A Walk in the Woods

written by Bill Bryson

There are few books that appeal to me enough that I read them multiple times. This is one of them. I think I've had a copy of A Walk in the Woods on my bookshelf since 1999 — not the same copy all that time, mind you, because I keep giving this book away and re-buying it. It's that good.

I know you're probably thinking that, since I kind of have a thing for hiking, any book about the Appalachian Trail would earn a permanent spot in my library. Not so. In fact, the only other AT book I own is the austere but sensible Appalachian Trail Data Book which, in 74 pages (each crammed with five narrow columns of 6-pt. font), lists every shelter, water source, road crossing, campsite, and other point of note along the 2200-mile Trail. Helpful, but not exactly something you keep on your nightstand for pleasure reading.

In the category of more prose-y AT books, there are lots of titles out there, and trust me, most of them aren't worth hanging onto — reason being, they're written by hikers who decide to try their hand at writing. Bill Bryson, on the other hand, is a writer who decides to try his hand at hiking. The result is a wonderfully easy read that gives you a taste of what it's like for an ordinary joe to attempt a very big hiking trip.

I hadn't read the book in a while but picked it up again earlier this summer, after returning from a seven-day hike on the Appalachian Trail through Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I was prompted to re-read it — this was probably my third or fourth time — because while hiking through Newfound Gap, another hiker remarked to me, "Hey, now we can say we've made it further than Bryson did." (Bryson abandoned his lofty ambition of "thru-hiking" the 2200-mile trail after the first few hundred miles.) Since the story details a lot of Bryson's impressions of the very section of the trail I had just finished, I really wanted to go back and compare his experience with mine.

The book tells of how Bryson first learns of the trail ("Not long after I moved to New Hampshire I happened upon a path that vanished into a wood on the edge of town..."), how he enlists the companionship of the wayward but loveable and out-of-shape Stephen Katz, and their colorful experiences as they seek to conquer "the granddaddy of long hikes."

Not-so-cool elements:

• Some AT purists out there would have you believe that since Bryson aborted mission after the first few hundred miles, he's a complete failure who has no business telling others what it's like to hike the Trail. These same people are usually the ones who also lose sleep over the fact that Katz commits the indecent act of unashamedly littering in the wild by flinging coffee filters, brown sugar, cheese, peanuts, and Spam into the woods in a desperate attempt to lighten his backpack. And! Bryson commits the equally egregious act of recounting all this as a string of wildly humorous anecdotes. To anyone upset by this, I must just say: Come. On. People. Not that I at all condone the mistreatment of our environment, but please. Lighten up. It's a book. And the guy is trying to be funny.
• If you're looking for a blow-by-blow guidebook-style account of everything you'd encounter on the AT if you hiked from the top of Springer Mountain to Newfound Gap, this isn't it. Having hiked the same stretch that Bryson did, it's interesting to notice not only what Bryson chose to include in his book, but also what he chose to omit. I guess it's evidence that, as my friends on Whiteblaze are fond of saying, everyone's gotta hike their own hike.
• Bryson is very critical of the National Park system and their efforts at conservation. I found this a little off-putting, especially after spending a fair amount of time hiking alongside park service employees who have laid down their very lives to care for the woods and the trail.
• Bryson is none too complimentary of southern culture. Being a Yank myself, I have to admit that I share some of his prejudicial impressions. Just know that if you live south of Cincinatti, it's likely that you'll take offense at some of the jabs he makes.
• The cover of the book leads you to believe there's a great bear story here. There isn't. The first time I read the book, I kept waiting to get to the part about the bear, and it never came. That did bug me some.

Really cool elements:

• Even if you've never hiked a mile in your life, you'll enjoy this book because so much of it is more about the human experience than about hiking, or about the AT. While Bryson wittily describes his foray into the wilderness, he also gently and humorously opens up all kinds of sensitive topics, including conservation of our fragile environment, our astonishingly sedentary culture, friendship, and loyalty. Even alcoholism gets some air time in this book. There's a lot more here than just a funny travelogue.
• If you've never been out in the wild for days on end, away from creature comforts, or if you've ever casually wondered, "How would it be to subsist on dehydrated food and Power Bars while walking up and down mountains until my feet resemble hamburger," this book is a great low-risk method of exploring such things. Though Bryson, like any author, takes some artistic license in his storytelling, his account of the AT is, in my estimation, pretty true to life.
• I love books that are funny and easy to read but still have interesting story lines and concepts that stretch one to think a bit. Bryson's satiric wit and Dave-Barry-ish writing style make this feel like an easy read. But he inserts enough societal and relational issues that you feel like it's also a good-for-you kind of book.