I live within a couple miles of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia, and I have toyed with day hikes and weekend treks up and down the trail near home, so I picked up this book to glimpse the musings of Bill Bryson on the experience of doing the whole trail.

I've been somewhat drawn to Bryson for a while. Although I've never read any of his work, somehow I knew I would like his style. I did.

In a walk in the woods, Bryson manages to take you along with him and his burnt out buddy not just on a trail through some of the most rugged and beautiful terrain on earth, but on one of rediscovery (indeed, of initial discovery in some cases).

Apparently, Bryson authored the book shortly after returning from a 20-year stint in England, and so took the opportunity to refamiliarize himself with his native land.

His account of his trek up the American East's mountainous spine instills awe, dread, and touching affinity by turns.

Bill Bryson grew up in Des Moines, Iowa, spent time, as I mentioned, in England, and then settled in New Hampshire. It seems that if he knocked the dust from the soles of his writing style we would see there on the doormat evidence that each of his homes has left its mark. At times prosaic and rather wistful, his narrative is always instructive, and there is always--always--a jab of wit lying below the surface. Beware: do not take a sip of hot coffee while plunging into uncharted territory in this book. Some little witty retort will rear up and before you know it you're dancing around the room, batting at your shirt saying, "Hot, hot!"