The Masked Rider

I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect from a rock drummer’s travel memoir, but *The Masked Rider* floored me—not because it’s a ‘celebrity’ book, but because it’s a *writer’s* book. Peart’s prose is lean and muscular, and Sutherland’s narration sells it without overacting. There’s a scene early on where Peart describes outrunning a pack of stray dogs on his bike, and Sutherland’s delivery is so taut you’ll grip your steering wheel (or handlebars, if you’re listening mid-commute). The audiobook’s strength lies in its unvarnished details: the stench of open sewers, the surreal bureaucracy of African border crossings, the way Peart’s loneliness becomes a character itself. That said, this isn’t a book for everyone. Peart’s introspection can veer into naval-gazing—there’s a 20-minute stretch where he dissects his own privilege that, while necessary, drags the momentum. And Sutherland’s voice, though well-suited to Peart’s tone, occasionally flattens during the more philosophical passages; a touch more dynamism there might’ve helped. But the payoff is worth it. When Peart finally reaches his destination (no spoilers), the emotional weight lands because you’ve *felt* every mile with him. The production is clean, with no distracting edits, letting the story’s raw energy take center stage. If you like travel writing that’s more *Dark Star Safari* than *Eat, Pray, Love*, this is your ride.