It’s a wonder that Starting Out in the Afternoon, a set of diary entries about working through a mid-life crisis in the north country, ever got published. Creative writing instructors the world over rightfully warn neophytes not to bother submitting their personal journals to publishers, especially if their life is not tied into a historical episode or media event. Thankfully, Jill Frayne’s well-crafted, tough-minded recounting of her voyage out and then inward overcame such obstacles.

There is none of the Utopian escapism and woolly self-deception that usually blights “me in the barrens” writing. Frayne bravely sizes herself up – her unsatisfactory relationships, her aging body and angry soul – in what she calls the “continent’s last places,” the few pockets of the Pacific Northwest and Arctic where nature reigns, if not supreme, then at least still dominant.

The title cleverly echoes that of the classic pre-Kerouac roadie As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning, Laurie Lee’s picaresque tales of travelling in pastoral Andalucia. But as the differing times of day indicate, Frayne is older and not so happy-go-lucky as the troubador violinist Lee. Her chosen country is also more autumnal, a far less green and pleasant land. But for all the differences in time and place, both manage what the best travel writing must do: they artfully evoke parallel physical and spiritual journeys.

Frayne’s best writing comes in the book’s first section, a kayak trip through the Queen Charlotte Islands. Her metaphors enrich the journey and her personal reflections give the shock of recognition that hard-won truths can bring. Unfortunately, the book dries up a bit as Frayne retreats to the land. She has an unsatisfying fling in the Yukon and a true love affair with the mountain-locked northern B.C. town Atlin, but she never quite reaches the passionate engagement she achieved on the sea.