Author Archives: georgebryson

It was Thanksgiving. I’d been hoping to reach New Orleans by mid-afternoon, ideally in time for an open-to-the-public turkey dinner at a neighborhood church — but we arrived too late in the day. Turning off the highway near the Superdome, … Continue reading →

First, the back-story. While touring the country with his dog and truck a half century ago, John Steinbeck’s journey around America finally hit a kind of emotional wall in the Deep South, where he witnessed firsthand the forced integration of … Continue reading →

“Blue-sky morning! Rain-free riding! George, what are you waiting for? Get going, man —now! Ride like the wind! Ride like the wind for Texas!” But Bike Guy, I’m not ready. I still need to write that post about breakfast in … Continue reading →

When asked by a reporter why he spent so much of his life trying to rob banks, the convict William “Willie” Sutton famously replied: “Because that’s where the money is.” Exactly. And if you were to ask why I spent … Continue reading →

Sorry but something about the name of this place (in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina) struck me as a little bit funny.

Passing by Mount Vernon just south of Washington D.C. last week, I decided on a whim  to visit George Washington’s ancestral home, which I’d never seen before. Paying to take the tour (the home is privately maintained and not visible … Continue reading →

No, I haven’t been loved up by those river women or turned into a toad by that crazy Circe. Just changing out of my cold-weather riding gear here at a wayside in Tennessee, where I’m happily heading west. A couple … Continue reading →

Thirty years ago last January I drove a car from the West Coast to the East Coast to start a one-year tour of duty as a relatively young Washington correspondent for the Anchorage Daily News. I arrived in D.C.  just … Continue reading →

I didn’t set out to document the Occupy Wall Street movement coast to coast, but I easily could have. Its supporters have been active virtually everywhere we’ve traveled so far, including, most recently, Washington D.C. The encampment across the street … Continue reading →

If riding a motorcycle on a rush-hour freeway in Seattle was my high school graduation, and doing the same on a Friday night in Chicago was my undergraduate degree, then think of New York City as the bar exam. I … Continue reading →