A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail
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Soon to be a major motion picture starring Robert Redford and Nick Nolte.
The Appalachian Trail trail stretches from Georgia to Maine and covers some of the most breathtaking terrain in America–majestic mountains, silent forests, sparking lakes. If you’re going to take a hike, it’s probably the place to go. And Bill Bryson is surely the most entertaining guide you’ll find. He introduces us to the history and ecology of the trail and to some of the other hardy (or just foolhardy) folks he meets along the way–and a couple of bears. Already a classic, A Walk in the Woods will make you long for the great outdoors (or at least a comfortable chair to sit and read in).
of white hair; he was always available in his later years to say a few words at ceremonies on sunny hillsides. Avery, on the other hand, died in 1952, a quarter-century before MacKaye and when the trail was still little known. But it was really Avery's trail. He mapped it out, bullied and cajoled clubs into producing volunteer crews, and personally superintended the construction of hundreds of miles of path. He extended its planned length from 1,200 miles to well over 2,000, and before it was
"You're lucky you haven't froze yet. You should go back and like punch out the guy that sold it to you because he's been like, you know, negligible selling you that." "Believe me, it is a three-season tent." She unblocked her ears and shook her head impatiently. "That's a three-season tent." She indicated Katz's tent. "That's exactly the same tent." She glanced at it again. "Whatever. How many miles did you do today?" "About ten." Actually we had done eight point four, but this had included
understand, but I expect it'll be about twenty bucks, something like that. What do you wanna go to Ernestville for anyway?" I explained about Spivey Gap and the AT. "Appalachian Trail? You must be a danged fool. What time you wanna go?" "I don't know. How about now?" "Where y'at?" I told him the name of the motel. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen minutes at the outside. If I'm not there in twenty minutes, then go on ahead without me and I'll meet you at Ernestville." He hung up. We
Cabin, the oldest shelter on the AT and possibly the most sweetly picturesque (soon afterwards it was torn down by some foolishly unsentimental trail officials), and the town of Norwich, which is notable principally for being the town that inspired the "Bob Newhart Show" on television (the one where he ran an inn and all the locals were charmingly imbecilic) and for being the home of the great Alden Partridge, of whom no one has ever heard. Partridge was born in Norwich in 1755 and was a demon
unattended. Little percussive hisses of music were leaking from his ears. "Aren't you packing?" I said. "Yeah." I waited a minute, thinking he would bound up, but he didn't move. "Forgive me, Stephen, but you give the impression that you are lying down." "Yeah." "Can you actually hear what I'm saying?" "Yeah, in a minute." I sighed and went back down to the basement. Katz said little during dinner and afterwards returned to his room. We heard nothing more from him throughout the evening,