The words that immediately came to, and subsequently stayed, in my brain throughout the entire existentialist joyride that was Drew Magary’s “The Hike” were “holy shit?” The first third of the novel, all on its own, cemented this book into my personal, red curtained, Top Ten Hall of Fame Forever list. At every turn of the page I’d nod cluelessly and murmur, “Of course, of course” and maniacally rush further into the unknown. A talking crab, supervising smoke monsters, and a big, red pickup truck. An affair, a conductor-less train, and a fight with god. A blistering final page that made my eyes well up like a stubbed toe. Open the faucet of your imagination and walk along with the staunchly perseverant narrator, maybe you’ll learn a little about yourself too.

I don’t fully understand the 1-starred “I just didn’t get it” reviews: this isn’t one you get, I gave up that goat real quick into the whole “a dude walks into the woods, reality breaks, and then nothing literally needed to make sense again” but then again, I am, quietly, always hoping to find a giant woman that wants to cook me in her cauldron.

5/5 Bizarrely brilliant. Turn your brain off, have a little fun, and remember not to leave the path.