Hello dear readers. Why haven't I written in so long you ask? Well, because I've been doing what book borrowers do best: reading.
I was in my mom's car with her and my step-dad when I finished my latest book,
A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail by
Bill Bryson. It was early Saturday morning and I was stretched out on the back seat languidly, coffee tumbler in one hand and book in the other. There were only a few pages left and I was scrambling to finish as if I were reading a whodunit rather than a travel memoir of Bryson's attempt to hike the
AT. When I finished, I sat up straight and sighed, feeling every ounce of that good-book-afterglow wash over me like a hot shower. I relish those moments afterward too; those seconds or maybe minutes before your mind begins to completely process how you feel about what you've read. Lingering questions, doubts or abstract ponderings come forth, but then eventually it vanishes. The sanctity of the glow is behind you and now you've already moved on to the next thing.
I do it, too; everyone does. For me, on that Saturday, what interrupted my afterglow was the end of the car ride with my parents. As serendipity would have it, we were about to set off on our own hike in the woods.
Now, just to be clear, my family isn't exactly what you would call outdoorsy. Sure, we shop at REI and own a Subaru, but my mom also believes in comfort and would usually rather experience nature from the comfort of her favorite chair with a margarita in hand. Still, she loves a good walk and showing off her schmancy hiking boots, so we set off to make a good morning of walking.
Similar to us Deans, Bryson was no outdoorsman before he began his ambitious pledge to hike the AT. In fact, he makes much out of the fact that he was much more out-of-shape and perhaps even less motivated. However, once he had the idea in his head to walk the 2,000 plus miles and record his journey, that was that. But his best decision wasn't simply to complete the great trek across 14 states, but rather to enlist the companionship of a man named Stephen Katz (to whom the book is dedicated). Katz is even more gloriously unfit that Bryson, bombastic and addicted to Twinkies; yet, his one talent is in concocting rather colorful and largely offensive turns of phrase. Even if Bryson wasn't as clever a writer or as funny a human being,
A Walk in the Woods would still be an enjoyable read just because you would have experienced the hilarity that ensues whenever Katz is around.
But, lucky for us, Bryson has an innate ability to craft gorgeous sentences that also have a natural authenticity about them. He never fakes anything. Sometimes he writes how he loathes nature, the idea of bear attacks or always smelling like an old wet garbage after a long day's hike. Other times, he is overwhelmed by the beauty of his surroundings and the fact that so few Americans experience the AT. Either way, what he feels you also feel as the reader. Every step and decision of his journey become yours as well. By the end of the book, you almost believe that you've walked the trail alongside Bryson and Katz. The details, imagery and sheer comedy embedded within each chapter could hardly leave any reader feeling anything less.
Most importantly though, Bryson allows the reader to develop a keen understanding of his most important character: the Appalachian Trail, itself. Never again will you feel the same way about a stretch of American land as you will after thumbing through the final pages of Bryson's field guide. Although Bryson and Katz decide not to finish walking the trail, that isn't critical to one's experience about the book. Bryson makes clear that the point was never just to finish hiking the AT, but to begin hiking it at all. The journey they did complete was what mattered to both Katz and Bryson and what, in the end, will matter most to readers.
We hiked only about three miles the day I finished this book. During the walk, as short as it was, I couldn't help but be pleased with myself. The irony of the situation was ideal and the time my family spent together was nothing short of spectacular. Together, we grunted and groaned up steep hills, squealed whenever we caught sight of a particularly colorful mushroom and laughed while mocking those hikers or runners who were in annoyingly good shape. All in all, it was a perfect day.
What I continue to discover is that there are few things in life more satisfying than an unpretentious book; its simple comfort and unspoiled purity run through it like sap in an old birch tree. Bryson's
A Walk in the Woods is just such a book. So, go ahead and give Bryson's travel writing a try, dear readers; you won't be disappointed.
