Sam Anderson

One day I stood staring fascinated at a decrepit brick house built in 1790, its windows broken in a way that made it look somehow like the embodiment of the fall of the American empire. And as I stood there, a cyber truck drove by. On some days, the walking was heartbreakingly lovely. The names of certain roads still make me sigh. Wood Road, Gage Road, Spring Lake Road, Judds Bridge Road.

One day I stood staring fascinated at a decrepit brick house built in 1790, its windows broken in a way that made it look somehow like the embodiment of the fall of the American empire. And as I stood there, a cyber truck drove by. On some days, the walking was heartbreakingly lovely. The names of certain roads still make me sigh. Wood Road, Gage Road, Spring Lake Road, Judds Bridge Road.

Huge territories felt like outdoor museums. Curated collections of old stone walls, curving gently and rising with the land. the wide, quiet beauty of old New England. I spent many hours alone with birds.

Huge territories felt like outdoor museums. Curated collections of old stone walls, curving gently and rising with the land. the wide, quiet beauty of old New England. I spent many hours alone with birds.

I watched a giant woodpecker perched on a thin, rotten tree, pecking so hard that the whole tree shook and swayed, pumping its red head until giant chunks of bark flew off, and it looked like the woodpecker was about to peck the whole thing apart and go plunging to the ground. Hawks screamed at me for invading their space, or they glided silently over my head, staring down.

I watched a giant woodpecker perched on a thin, rotten tree, pecking so hard that the whole tree shook and swayed, pumping its red head until giant chunks of bark flew off, and it looked like the woodpecker was about to peck the whole thing apart and go plunging to the ground. Hawks screamed at me for invading their space, or they glided silently over my head, staring down.

I startled probably 10,000 squirrels, and as they shot off through the dry leaves, they were so disproportionately loud that sometimes I thought they were bears. I had plenty of bad times, too.

I startled probably 10,000 squirrels, and as they shot off through the dry leaves, they were so disproportionately loud that sometimes I thought they were bears. I had plenty of bad times, too.

There were days so cold my hands stung, even in gloves, inside my coat pockets, and the wind whipped up tornadoes of snow, and I could feel my mustache hairs freezing and crunching in the steam from my nose. Other days, just as cold, I was sweating so hard I had to take off my coat and hat. I was reminded over and over that the modern world is not made for walking.

There were days so cold my hands stung, even in gloves, inside my coat pockets, and the wind whipped up tornadoes of snow, and I could feel my mustache hairs freezing and crunching in the steam from my nose. Other days, just as cold, I was sweating so hard I had to take off my coat and hat. I was reminded over and over that the modern world is not made for walking.

I spent many miles trudging, on high alert, up traffic-y highways without shoulders. Cars came screaming around corners. I found myself tightrope walking along the tops of cliffs, clinging like a goat to the sides of hills, teetering on old stone walls.

I spent many miles trudging, on high alert, up traffic-y highways without shoulders. Cars came screaming around corners. I found myself tightrope walking along the tops of cliffs, clinging like a goat to the sides of hills, teetering on old stone walls.

I stepped over all kinds of roadkill, a freshly pressed groundhog, a pancaked hawk, a pickup truck speeding past so close that I felt a rush of wind. And at the last second, a German shepherd shot its head out the window, barking and snapping, actually trying to bite me. One car whipped around a blind turn so suddenly that I went leaping over a guardrail, bashing my shin.

I stepped over all kinds of roadkill, a freshly pressed groundhog, a pancaked hawk, a pickup truck speeding past so close that I felt a rush of wind. And at the last second, a German shepherd shot its head out the window, barking and snapping, actually trying to bite me. One car whipped around a blind turn so suddenly that I went leaping over a guardrail, bashing my shin.

It left a swollen knot that's still there. That same day, fighting my way through roadside trees, clinging to a different guardrail for balance, I sliced the heel of my hand open on a nasty piece of metal. It became clear to me very quickly that despite my fascination and my fantasies, I am not the old leather man. I never slept in a cave. In fact, it turns out that I'm afraid of caves.

It left a swollen knot that's still there. That same day, fighting my way through roadside trees, clinging to a different guardrail for balance, I sliced the heel of my hand open on a nasty piece of metal. It became clear to me very quickly that despite my fascination and my fantasies, I am not the old leather man. I never slept in a cave. In fact, it turns out that I'm afraid of caves.

Every time I found one, I would stand outside it for a few minutes, trying to peer in from a distance, and then I'd throw in rocks and sticks to scare out any wild animals. And only then, cautiously, holding my breath, would I creep inside. Instead, I slept in hotels. Or I just went home.

Every time I found one, I would stand outside it for a few minutes, trying to peer in from a distance, and then I'd throw in rocks and sticks to scare out any wild animals. And only then, cautiously, holding my breath, would I creep inside. Instead, I slept in hotels. Or I just went home.

I'd walk all day and then, exhausted, order an Uber back to wherever I'd started, usually a shopping center where I'd parked my car. The ride was always humiliating. In 10 or 15 minutes, it rewound the walk that had taken me all day. It turned out that I was much more a creature of society than I like to admit. I'd walk for a couple of days and then have to go home for a dentist appointment.

I'd walk all day and then, exhausted, order an Uber back to wherever I'd started, usually a shopping center where I'd parked my car. The ride was always humiliating. In 10 or 15 minutes, it rewound the walk that had taken me all day. It turned out that I was much more a creature of society than I like to admit. I'd walk for a couple of days and then have to go home for a dentist appointment.