Gentili, who is the author of White Mountains State and also the editor and publisher of The New Boston Beacon. We were both at the AMC Awards Ceremony, selling copies of our respective books about climbing the 4000-footers, and happened to be stationed at tables across the way from each other. I had never heard of Keith’s book before, and of course mine was relatively new, so we exchanged books to see what the other one was about.
The More, the Merrier
You may think it odd for me to review a book that on the surface might seem so similar to 4000s by 40. Keith’s book, for example, documents his goal of climbing the 4000-footers by age 48, very much like my goal of climbing them by 40. Both of our books are symbolic of the major goals we all make in life—whether it’s climbing mountains or some other pursuit—to hopefully accomplish x by a certain time. But as I’ve said many times, the age doesn’t matter—all that matters is the going. And while of course both our books are about climbing mountains, and I could very much relate to Gentili’s descriptions and experiences, the books are distinctly different. The subtext here is that if you’re planning on climbing the 4000-footers and want to read up on them, you should check out both books!
As Dan Szczesny, author of The White Mountain: Rediscovering Mount Washington’s Hidden Culture, says, “Gentili writes with the eye and ear of a reporter.” In that vein, Gentili’s book delivers each climbing experience, not like a trip report you find online, but like a column in a newspaper that you have to check in with each week to see where the adventure goes next. Along with describing his motivations for climbing, Gentili interviews the friends who joined him on the journey, shedding light on the collective experience. The result is a quick-flowing read that illuminates what it’s like to climb the 4000-footers while mixing in a good amount of buddy humor.
For the Journey
If someone is looking to begin their 4000-footer journey, White Mountains State will give you a really good idea of what to expect. Gentili does a great job of describing the planning process and openly discusses the inevitable discontent—and joys—that come from climbing with buddies. When you’re out there hiking with friends, people have different rhythms, and learning what works for everyone takes some time. White Mountains State tells that story.
What I personally enjoyed the most about the book, though, was that it gave me a chance to relive the experience. When Gentili and his buddies surface on South Twin, and look out on the beautiful landscape from its summit, I can go right back there in my mind and imagine what he’s talking about. When they discover the need for microspikes, I chuckled, because I felt that pain and discussed it in 4000s by 40. Apparently this is a very common learning step in people’s 4000-footer journeys. And while the themes of our books vary, I loved seeing where they intersected, because hiking and climbing is a universal language that doesn’t diminish with the more stories we learn.
If you’re looking to grab a copy of White Mountains State, consider buying it through my online bookstore here, which supports independent bookstores. Enjoy!
