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Unit 3

Out of Step

Bill Bryson

1

After

living

in

England

for

20

years,

my

wife

and

I

decided

to

move

back

to the United States. We wanted to live in a town small enough that we

could walk to the business district, and settled on Hanover, N.H., a

typical

New England

town

—

pleasant, sedate

and compact. It

has a broad

central

green

surrounded

by

the

venerable

buildings

of

Dartmouth

College,

an old-fashioned Main Street and leafy residential neighborhoods. 2 It

is,

in

short,

an

agreeable,

easy

place

to

go

ab

out

one’s

business

on

foot,

and yet as far as I can tell, virtually no one does.

3 Nearly every day, I walk to the post office or library or bookstore,

and

sometimes,

if

I

am

feeling

particularly

debonair,

I

stop

at

Rosey

Jekes

Café

for

a

cappuccino.

Occas

ionally,

in

the

evenings,

my

wife

and

I

stroll

up to the Nugget Theatre for a movie or to Murphy’s on the Green for a

beer, I wouldn’t dream of going to any of these places by car. People

have gotten used to my eccentric behavior, but in the early days

acquaintances

would

often

pull

up

to

the

curb

and

ask

if

I

wanted

a

ride.

4 “I’m going your way,” they would insist when I politely declined.

“Really, it’s no bother.”

5 “Honestly, I enjoy walking.”

6

“Well,

if

you’re sure,”

they

would

say

and

depart

reluctan

tly,

even

guiltily,

as

if

leaving

the

scene

of

an

accident

without

giving

their

name.

7 In the United States we have become so habituated to using the car for

everything that it doesn’t occur to us to unfurl our legs and see what

those lower limbs can do. We have reached an age where college students

expect to drive between classes, where parents will drive three blocks

to

pick

up

their

children

from

a

friend’s

house,

where

the

letter

carrier

takes his van up and down every driveway on a street.

8

We

will

go

through

the

most

extraordinary

contortions

to

save

ourselves

from walking. Sometimes it’s almost ludicrous. The other day I was

waiting to bring home one of my children from a piano lesson when a car

stopped

outside

a

post

office,

and

a

man

about

my

age

popped

out

and

dashed

inside. He was in the post office for about three or four minutes, and

then came out, got in the car and drove exactly 16 feet (I had nothing

better to do, so I paced it off) to the general store6 next door.

9 And the thing is, this m

an looked really fit. I’m sure he jogs

extravagant distances and plays squash and does all kinds of healthful

things, but I am just as sure that he drives to

each of these undertakings.

10 An acquaintance of ours was complaining the other day about the

difficulty of finding a place to park outside the local gymnasium. She

goes

there

several

times

a

week

to

walk

on

a

treadmill.

The

gymnasium

is,

at most, a six-minute walk from her front door.

11 I asked her why she didn’t walk to the gym and do six minutes l

ess

on

the

treadmill.

12

She

looked

at

me

as

if

I

were

tragically

simple-minded

and

said,

“But

I

have

a

program

for

the

treadmill.

It

records

my

distance

and speed and calorie burn rate, and I can adjust it for degree of

difficulty.”

13

I

confess

it

had

not

occurred

to

me

how

thoughtlessly

deficient

nature

is in this regard.

14 According to a concerned and faintly horrified 1997 editorial in the

Boston Globe, the United States spent less than one percent of its

transportation budget on facilities for pedest

rians. Actually, I’m

surprised

it

was

that

much.

Go

to

almost

any

suburb

developed

in

the

last

30

years,

and

you

will

not

find

a

sidewalk

anywhere.

Often

you

won’t

find

a single pedestrian crossing.

15 I had this brought home to me one summer when we were driving across

Maine and stopped for coffee in one of those endless zones of shopping

malls, motels, gas stations and fast-food places. I noticed there was a

bookstore across the street, so I decided to skip coffee and head over.

16

Although

the

bookshop

was

no

more

than

70

or

80

feet

away,

I

discovered

that there was no way to cross on foot without dodging over six lanes of

swiftly moving traffic. In the end, I had to get in our car and drive

across.

17 At the time, it seemed ridiculous and exasperating, but afterward I

realized

that

I

was

possibly

the

only

person

ever

to

have

entertained

the

notion of negotiating that intersection on foot.

18

The

fact

is,

we

not

only

don’t

walk

anywhere

anymore

in

this

country,

we won’t walk anywhere, and woe to anyone who

tries to make us, as the

city of Laconia, N.H., discovered. In the early 1970s, Laconia spent

millions on a comprehensive urban renewal project, which included