Reading this book was an experience similar to opening a time capsule from around the time I was born. John Steinbeck was 58 when he decided in 1960 that he needed to travel across the U.S. to take the pulse of America. He'd grown up in the Monterey, California area, and lived in many other places, but had been in New York for many years. It was time to take a trip. He ordered a truck and had it outfitted as a camper (which wasn't common at that time) and took off with his dog, Charley, for three months. He headed up north into Maine, then drove across the northern States and then south along the West Coast and back home through the South. He loaded his camper with whiskey and other libations, along with about 4 times more stuff than he needed, per his estimate. When he found someone to talk to, which he often did, he'd invite them into his camper home and serve up some coffee or whiskey (or both) and try to get them to talk. He says that no one recognized him as the author he was.
Topics that interested him were the Presidential race of 1960 (although he had trouble trying to get anyone to talk about politics with him), as well as race relations in the South. A number of the topics he mused about were everyday sorts of topics, like mobile homes, people's roots, giant redwood trees, and local accents. He speaks most to Charley, a large "blue" poodle who was starting to get a bit elderly, but who was a great companion for the trip. I was riveted by this thoughtful book, and now I need to read (and in a few cases, re-read) Steinbeck's novels.
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