As the daughter of a keen mountaineer I have always been aware of the dangers one faces when heading into the great outdoors. My dad, like any responsible outdoorsman, impressed on me the importance of being prepared for anything. In Aotearoa NZ this “everything” typically meant unpredictable weather conditions. We were taught to always taught to have warm and waterproof gear, to tell someone where you were going, and to have plenty of food and drink – just in case. One time we even went to practice digging snow caves in a wintery basin. Due to the snow conditions, my complaints of being freezing, and my dad’s potential rabies infection (a story for another time), this was an unsuccessful endeavour. All in all, my dad went above and beyond to ensure that my sister and I had at least basic wilderness survival skills. Nevertheless, had I found myself in Aron Ralston’s predicament I’m pretty confident I would have perished.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place is the story of experienced adventurer Aron and his battle with nature that cost him his arm, and almost his life. Having read ‘Touching the Void’ a couple of years ago, I figured that I had already conquered the most hair-raising outdoor survival story. Well, I was wrong; Between a Rock and Hard Place is every bit as suspenseful as Joe Simpson’s recounting of his experience in my opinion. One thing about first-hand (if you’ll pardon the pun) survival stories is that you know how it ends, at least in terms of the actual survival aspect – nobody’s writing their story from beyond the grave. For this reason the stories themselves have to be especially captivating to make them worth reading. There’s not going to be an oh-my-god-he-survived culmination at the end, so instead the story must elicit constant exclamations of, ‘oh-my-god, he survived that?’ throughout.

Between a Rock and Hard Place has no shortage of such moments. From the moment Aron is trapped, we know that this is about to be a harrowing ordeal, if only due to the amount of book that remains beyond that point. The move adaptation of Ralston’s book is also named 127 hours, so with that in mind we know we are in for one heck of a ride. Now, I will admit, about halfway through the book I had a brief moment of wondering if the account needed to be as long as it was. In comparison to Touching the Void’s 224 pages, Between a Rock and Hard Place is 130 pages longer – and the guy can’t move! In Ralston’s defense, not all of the page space is occupied with a minute-by-minute recount; he includes plenty of stories of some of his other previous adventures, and how they lead up to and influenced this experience. Additionally, I realised that the length of the book was in a way an homage to just how long Ralston had spent trapped under that chockstone. What I’m trying to say is that the book is not boring by any means, the length is of course justified, and this was actually just a case of me being eager to get to the crux of the matter – I wanted the details of the bid for freedom! At this point I did have to pull my head in a little – “if you’re keen for him to be free imagine how Aron, the person who actually lived through this ordeal, felt”, I said to myself. After a quick moment of self-admonishment I resolved to shut up and read a bit quicker. Also, among the fleeting thoughts of “c’mon man just cut your arm off already!” it helped to remind myself that, in the same position, I would likely have passed within about 24 hours in the slot, probably after crying myself to death.

I digress. The point I want to make is that this is a book for anyone to enjoy – no matter your hiking, climbing, or canyoneering experience. The language throughout is not too technical, and Ralston tells the story from a wholly human perspective. Despite his incredible achievements, the tone of the book is far from a story of a man who stoically cut his arm off and breezed out of the canyon. It is instead a relatable tale of a person in a desperate situation who was brave enough and smart enough to fight for his survival.

Despite my initial concerns, it is also easily readable for those of us who are squeamish. If you are particularly averse to descriptions of blood/self-surgery, I would suggest skimming or skipping the page of the actual amputation, however the remainder of the book is scant of overly grim details. I in fact found the worst part of the story the moments when he is detailing drinking his own sediment-filled urine, and that was mostly because it was gag-worthy and I’m quite a baby (hence aforementioned crying myself to death).

Ralston’s story, while clearly detailing a physical ordeal, is also a tribute to the man’s incredible mental strength. He not only survived coming face-to-face with his own demise, and amputating his own arm, he was then able to return to his life and turn his experience into something educational and inspirational. My favourite aspect of the book was in fact Ralston’s pondering upon something said to him by a friend “it’s not what you do, it’s who you are”. He realises in this slot canyon that what matters in life is not the peaks he has climbed or mountains he has skied, but the people who have accompanied him on each journey. It is a lesson relevant to us all, especially in a society so focused on accolades, awards, and accomplishments, even if it is a cliche one. On that note, I will leave you with a quote from the book that I will dwell upon for some time and, if you don’t read the book itself, then perhaps you can at least take the time to reflect on this too:

“Perhaps it’s time, I muse, to close those chapters and remember the enduring lesson of my entrapment: that relationships, not accomplishments, are what’s important in life.”