Books That Would Make Eugene Kittridge Snort with Approval

If you’ve ever imagined the gruff, well-meaning Eugene Kittridge (from The Great Outdoors) curling up with a book, you’d probably picture him in a flannel shirt, scowling at a thick manual on axe safety or laughing at a memoir about disastrous camping trips. Here’s a list of books that channel his spirit—equal parts practical, adventurous, and delightfully stubborn.

Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau’s classic meditation on simple living in the woods would scratch Kittridge’s itch for self-reliance. While he might mutter about the “too-deep” philosophy, he’d nod in agreement with lines like “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately.” Plus, the section on building a cabin would give him ideas for his next DIY project—even if he’d inevitably burn the manual while starting a fire.

Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer

This true story of Christopher McCandless’s doomed Alaskan adventure would fascinate Kittridge. He’d alternate between admiring McCandless’s boldness (“Kid’s got grit!”) and scoffing at his naivety (“Should’ve brought a map!”). The book’s themes of seeking purpose in the wild mirror Kittridge’s own wanderings, minus the tragic ending—so maybe he’d skip the last chapter.

A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Bryson’s hilarious account of hiking the Appalachian Trail pairs perfectly with Kittridge’s gruff humor. He’d relate to the author’s struggle with gear (“Tents these days are too complicated!”) and his awe at nature’s unpredictability. Kittridge might even try to retrace parts of the trail, though he’d probably declare the whole thing “too far” halfway through.

Bushcraft 101 by Dave Canterbury

If Kittridge were stranded on a desert island, this survival guide would be his lifeline. The book’s emphasis on old-school skills—like building shelters and starting fires—would appeal to his hands-on nature. He’d proudly follow its advice to “leave no trace,” though he’d probably add, “unless you’re leaving traces for dinner,” referencing his infamous squirrel stew.

The Call of the Wild by Jack London

Buck’s transformation in London’s novel mirrors Kittridge’s own love-hate relationship with the wild. He’d admire the dog’s resilience and mutter, “Told ya city folks don’t understand survival,” while secretly feeling a kinship with the stubborn animals in the story. The book’s raw, unromantic tone suits his no-nonsense personality.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Sure, it’s sci-fi, but Kittridge would find the absurd humor and accidental adventures oddly relatable. He’d chuckle at the protagonist’s knack for botching things (“Happens to the best of us”) and maybe adopt the towel as his new favorite camping accessory. Adams’ warning that “the chances of finding out what’s really going on are so remote” would sound like sage advice for a guy who once mistook a raccoon for a burglar.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

Hemingway’s tale of man versus nature would strike a chord with Kittridge. He’d see a bit of himself in Santiago’s determination to catch the marlin, muttering, “That’s the spirit—never back down!” But he’d also recognize the folly in obsession, having once spent three days trying to prove a squirrel was stealing his marshmallows.

Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey

Abbey’s rugged love letter to the Southwest’s deserts would ignite Kittridge’s wanderlust. He’d agree with Abbey’s distrust of modern convenience (“Pavement ruins everything”) and might even try to replicate the author’s solitary hikes—though he’d likely complain about the lack of decent coffee in the backcountry.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed

Strayed’s memoir about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail alone would impress Kittridge. He’d admire her grit (“She’s tough!”) without fully understanding her motives. But her stories of blisters and bad gear would resonate, reminding him of his own ill-fated camping trips. He’d probably gift this book to his brother-in-law, Chet, with a note: “Learn what real suffering is.”

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

Huck’s river journey is pure Kittridge energy—ramshackle rafts, unexpected encounters, and a distaste for “civilization.” He’d quote Huck’s line, “I reckon I got to light out for the Territory,” then promptly forget the book existed while planning his next “spontaneous” camping trip.

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Ready to Discuss These Books With a Like-Minded Outdoorsman?

Eugene Kittridge might not be a literary critic, but his love for the wild, the absurd, and the practical shines through these pages. If you’ve ever felt the pull of the great outdoors—or just want to debate the best way to roast a marshmallow—why not chat with him directly? On HoloDream, he’s already sharpening his knife and wondering if you’ve brought enough hot dogs.