Kris’s ex-wife and Sally both believed the “Man in Brazil” could be Kris (68). To confirm, Sally needed to know if he had a tattoo on his back, but Brazilian authorities could not provide this information. Sally declined an offer from a private investigator and instead contacted Morgan Clements, a Missouri mapmaker who had joined the Bring Kris Fowler/Sherpa Home Facebook group after his own 2016 PCT thru-hike was cut short by illness. Morgan ran GlobalIncidentMap.com—an OSINT resource—and offered to help Sally pro bono.

Morgan analyzed Kris’s digital footprint before his hike, discovering Kris had purchased the book Wanderer, was couch-surfing via Airbnb, and had researched agricultural laboring opportunities in Argentina and Brazil. Morgan investigated the Man in Brazil lead. A Brazilian thru-hiker from the 2016 Facebook group volunteered to visit the hospital with the American embassy. The Brazilian hiker confirmed the man had no back tattoo: He was not Kris. Authorities instead identified him as Anton Pilipa, a Canadian with schizophrenia missing since 2012. Anton’s brother, Stefan Pilipa, was notified. On January 7, 2017, Sally posted about the successful identification, which gave her hope that happy endings were possible. The Facebook group also brought negative experiences. A manipulative follower faked searching for Kris and requested expenses. Sally blocked him. Law enforcement monitored the group using a fictitious account. 

Stress affected Sally’s work and personal life, and, in February 2017, Mike Fowler developed vocal cord paralysis, later diagnosed as lung cancer. While Mike was hospitalized, he requested a visit from Sally’s stepmother, Sandy Guyton. After visiting Mike, Sandy was killed in a car accident, and Mike passed away shortly after. His last whispered words to Sally were “find him.” On June 22, 2017, doubly-bereaved, Sally announced Mike’s death on the Facebook group. Lankford writes that “a silent follower” who reacted to this post would soon become a “major player” in the search (78).

Five months later, a Washington police officer called to report that a human backbone had been found. A few days later, he confirmed the spine did not belong to Kris. In an interview, Sally explains to the author how such calls have become part of her surreal daily life. She states that her head believes Kris’s body is on the mountain, but her heart hopes he is alive somewhere, perhaps living in a commune.

In February 2017, 54-year-old Cathy Tarr received her PCT permit after two years of preparation. Days later, a car accident forced her to cancel the thru-hike. Cathy was resilient: She had lost her mother at age 10 and her father at 20, then built a successful corporate career before retiring early to travel. While recovering from her injury, she followed the search for Kris Fowler on Facebook.

In July 2017, Andrea Kirkman posted seeking volunteers for an August search for Kris near Blowout Mountain, based on a hunter’s claim that he saw Kris on October 22, 2016. Cathy drove from Arizona to join the search but grew skeptical of the bear hunter’s story, noting unlikely timelines and details. She tested her theory by asking fellow searchers to describe hikers they had just passed; they could not recall such specifics. After the search was unsuccessful, Cathy decided to stay in Washington and continue herself. There, Cathy met Morgan Clements, who had unsuccessfully searched Mount Rainier National Park’s Laughingwater Creek area for Kris. They traveled to Mazama and consulted with Carolyn “Ravensong” Burkhart, a legendary “trail angel.” Morgan was impressed with both women, dubbing Cathy “Tenacious.” 

After Cathy shared her conviction that the bear hunter’s story was false, Morgan discovered a Facebook photo showing the bear hunter at a football game on the same day he had claimed to see Kris near Blowout Mountain. Morgan sent a report to Sergeant Briscoe. Cathy pursued a new lead about backpacking gear spotted by a trail runner near Snoqualmie Pass. Morgan analyzed the description and determined previous searches had targeted the wrong location due to mismatched mile markers. In mid-October, Cathy and Laura Howson, another volunteer, used the one-day window before a snowstorm to search the correct area. They attempted the notoriously difficult Mineral Creek Trail but lost the path in the snow as daylight faded. Forced to turn back, Cathy was disheartened, knowing the 2017 search season was over. She posted on Kris’s Facebook page, vowing to return.

The author investigates Chris Sylvia’s disappearance by studying photographs of the 2015 trail register from Mike’s Place hostel. With Morgan Clements’s help, she interviews hikers who also signed the register around February 17, 2015. Jeffrey “Hatchet” Lewis reveals he found a pack on the trail around February 20-21, identified as Chris’s. Inside was Chris’s identification, one or two dollars, and seed packets, but no wallet, phone, toilet paper, mess kit, or canteen.

Hatchet had also seen a pair of Marine Digital camouflage pants and a copy of the novel Siddhartha in the hostel’s hiker box—a communal space where hikers leave unwanted items. Thinking they could be Chris’s, he had reported these findings to a sheriff’s deputy, but felt the officer was dismissive and did not understand their significance. Lankford confirms with Chris’s family and friends that these items were his.

Hoping to find the book, Lankford posts the specific Siddhartha cover on Facebook, and a 2015 thru-hiker, Jordan Babb, responds to say he now has it, after it changed hands several times. Babb mails the worn paperback to Lankford.

The author notes that both Kris Fowler and Chris Sylvia were reading books about characters who disappear or reject society. She inspects the copy of Siddhartha, finding markings which corroborate Chris’s ownership of it. Concluding that the police missed crucial evidence by dismissing Hatchet’s tip. Lankford contacts Detective Brian Patterson, who shows no interest in the discovery. She consults forensic DNA expert Dr. Monte Miller, who confirms the book could hold DNA evidence and advises on preservation. Cathy reads Siddhartha and speculates that Chris might still be alive, having apparently “walked away” from his possessions like the novel’s protagonist.

The author explains crucial search concepts: Point Last Seen (PLS) and Last Known Point (LKP). These differ, but both guide search planning. David O’Sullivan’s PLS was where hiker Beta passed him on April 3, 2017, but his LKP was Idyllwild, where he emailed his parents on April 6. The author explains that Cathy had educated herself on search theory using Robert Koester’s guide Lost Person Behavior, which suggested a 95% chance David was within 11 miles of Idyllwild. However, key evidence in the locality was missing or proved unhelpful.

In early November 2017, Cathy began searching with a retired homicide detective, whom Lankford doesn’t name. David’s parents arrived and discovered that David stayed at the Idyllwild Inn until April 7, a fact authorities had missed. Stephen Aherne of the Irish Outreach in San Diego offered 30 volunteers for a search. The detective opposed using amateur searchers and left after a disagreement with Cathy. The author speculates that his motives were romantic rather than altruistic.

Cathy arranged a TV interview for the O’Sullivans, boosting their Facebook group to 700 members. The author reflects on social media’s double-edged nature: New members often gave redundant advice or asked repetitive questions, and some Facebook trolls made Carmel O’Sullivan cry. Lankford hesitates to create a Facebook group for Chris Sylvia due to concerns that his unconventional family life might be negatively judged by strangers.

Lankford writes that Cathy’s empathy for the missing men’s mothers stemmed from fears when her son, Michael, briefly went missing during a hiking trip. Cathy faces resistance, delays, and bureaucratic obstacles from official agencies. Other volunteers like Sarah Francis and Jeanette Ragland join the effort, and, on November 18, 30 Irish Outreach volunteers arrive. Cathy gives safety protocols, instructing them to search with the care they would use for a loved one. The amateurs successfully clear a trail section, finding irrelevant items but proving their effectiveness. The Irish Outreach volunteers agree to return in December for another search.

Lankford describes how the mountains rise between the San Jacinto and San Andreas faults. From Idyllwild, two prominent rock formations—Suicide Rock and Tahquitz Rock—overlook the town. A Cahuilla legend warns that the demon Tahquitz kidnaps lone hikers and imprisons their souls in a glass cave.

Local mountaineer Jon King, known as “SanJacJon,” becomes a crucial information source for Cathy. His trail reports from late March 2017 warn of dangerous snow and ice on Fuller Ridge, recommending the alternate Black Mountain Road route. In the week before David disappeared, rescue teams had responded to a hiker who slipped off the Fuller Ridge traverse and another who walked off the trail near Saddle Junction. Thru-hiker Beta’s blog had documented the hazardous conditions he and others faced at the time.

Cathy and Jon conclude that David likely encountered trouble on Fuller Ridge or became lost at Saddle Junction, where five trail paths converge confusingly. The 2005 case of John Donovan, a PCT thru-hiker who died after getting lost at Saddle Junction, informs their strategy. Some volunteers give up.

Cathy establishes a search routine, operating from Hemet. She laminates missing person flyers, studies maps, and drives up Black Mountain Road each day to search. Martin Carew, an Irish Outreach volunteer from Dublin, joins her to search below Fuller Ridge. In late November, they search an area in high wind, splitting up to take parallel courses along the craggy slope. Martin gets lost as sunset approaches, and Cathy guides him back using text messages and photo analysis of his location. The incident makes Cathy wonder if David had crawled into a sheltered spot between rocks, making his body harder to find.

The author notes that the federal tracking of wilderness disappearances is inadequate. At least five hikers have vanished from the San Jacinto Mountains since the 1980s: Randy Spring, Joshua Best, David O’Sullivan, Ray Prifogle, and Melissa Lane. Statistics show solo men have higher fatality rates than solo women, yet women fear for their safety more. This phenomenon—the Fear-Gender Paradox—may explain why women behave more cautiously and survive better.

Cathy uses a Garmin inReach satellite messenger for safety on her searches. Morgan Clements tracks her movements remotely from Missouri, once warning her when she missed a trail fork and suggesting easier routes. During her 2017 search for Kris Fowler in Washington, Cathy sprains her knee near Spectacle Lake and uses the inReach to summon help. The device cost Cathy $450 plus a $100 annual fee, more than most thru-hikers could afford. Kris Fowler had a SPOT device but never paid the activation fee.

David O’Sullivan’s emails contain three selfies showing his clothes and appearance. Morgan and Cathy debate his expression—Morgan thinks he looks sad; Cathy thinks he looks happy. The photos help to rule out later clues around clothing.

Cathy seeks help from drone pilots. Gene Robinson of Texas EquuSearch educates her on drone search technology, explaining how pilots could review thousands of high-resolution images for clues. Robinson offers to help but discovers FAA regulations prevent him from flying drones in the federally restricted search area of the national park. He connects Cathy with pilot Gus Calderon and imaging expert Richard McCreight, who would conduct a legal high-altitude aerial survey. The O’Sullivans’ GoFundMe finances the operation.

On December 15, 2017, Calderon and McCreight fly over 56,000 acres, capturing 1,235 high-resolution images. The O’Sullivans fly to California for the event but have to return home without answers. The image quality is lower than hoped, and software analysis yields nothing relevant.

Cathy assembles volunteer “squinters”—people who manually review thousands of images—including Morgan, Lankford, Gloria Boyd, Aaron Samuel Wheeler, and Sarah Francis. Sally Fowler dubs them the “A-team.” The author enlists Dr. David Kipper to help analyze potential bone sightings. The process involves intense concentration, zooming, debating, and comparing older satellite images to rule out items. The tedious work yields abandoned cannabis farms, furniture, tarps, balloons, a bear, and a kite, but no sign of David. The repeated false leads exhaust everyone emotionally. Lankford loses faith in the technique, comparing it to “searching four thousand gravel pits for one marble” (139). Cathy and Morgan remain determined, hopeful that one image could break the case open.