Bill Bryson’s well-known travel book, “A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trial,” is about how Bryson executed his plan to hike the entire Appalachian trail. He had just returned from living in Europe and was looking for a way to reconnect with his country of origin.
2021 was a rough year for reading, which is uncharacteristic for me, but “A Walk in the Woods” was an easy book to read regardless of my critique of it. I like the idea of walking the trail, but would never do it so it fits into my living vicariously through a book preferences. It combines personal experiences, slice of life peak into neighborhoods surrounding the trail, a brief history of the development of the trail, a dash of true crime, ecological concerns, a microcosm of government and an unintentional anthropological glimpse into male platonic relationship dynamics. There is a little something for everyone, and the writing bobs and weaves between genres with ease.
“A Walk in the Woods” may turn off people because it is dated in many ways. While toxic masculinity would be an exaggeration, there is a normative masculinity that wafts through the personal account, which could be a turn off for some readers. It was written in the nineties when notions of what is male and female was stated in a more definitive way, and people reading it at the time probably would not notice the casual reinforcement of gender norms, but three decades later, it stands out. It did not bother me and added to the unintentional period preserved in amber feel to the book.
“A Walk in the Woods” is not timeless, but very much tied to not only a specific period, but one that feels nostalgic compared to the dystopia that we are living in now. Bryson starts with talking about camping good prices. He did not realize how good he had it. Murders on the trail seem quaint in retrospect because at this time, Bryson has not been inundated with images of mass shootings. There are no pandemics just people squeezed into a dry spot to shelter from inclement weather.
“A Walk in the Woods” is such a communal book, even when Bryson is walking by himself on the trail, there are people in the wings. His main walking buddy is Stephen Katz, which is a pseudonym, and the movie adaptation seems to be flattering in comparison, but is still a great foil for the author. I wanted to know how they got together and may read “Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe,” which is the first book that chronicles their journeys together. When Bryson travels by himself or with other partners, the narrative is not as dynamic though still interesting. They have an odd couple dynamic with Bryson as Felix and Katz as Oscar. Katz is alternately the comedic relief and the source of drama. He is an alcoholic, bon vivant and aspiring womanizer. Both men are out of shape, but Katz is full of vim and vigor then deflates when reality hits him on the trail; however he still says yes to the challenge. There are some hiccups in their relationship, and it is easy to get invested in the duo.
When solo, “A Walk in the Woods” focuses outward more, and Bryson gives us some of the most interesting sights on the trail whereas his partnered walks are more anthropological. Notable journeys are to Centralia, Pennsylvania, the site of a still burning coal seam fire and inspiration to many a horror film. Another interesting moment is the zinc mined, devoid of vegetation mountain in Lehigh Valley. It is the only credible moment of human danger that Bryson faces from a zealous security guard. When he hits the Berkshires, an area which I have visited a couple of times, it felt completely foreign, and I began to entertain the idea of checking out the trail (absolutely not, I’m an urban hiker). Bryson deepened my superficial understanding of the region and helped me see it in a loftier, more historical resonant way. In contrast, Southerners did not appreciate his account of their region, which I did notice and probably confirms some unfortunate biases that I may share with Bryson, but slavery so let’s call it even.
Even though “A Walk in the Woods” was written prior to the internet, and Bryson said that he found this book extremely difficult to write, it is a masterclass in how to make a seemingly dry subject matter into an invigorating journey. He is deft at making citations seem like inviting rabbit holes instead of a perfunctory academic exercise so if you want to learn more about a subject, Bryson has left a breadcrumb of books for you to follow.
Even when Bryson does not go into depth about a subject, such as the unsolved murders of Julie Williams and Lollie Winans, he has a way of providing enough information that a curious reader can still conduct a Google search and learn more. (I may read Kathryn Miles; book, ‘Trailed,’ to learn more.) He was clueless for worrying that he was in danger since the killers usually go for women first, but it was a nice countercultural point that he did not consider himself invincible like many men.
“A Walk in the Woods” is an unofficial accounting of how age has made certain challenges in his life seem more daunting than if he was a younger man. There are many vignettes of younger men crossing a body of water with ease or a group of younger people being inconsiderate in the way that they inhabit a space. Alone Bryson is more contemplative and comparative about his place in the world—his physical limitations and the invisible link between him and civilization (his family, his home, his preferred society), which leads to an epiphany that he does not have to be a completist and hike the whole trail to say that he did. He is no longer existing for ephemeral, inadequate bragging rights, but the satisfaction, mindfulness and even spiritual practice of walking. Self-preservation is not just about not endangering your life, but a lifestyle.
I suggest that you not even bother with the film adaptation, which is a waste of time. If you loved the nineties, Appalachia, male relationships or hiking in nature, I highly recommend the “A Walk in the Woods.” There are no spooky stories other than fear of encountering bears, which is plenty frightening to me, so stick to TikTok for the cryptids. I may even check out more of Bryson’s stuff.
