Strange and Dangerous Dreams: The Fine Line Between Adventure and Madness

The history of adventure and adventure travel has many stories and heroes: so how is the search for adventure defined, and what makes seekers distinct? STRANGE AND DANGEROUS DREAMS: THE FINE LINE BETWEEN ADVENTURE AND MADNESS covers the lives of eleven selected adventurers, some well known and some more obscure, covering two centuries. Chapters categorize these explorers by the emotional turmoil that drove them out into the world - and their common connection is that each has been called 'mad'. Psychological probe meets adventure story in a collection highly recommended for general library acquisition. Diane C. Donovan California Bookwatch

The real key to this book is in its sub-title. The author is a psychologist and a veteran of thirteen climbing expeditions to the Himalaya. Perhaps he, himself, is his first patient as he examines what makes people take on dangerous hobies, sports, or jobs. He is examining 'the fine line' that marks the difference between striving for your best and carrying it so far that it becomes maddness or even suicidal. We all know people who have trouble because of 'an old football injury,' or bone spur's from throwing a baseball to many times, or hearing loss from loud music. Where does the thrill of the sport cross over? It's a most interesting book, but as with the case of most psychological analysis, it doesn't give really a solid answer. It's easy to say this is an example of a person gone too far, and the other end of the scale is also easy to see. But inbetween?

Being an avid reader of mountaineering literature, both historic and contemporary, I was already familiar with the accomplishments (or lack thereof) of the climbers in this book. However, seen from writer Geoff Powter's perspective, who is both a practicing psychologist and a veteran of many important ascents in North America and the Himalaya, his arguments for inspired madness have breathed new life into what had once seemed all too familiar territory. The same can be said of the others in the book who he selected from a roster of many hundreds, if not thousands, of possibilities. Whether launching their flimsy craft onto the high seas, or into the air scant meters above the seas, all of the adventurers had one thing in common: they were swimming against the enervating currents of conventionality. If there's one thing that I've been able to take away from this reading, it's this: don't take the well-worn phrase, "Because it's there!" too lightly. Pat Morrow, author Beyond Everest, Quest For The Seven Summits

A "human desire for heroes of virgin promise" is the foundation that winds through three areas, 1) the burdened (Lewis, Scott, Andree and Crowhurst), 2) the bent (Franklin, Batten and Crowley) and 3) the lost (Corti, Wilson, Denman and three Watermans). This is a frightening and compulsive read that visits your thoughts for a long time. These are lower and greater than average people we have heard bits and pieces about, but rarely have an opportunity to get inside them with their thoughts, goals, failings, families and colleagues. There is a current "rediscovery" of the age of heroism focused on a few who made the last great efforts. These are compelling stories of naivety and idealistic persistence with a strong dose of ignorance and lack of adequate preparation. Meriwether Lewis is melancholy and committed suicide after the Lewis and Clark expedition for Thomas Jefferson. Robert Scott is overtaken by scurvy and cold and dies within 18 kilometers of a "one ton depot" of food and supplies after Norwegian Roald Amundsen had beaten him to the South Pole by almost one month. Solomon Andree attempted to balloon over the North Pole, and in the end he and two companions died from eating trichinosis-infected bear meat and were also probably asphyxiated by carbon monoxide in a tent made from airtight balloon fabric. Donald Crowhurst attempted to sail solo around the world on the not-quite-finished tri-hull "Teignmouth Electron" only to wander in the south Atlantic (while supposedly racing around the globe), then disappear under the influence of bipolarity from his ship in the north Atlantic five months later. In pursuit of the mythic Northwest Passage, Sir John Franklin, Britain's "Arctic hero," led all 127 of his men to a "fate as terrible as the imagination can conceive." Considered one of the best equipped expeditions of 1845, over the course of four years they endured disease, starvation, lead poisoning and cannibalism. It is only modern forensic science that has revealed the true "hand of Franklin" in the last few years. Jean Batten was raised to be independent and groomed for a chance at distinction. In 1934-36 Batten flew solo from the United Kingdom to Buenos Aires, Australia and New Zealand and dropped out of public view at the age of 28, and died of an infected dog bite in a budget tourist apartment south of Palma de Mallorca, Spain at age 73. Alister Crowley excelled in tasting everything forbidden and expanding his sensual experiences. Crowley set high standards in whatever he did, but he also evolved into an "abrasive, drug-addicted and sexually exploitive man who helped ruin the lives of many people who brushed up against him." In 1901-02 his expedition reached 6700 meters on K2, despite his daily drug exploration with opium, cocaine, laudanum, hashish, mescaline and alcohol and his use of prostitutes and battling with all his teammates. Tabloids in the UK and USA ate up Crowley's antics of always pushing the envelope, labeling him the

If you are one of the intrepid few who soldiered beyond the flipped-out cover flap, congratulations, you have just discovered an entire set of uniquely interesting tales; each of which begs the question: Why do seemingly sane people risk their lives in both fantastic and frivolous pursuits when they could be someplace exceedingly dull, planted on their pants-pockets like the rest of us? Enter author and clinical psychologist Geoff Powter's eleven gripping tales (...well ten for me, excepting "The Wickedest Man"), all determined to enlighten the uninitiated. Meet the Burdened: 1) Meriwether Lewis: Ying to Clark's Yang, Meriwether returns from America's great Corps of Discovery to find only deepening darkness and an unforeseen end. 2) Robert Falcon Scott: Second to the South Pole in a race that honored only first, this doomed explorer whispers from the grave, "Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell." 3) Solomon Andree: With little more preparation than crossed fingers, this balloon bound North Pole hopeful states, "Shall we be thought mad...?" and then promptly threw caution, and his life, to the wind. 4) Donald Crowhurst: Would be global sailor, Crowhurst slipped anchor to ethics and sanity, and when he discovered the world was flat, he promptly slipped off the edge. The Bent: 1) John Franklin: Beginning with a quest for the Northwest Passage, he ends with, "...a cooking pot, filled with boiled human bones." 2) Jean Batten: After narcissistically fighting her way to world-crossing, record-setting flights, she slips into half-centuries of singular loneliness. 3) Aleister Crowley: "The Wickedest Man in the World," and subject of an utterly repulsive chapter, this fringe miscreant is the cover's inspiration and responsible for my considering four stars instead of five. Why didn't I go there? Despite MY glowing red line between interestingly driven and insanely perverse, I realized that this cracked case study might be the star for Powter's more psychology-slanted readers. Gentle others... beware. The Lost: 1) Claudio Corti: After this "...befuddled child in the body of a man," was hoisted up the face of the Eigerwand on another man's back, he then inexplicably knighted himself the "first Italian to climb the North Wall." Wow! 2) Maurice Wilson: Mastered a plan to be the first to summit Mount Everest after also becoming the first to crash a plane on it. 3) Earl Denman: This "Romantic Heart" never summated Everest, but his friend Tenzing Norgay did - wearing Earl's red balaclava. "...at least a little part of him has reached his goal," reflected Tenzing. 4) Guy, Johnny, Bill Waterman: A man and his sons; three climbing men fated for separate and sad declines. Excepting "The Wickedest..." for my sensitive heart, this collection is an excellent look into the minds of our foremost heroes and retreating idiots. Let us not forget them, but for God's sake, let us not emulate them. Ignore the cover art