The best way to escape to nature
Get outta town!
That trite phrase sprung to mind as I scanned the cover of
”
A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian
Trail.
”
Bill Bryson’s book is a great read, and when I set the book down
after turning over its last page Monday night, I was tempted to go
back to page 1 and do it again.
The best way to escape to nature
Get outta town!
That trite phrase sprung to mind as I scanned the cover of “A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail.”
Bill Bryson’s book is a great read, and when I set the book down after turning over its last page Monday night, I was tempted to go back to page 1 and do it again.
It’s the story of two middle-aged, out-of-shape men, old friends who had lost touch with one another as one sought to lose touch with reality through addiction before climbing out of his private hell. Together, they elect to go on The Grand Adventure together. They would walk the entirety of the Appalachian Trail, a 2,100-mile footpath that traces its way from northern Georgia to the top of Maine.
They didn’t make it.
But the story of their ill-fated slog is so entertaining that as one reads the book, anyone with the misfortune to sit nearby is quickly annoyed by the regular chuckles, even guffaws emitted by the otherwise silent reader.
The Appalachian Trail is the best known and longest established of the Big Three – the Appalachian, Continental Divide and Pacific Crest trails. Unlike its brethren, the Appalachian is relatively civilized, offering primitive shelters along its way, even as it veers frequently into small towns that feature diners offering food not cooked on a tiny backpacking stove, hot showers and motels with beds that have real sheets – nirvana to the long-haul walkers who seek to hike the length of the trail in one season.
That Bryson and his companion did not make it is no cause for shame. The vast majority of walkers who lace up their boots early in the Georgia spring never see the summit of Mount Katahdin – the trail’s end – in Maine.
Given the content of Bryson’s book, the cover blurb attributed to Christopher Lehmann-Haupt of the New York Times (Isn’t that the prototypical Times byline? Hyphen and everything!). Lehmann-Haupt’s comment struck me as so breathtakingly stupid that I could not turn to the front page of the book for a moment.
Of course, anyone who puts words together crafts a genuine clinker from time to time. Ask me how I know.
But I thought they had, like, editors at the New York Times?
Here it is, as printed on the cover of “A Walk in the Woods:” “The best way of escaping into nature is to read a book like ‘A Walk in the Woods’ … The reader is rarely anything but exhilarated.”
So weird I had to read it twice to see if I had gotten it right the first time. Perhaps Mr. Christopher Lehman-hyphen-Haupt does not get out of Manhattan very often, but even he must regret that sentence today.
The best way to experience nature is to read about somebody else experiencing nature in a book?
Now I love to read, and I usually throw a book or two into a pack whenever I head out. But to aver that the best way to escape into nature is by reading a book is like saying the best way to experience Tahiti is to take a warm bath. Perhaps the best way to experience the satisfaction of a good meal is to peer at diners through the windows of a fine restaurant.
The best way to escape into nature is to escape into nature!
And we are blessed with opportunities at every hand.
As Bryson recounted, nature does not brook foolishness and that’s part of its attraction.
News accounts this week told of an experienced diver who vanished on the Northern California coast. He was by himself, four miles offshore of a roadless coastline, diving in an area with strong currents. I hope this does not sound callous, but his disappearance seemed less of a shock than his safe return would have been.
A recent amble at Pinnacles National Monument displayed Darwinism at work, as visitors scrambled up cliff faces without benefit of safety equipment or training. Park staff were hunting for a group of youths who were making sport by chucking large rocks onto the crowded trail below. Some of our party had to leave the trail to give a rattlesnake basking there his due. The park staff performed three rescues that weekend.
I once left Yosemite Valley on a warm June day, clad in a T-shirt and shorts. After hiking to the top of Yosemite Falls and crossing the creek whose plunge launches them, I giggled at the signs that warn people not to swim in the creek just upstream of where it plunges into the waiting heavens. That the signs are thought necessary is further evidence of Darwinism.
Soon after, my smugness vanished, as I shivered in the foggy woods. Hypothermia kills more people in the outdoors than anything else, and my lack of preparation, my failure to pack even a light jacket, had me in the early stages.
But that’s seldom a problem in our backyards this time of year. Equipped with plenty of water, a light layer of extra clothing, the right shoes, something to eat and a map, experiencing nature first-hand is a delight available to anyone, and with a modicum of prudence, it’s not even particularly risky.
We can even pick our weather. Those craving clear skies and hot days can head to Pinnacles, while those wishing to walk in dampness and deep shade can head to the Forest of Nicene Marks, Big Basin or Henry Cowell, all in Santa Cruz County.
Sure, read “A Walk in the Woods” by all means. But first, please, take a walk.
Mark Paxton is publisher of The Pinnacle. His e-mail address is [email protected].
