Nothing But a Grumpy Old Man at 37
In early January I was browsing the new Barnes & Noble at the Danbury Mall. I found myself in the Travel section looking for something that might be inspiring to take on the road this year. Maybe share it with a fellow camper. Maybe I could find some interesting places to visit. Create some new adventures. Make some memories.
I stumbled on a book by the humorist author Bill Bryson. I’ve read two of his books. Most notably “A Walk in the Woods”, about his attempt at the Appalachian Trial. It was hysterical. Robert Redford made it into an okay movie. The other book was “The Body: A Guide for Occupants”. Not only a hilarious book, but an educational one as well. The book I picked up in B&N was “The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America”. What could be better for an RV trip. I was sure to find some nuggets of interest to visit on our travels, all while having a good laugh at Bryson’s dry, sardonic humor.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. In short, Bryson’s look at small-town America, in fact, pretty much all of America, is straight from the mouth of a grumpy old man. He was 37 when he took his travels in 1987/1988, and 38 when the book was first published in 1989. Yet he comes across as having complete disdain for everything American. He sounds twice his age, grumpy with arthritis, displaying an elitist attitude to everyone he meets. Granted, he’s lived in London most of his adult life, making him more English than American.
The first two-thirds of the of the book chronicle his trip through most of the lower 48 east of the Mississippi river. He travels from his birth state of Iowa south through Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi. Then east through the southern states to the Atlantic coast. From there he turns north and meanders his way north through the Atlantic states to New England. Then finally works his way back through upstate New York, Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and finally back to Iowa.
SkyDog and GR84RED have been through many of these same states and have uniquely enjoyed the sites, the history and the people. Bryson didn’t like any of it. He savagely mocked the people of the southern states calling them slow and fat. He made fun of the Amish in Lancaster County, PA. He describes Connecticut as “just one suburb”… really? He wanted Provincetown, MA, to “try a little harder to be charming”. It seemed everywhere he stopped he complained of “tourists”, fat in their Bermuda shorts with cameras hanging around their necks. Mind you, these comments are coming from an over-weight, 37-year-old, Expat.
In Maine, he finally turns back west through New Hampshire, Vermont and New York. For some reason he dreaded the drive across Ohio. I wondered why he didn’t stop south of Cleveland and take in Cuyahoga National Park. We’ve stopped twice on our trips across Ohio and loved it. We’ve stayed at a Harvest Host near Wauseon (American Winery & Brewery) and a very nice RV park in Archbold (Sauder Village Campground). I guess he couldn’t find anything about Ohio he liked, and just referred to it as a “rolling rural emptiness”.
It wasn’t until page 209 that he finally lands in a place he remembers fondly… Dearborn, MI. Yeah, not a misprint. His destination was the Henry Ford Museum, and he goes on and on about Ford’s innovations and the Museum’s artifacts. I wonder what he would say about Dearborn today? Then again, he lives in London in 2024 so, what’s the difference.
Grand Hotel
He continues north through Michigan to the “UP” (Upper Peninsula) and espouses on Mackinac Island, accessible only by ferry. This might be the first place in the book that I might want to put on our “trip list”. There are no cars allowed (or any motorized vehicles). You step off the ferry and are greeted by dozens of horse drawn carriages. It’s not a big island so you could probably walk to any location. The book, plus Google maps gives you a good view of what to expect. One place I would be sure to visit would be the Grand Hotel. Not to stay the night, but to just sit on the front veranda.
Ord, NE - Home town of Robert McBeth
It wasn’t until the last third of the book, that Bryson chronicles his trip through the western half of the lower 48. It was more of the same vitriol for the most part. He heads west for Nebraska. The “most unexciting of all the states”. Hey… WTH? Read my SkyDog Facebook post here to get my take. To me, the part of Nebraska we traveled through was beautiful. It might have had something to do with visiting my father’s home town of Ord. Anyway, Bryson moves on to Kansas, then Colorado, then south through New Mexico. It’s more of the same. He just can’t seem to find much about America that he likes. As a 6-year resident of Utah, I was just waiting for it as I read through his travels through the southwest. Sure enough, as soon as he crossed the border into Utah, he immediately made fun of Mormons. There is nothing or no American that Bryson can’t make fun of.
By this time I had read about as much of the book as I could stand. But I soldiered through the final 80 or so pages. Having read a couple of Bryson’s books, I really wanted to smile at his humor, but all I found myself doing was rolling my eyes and shaking my head. I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t educated. I found little positive tidbits that I would share with fellow travelers. A lot of what he wrote about people and places in 1988, might get him canceled today. In his closing paragraphs he reflects on his trips by saying “I didn’t get shot or mugged. The car didn’t break down. I wasn’t once approached by a Jehovah’s Witness.” Great memories of America, aren’t they?
“The Lost Continent”. What an utter disappointment.
