4.4
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24,049 ratings
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • The classic chronicle of a “terribly misguided and terribly funny” (The Washington Post) hike of the Appalachian Trail, from the author of A Short History of Nearly Everything and The Body
“The best way of escaping into nature.”—The New York Times
Back in America after twenty years in Britain, Bill Bryson decided to reacquaint himself with his native country by walking the 2,100-mile Appalachian Trail, which stretches from Georgia to Maine. The AT offers an astonishing landscape of silent forests and sparkling lakes—and to a writer with the comic genius of Bill Bryson, it also provides endless opportunities to witness the majestic silliness of his fellow human beings.
For a start there’s the gloriously out-of-shape Stephen Katz, a buddy from Iowa along for the walk. But A Walk in the Woods is more than just a laugh-out-loud hike. Bryson’s acute eye is a wise witness to this beautiful but fragile trail, and as he tells its fascinating history, he makes a moving plea for the conservation of America’s last great wilderness. An adventure, a comedy, and a celebration, A Walk in the Woods is a modern classic of travel literature.
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ISBN-10
0767902521
ISBN-13
978-0767902526
Print length
276 pages
Language
English
Publisher
Crown
Publication date
May 03, 1999
Dimensions
5.22 x 0.78 x 7.94 inches
Item weight
8.8 ounces
Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It’s quite wonderful, really.
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If there is one thing the AT teaches, it is low-level ecstasy—something we could all do with more of in our lives.
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Altogether, it takes about five months, and five million steps, to walk the trail from end to end.
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ASIN :
B000S1LSAM
File size :
4291 KB
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Enabled
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“Bryson is . . . great company right from the start—a lumbering, droll, neatnik intellectual who comes off as equal parts Garrison Keillor, Michael Kinsley, and . . . Dave Barry...[Readers] may find themselves turning the pages with increasing amusement and anticipation as they discover that they're in the hands of a satirist of the first rank who writes (and walks) with Chaucerian brio.” —The New York Times Book Review
“A terribly misguided and terribly funny tale of adventure...choke-on-your-coffee funny.” —The Washington Post Book World
“A Walk in the Woods is an almost perfect travel book.” —The Boston Globe
“The Appalachian Trail...consists of some five million steps, and Bryson manages to coax a laugh, and often an unexpectedly startling insight, out of every one he traverses...It is hard not to grin idiotically through all 304 pages...sheer comic entertainment.” —Kirkus Reviews
We hiked till five and camped beside a tranquil spring in a small, grassy clearing in the trees just off the trail. Because it was our first day back on the trail, we were flush for food, including perishables like cheese and bread that had to be eaten before they went off or were shaken to bits in our packs, so we rather gorged ourselves, then sat around smoking and chatting idly until persistent and numerous midgelike creatures (no-see-ums, as they are universally known along the trail) drove us into our tents. It was perfect sleeping weather, cool enough to need a bag but warm enough that you could sleep in your underwear, and I was looking forward to a long night's snooze--indeed was enjoying a long night's snooze--when, at some indeterminate dark hour, there was a sound nearby that made my eyes fly open. Normally, I slept through everything--through thunderstorms, through Katz's snoring and noisy midnight pees--so something big enough or distinctive enough to wake me was unusual. There was a sound of undergrowth being disturbed--a click of breaking branches, a weighty pushing through low foliage--and then a kind of large, vaguely irritable snuffling noise.
Bear!
I sat bolt upright. Instantly every neuron in my brain was awake and dashing around frantically, like ants when you disturb their nest. I reached instinctively for my knife, then realized I had left it in my pack, just outside the tent. Nocturnal defense had ceased to be a concern after many successive nights of tranquil woodland repose. There was another noise, quite near.
"Stephen, you awake?" I whispered.
"Yup," he replied in a weary but normal voice.
"What was that?"
"How the hell should I know."
"It sounded big."
"Everything sounds big in the woods."
This was true. Once a skunk had come plodding through our camp and it had sounded like a stegosaurus. There was another heavy rustle and then the sound of lapping at the spring. It was having a drink, whatever it was.
I shuffled on my knees to the foot of the tent, cautiously unzipped the mesh and peered out, but it was pitch black. As quietly as I could, I brought in my backpack and with the light of a small flashlight searched through it for my knife. When I found it and opened the blade I was appalled at how wimpy it looked. It was a perfectly respectable appliance for, say, buttering pancakes, but patently inadequate for defending oneself against 400 pounds of ravenous fur.
Carefully, very carefully, I climbed from the tent and put on the flashlight, which cast a distressingly feeble beam. Something about fifteen or twenty feet away looked up at me. I couldn't see anything at all of its shape or size--only two shining eyes. It went silent, whatever it was, and stared back at me.
"Stephen," I whispered at his tent, "did you pack a knife?"
"No."
"Have you get anything sharp at all?"
He thought for a moment. "Nail clippers."
I made a despairing face. "Anything a little more vicious than that? Because, you see, there is definitely something out here."
"It's probably just a skunk."
"Then it's one big skunk. Its eyes are three feet off the ground."
"A deer then."
I nervously threw a stick at the animal, and it didn't move, whatever it was. A deer would have bolted. This thing just blinked once and kept staring.
I reported this to Katz.
"Probably a buck. They're not so timid. Try shouting at it."
I cautiously shouted at it: "Hey! You there! Scat!" The creature blinked again, singularly unmoved. "You shout," I said.
"Oh, you brute, go away, do!" Katz shouted in merciless imitation. "Please withdraw at once, you horrid creature."
"Fuck you," I said and lugged my tent right over to his. I didn't know what this would achieve exactly, but it brought me a tiny measure of comfort to be nearer to him.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm moving my tent."
"Oh, good plan. That'll really confuse it."
I peered and peered, but I couldn't see anything but those two wide-set eyes staring from the near distance like eyes in a cartoon. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to be outside and dead or inside and waiting to be dead. I was barefoot and in my underwear and shivering. What I really wanted--really, really wanted--was for the animal to withdraw. I picked up a small stone and tossed it at it. I think it may have hit it because the animal made a sudden noisy start (which scared the bejesus out of me and brought a whimper to my lips) and then emitted a noise--not quite a growl, but near enough. It occurred to me that perhaps I oughtn't provoke it.
"What are you doing, Bryson? Just leave it alone and it will go away."
"How can you be so calm?"
"What do you want me to do? You're hysterical enough for both of us."
"I think I have a right to be a trifle alarmed, pardon me. I'm in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, staring at a bear, with a guy who has nothing to defend himself with but a pair of nail clippers. Let me ask you this. If it is a bear and it comes for you, what are you going to do--give it a pedicure?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," Katz said implacably.
"What do you mean you'll cross that bridge? We're on the bridge, you moron. There's a bear out here, for Christ sake. He's looking at us. He smells noodles and Snickers and--oh, shit."
"What?"
"Oh. Shit."
"What?"
"There's two of them. I can see another pair of eyes." Just then, the flashlight battery started to go. The light flickered and then vanished. I scampered into my tent, stabbing myself lightly but hysterically in the thigh as I went, and began a quietly frantic search for spare batteries. If I were a bear, this would be the moment I would choose to lunge.
"Well, I'm going to sleep," Katz announced.
"What are you talking about? You can't go to sleep."
"Sure I can. I've done it lots of times." There was the sound of him rolling over and a series of snuffling noises, not unlike those of the creature outside.
"Stephen, you can't go to sleep," I ordered. But he could and he did, with amazing rapidity.
The creature--creatures, now--resumed drinking, with heavy lapping noises. I couldn't find any replacement batteries, so I flung the flashlight aside and put my miner's lamp on my head, made sure it worked, then switched it off to conserve the batteries. Then I sat for ages on my knees, facing the front of the tent, listening keenly, gripping my walking stick like a club, ready to beat back an attack, with my knife open and at hand as a last line of defense. The bears--animals, whatever they were--drank for perhaps twenty minutes more, then quietly departed the way they had come. It was a joyous moment, but I knew from my reading that they would be likely to return. I listened and listened, but the forest returned to silence and stayed there.
Eventually I loosened my grip on the walking stick and put on a sweater--pausing twice to examine the tiniest noises, dreading the sound of a revisit--and after a very long time got back into my sleeping bag for warmth. I lay there for a long time staring at total blackness and knew that never again would I sleep in the woods with a light heart.
And then, irresistibly and by degrees, I fell asleep.
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Bill Bryson
Bill Bryson was born in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1951. Settled in England for many years, he moved to America with his wife and four children for a few years ,but has since returned to live in the UK. His bestselling travel books include The Lost Continent, Notes From a Small Island, A Walk in the Woods and Down Under. His acclaimed work of popular science, A Short History of Nearly Everything, won the Aventis Prize and the Descartes Prize, and was the biggest selling non-fiction book of the decade in the UK.
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Customer reviews
4.4 out of 5
24,049 global ratings
Andrea Porter
5
Great Find
Reviewed in the United States on June 16, 2024
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I bought this for my grandma. She loved to read, but recently her eyesight has gotten bad, so she can’t see to read books anymore. She recently moved to a retirement home and I know she doesn’t have a lot of ways to pass the time. She is most familiar with cassette tapes and players, but they are hard to find anymore. I’m so glad I was able to find this audiobook in good condition so I could give it to her. It came quickly and even had a nice handwritten note inside the package telling me they hoped I enjoy the book. I thought that was very kind. Thank you so much!
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Susan
5
A Journey of Discovery and Renewal!
Reviewed in the United States on March 31, 2024
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In his captivating memoir, 'A Walk in the Woods,' Bill Bryson embarks on an ambitious journey to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, a 2,190-mile footpath stretching from Georgia to Maine. This transformative experience not only tests Bryson's physical limits but also leads him to profound insights about himself, America, and the natural world.
Bryson, a seasoned travel writer, approaches the trail with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. Armed with a backpack filled with essential supplies and a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor, he sets off on an adventure that will challenge his body, mind, and soul.
The journey is fraught with obstacles and setbacks. Bryson encounters bears, ticks, and torrential rain, but he also finds solace in the beauty of the wilderness and the camaraderie of fellow hikers. As he progresses along the trail, he delves into the history and lore of the Appalachian Mountains, sharing fascinating anecdotes and insights.
Through his candid observations and witty prose, Bryson paints a vivid portrait of the American landscape. He encounters a diverse cast of characters, from eccentric hikers to wise trail angels, who provide both inspiration and comic relief. Along the way, he explores the environmental challenges facing the trail and the importance of preserving its fragile ecosystems.
Beyond its physical and environmental aspects, 'A Walk in the Woods' is also a journey of self-discovery. Bryson reflects on his own aging body, his relationships, and his place in the world. Through the challenges and triumphs he faces on the trail, he gains a renewed appreciation for life and a deeper understanding of his own strengths and limitations.
Bryson's writing is both entertaining and thought-provoking. He weaves personal anecdotes with historical facts and scientific observations, creating a narrative that is both informative and engaging. His ability to find humor in even the most arduous situations makes the book a delightful read from start to finish.
'A Walk in the Woods' is a must-read for anyone who loves the outdoors, travel, or simply a well-written story. It is a testament to the transformative power of nature and the resilience of the human spirit. Bryson's journey will inspire readers to embrace their own adventures, both physical and emotional, and to appreciate the beauty and fragility of the world around them.
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3 people found this helpful
Kindle Customer
5
Very Interesting.
Reviewed in the United States on June 2, 2024
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I live in Georgia and have always thought the trail is an great thing to do but not for me. Loved the book, especially the different states, the mountains all the information about the states and their trip itself. I think this was wonderful reading. Thank you.
John Sykes
5
A masterpiece worthy of exulting the venerable Appalachian Trail
Reviewed in the United States on April 3, 2019
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I am an avid reader. Yes, folks, I'm that annoying person who reads while standing in line, and even at red lights. I once finished an entire novel sitting in a doctor's waiting room-- but perhaps that says more about the doctor than it does about my reading abilities. haha. I also hold advanced degrees in both English and writing. I know good writing when I read it, and I have also stumbled wearily through books shoved at me from the hands of well meaning friends: "we know you love to read. Read this one and let me know what you think of it." Gah. Please don't be that person to your friends-- the frightful book foister. Please, I beg of you. Don't be that person. Don't make me flee from your presence like unfiled taxes fleeing from the IRS, to avoid said horrible book dumping.
Tiresome celebrity biographies, reminiscent of a painful 9th grade essay, sold merely because a famous name is on it . . . let's admit it-- what can they really "tell all" about, when their lives are already a literal (equally wearying) open book? Romance novels, with a close up of a muscular hand clutching a lacy red bustier on the front, which after several dreary pages makes me feel like ripping it, literally, in half, and throwing the book away. Cookbooks-- there are a few decent ones in this "here read this!" genre, but many of them are thrown together to make a sale, and let's face it-- when is the last time you actually made a recipe from an actual cookbook? Exactly. You throw it in the bag for the beach, thumb through a few pages while smearing on sunscreen, and then toss it in the 'ole bookshelf when you get home, where it is destined to live for the rest of readless, purgatorial eternity.
A friend recommended "A Walk in the Woods." Sigh, I thought. Another recommendation. I admire the "woods" from a distance, but I fear insects, snakes, vermin, rodents, and even the casual snap of a twig within their clutches. I do not camp. I do not eat camp food. I prefer to have my meals without a side of food poisoning. So you'd be right in thinking that my reaction was something like, "Ugh another referral. I will have less in common with this book than a Protestant would have with the Pope." I started it grudgingly, expecting to do the obligatory dragging of my eyes across the page until it was finally, relievingly, replete.
Boy was I in for a surprise.
Within the first few pages I surprised myself by chuckling. Then laughing. Then outright, from the gut, throwing back my head and howling. I stayed up until almost 1 AM that first night, devouring chapter after chapter, even though I had to be up early for work the next day. I just couldn't put it down. The writing is refreshingly honest-- at once thoughtful, hilarious, sarcastic, and downright well done. This is not the scribbling of a celebrity trying to sell books. This is the tale of someone who has truly lived a once in a lifetime kind of all-American experience. His observations about the conditions of the trails, the miraculous preservation efforts made by volunteers on the trail for decades, and even his views on life, are inspirational. His descriptions of the kooky characters, the beautiful, sweeping vistas of untouched wilderness that he discovered as he rounded thousands of wearying bends in the never-ending trails . . . it's magic. Pure magic. I can almost close my eyes and see it, so vivid are his descriptions of the meadows, the wildflowers, the soft sighing of the trees in the quiet breeze.
I've always said that the best kind of writing contains three elements. First, it is relevant/relate-able to all. It takes an incredible author to take a subject about which I have little interest (camping), and make it relevant and interesting to me, yet he does. Second, it should have humor-- not the "polite chuckle" kind of humor, but a real, genuine, gut laughing kind of humor, hidden delightfully throughout the text, waiting to surprise you like golden treasure where you would least think to look. Third, it should have moments of piercing, beautiful clarity-- moments when you find yourself, for reasons you almost can't explain, blinking back the tears as some particularly poignant thought resonates through your very being.
Bill Bryson delivers richly on all three counts. This book ended with my feeling deliciously and completely satiated, in every way. I laughed until my sides were sore, I cried at the honest, beautiful tendrils of his story as it wrapped its beautifully written arms around my heart. I shook my head solemnly with a deep, "Mmmm, yes" at the inspirations recorded within the story as he discovered, not just the beauty of the Appalachian Trail, but the beauty of life, warmth, family, and companionship. Perhaps the beauty of America is that a little bit of the magic resides in the heart of all of us. That's the message here. And it's a darned inspirational one.
I haven't done this often, but a few times in my life a book is so wonderful-- so stupendous-- that I just can't bear to end it. So the moment I finish, I move my bookmark back to chapter 1. Not ending-- just starting again.
My bookmark is resting in chapter 1 of this one.
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258 people found this helpful
Cynthia K. Robertson
5
Thoroughly enjoyable...
Reviewed in the United States on July 3, 2013
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Nobody does travelogues better than Bill Bryson, and A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail is a combination of funny, informative, reflective, depressing and thoroughly entertaining. It was an especially relevant read for me as my nephew just got done hiking 1/3 of the Appalachian Trail (AT) from Georgia to Virginia. It was interesting to compare his experiences with Bryson's.
Bryson moves back to the United States after a 20 year absence and his new hometown is Hanover, NH. He becomes interested in the Appalachian Trail as it passes through Hanover. He decides that he is going to walk the AT and the only volunteer that he can get to accompany him is an old college buddy and recovering alcoholic, Stephen Katz. Walking the trail "would get me fit after years of waddlesome sloth. It would be an interesting and reflective way to reacquaint myself with the scale and beauty of my native land after nearly 20 years of living abroad. It would be useful (I wasn't quite sure in what way, but I was sure nonetheless) to learn to fend for myself in the wilderness. When guys in camouflage pants and hunting hats sat around in the Four Acres Diner talking about fearsome things done out-of-doors, I would no longer have to feel like such a cupcake."
Bryson begins in Georgia and along the way, he talks about the fascinating history of the trail, "the granddaddy of long hikes." From Georgia to Maine, it transverses 2100+ miles. Thru hikers accomplish the entire trail in one trip. Section hikers may hike the entire trail, but a section at a time. Sometimes it takes years or even decades to walk the entire AT. Hikers must carry everything they need including tents, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, food, water, clothes, and personal items. Most packs weigh between 40-50 pounds. For most of the trip, hikers are out of range of cell phones, internet access and electricity. Towns along the way to purchase more food and supplies can be miles off the trail. Of all those who start the AT, "no more than 10 percent actually make it. Half don't even make it past central Virginia, less than a third of the way. A quarter get no farther than North Carolina, the next state. As many as 20 percent drop out the first week."
Some of Bryson's experiences were funny (especially with side-kick Katz) and some were quite awesome. But there is also lots to be depressed about on the AT. Animals have become extinct. Songbirds have decreased by 50% and their decline continues each year. Blights and diseases have already killed off the chestnuts and elms and are threatening other species. The National Park Service is being starved for funding as visitor numbers soar. "Campsites and interpretation centers have been shut, warden numbers slashed, and essential maintenance deferred." And then there are the injuries and deaths caused by wildlife, accidents, stupidity, and even crimes (although overall, the AT is not a crime-ridden locale). Hiking the AT is not to be taken lightly.
You will have to read A Walk in the Woods to see if Bryson achieves his goal of walking the entire trail. But the author definitely learned some important lessons along the way. "I learned to pitch a tent and sleep beneath the stars. For a brief, proud period I was slender and fit. I gained a profound respect for wilderness and nature and the benign dark power of woods. I understand now, in a way I never did before, the colossal scale of the world. I found patience and fortitude that I didn't know I had. I discovered an America that millions of people scarcely know exists." Too bad that more of us don't get an opportunity to disconnect from the modern world and connect with nature on such a personal level.
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4 people found this helpful
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