Melanin Base Camp

I’ll admit, I approached *Melanin Base Camp* with skepticism. Another outdoorsy memoir promising diversity? Seen it. But Je Nie Fleming’s narration pulled me in within the first ten minutes. There’s a rhythm to her delivery that feels almost conversational—like Williams is leaning over a campfire, handing you a beer and saying, *‘Alright, let me tell you about the time I almost died base jumping in Utah.’* Fleming nails the humor, the frustration, and the quiet triumphs without overplaying any of them. The way she handles Williams’ more fiery passages, especially when calling out gatekeeping in outdoor culture, gives the book a teeth-and-nails energy that’s rare in this genre. That said, the audiobook’s structure occasionally trips over itself. Williams jumps between personal essays and broader social commentary, which works on the page but feels a little disjointed in audio form. A couple of transitions between stories lack the polish you’d expect from a 3-hour production, as if the editor hit *fade out* a beat too early. And while Fleming’s performance is stellar overall, there were moments—particularly during the book’s more introspective sections—where I wished she’d dialed back the vocal energy just enough to let Williams’ words breathe. Those are minor quibbles in an otherwise electrifying listen. If you’re tired of outdoor narratives that ignore the people who look like you, this audiobook will feel like a defiant fist pump. If you’re ready to confront your own biases about who belongs in nature, it’ll do that too.