The Railroad Rides Upon Us

October was a blurrrr. With only two pediatrician visits, baby Luciano (my son) had a slow month. And fortunately not too much destruction was left in the wake of a visit from Hurricane Milton and my mother. All is goodish here in Orlandoland. I wish at least the same upon you, wherever you are in the world.

In today’s missive, musings on a passage in Thoreau’s Walden, some personal updates, and a few new books to look out for.

The Railroad Rides Upon Us

It is a beautiful October afternoon here in Central Florida and I sit in my backyard reading a few lines from Henry David Thoreau’s Walden again. I don’t know why I pick up Walden. But I do know is one of several books I often dip into as a sort of palate cleanser after encountering so many unsavory ideas throughout the day. Today I come upon a passage about the railroad and the illusory nature of modernity.

Of “modern improvements,” Thoreau says “there is an illusion about them; there is not always a positive advance… They are but improved means to an unimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive at.”

One such “modern improvement” was the train. The railroad tracks ran within earshot of the cabin Thoreau lived in near Walden Pond. He regularly heard the train rattle and whistle from his cabin as it made its way to Fitchburg from Concord and back again.

The fare to Fitchburg was ninety cents, or about a day’s wages in Thoreau’s time. The 30-mile ride took about an hour. Thoreau questioned if this was a good deal:

“I start now on foot, and get there before night… Instead of going to Fitchburg, you will be working here the greater part of the day” to pay for the fare.

In other words, why would anyone spend an entire day working to pay for a train ride when they could make it on foot in that same amount of time for free?

Thoreau’s response shouldn’t be read as a simple affirmation of frugality and what we now might call “slow travel.” It is at its core a condemnation of the backwardness and paradox of modern life.

I’ve been thinking about this anecdote in the context of my own situation here in Central Florida, no less because Thoreau drew parallels between the fare to Fitchburg and those who postpone their lives until retirement.

Thoreau wrote, “No doubt they can ride at last who shall have earned their fare, that is, if they survive so long, but they will probably have lost their elasticity and desire to travel by that time. This spending of the best part of one’s life earning money in order to enjoy a questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it, reminds me of the Englishman who went to India to make a fortune first, in order that he might return to England and live the life of a poet.”

I am reminded of the parable of the American businessman who asks a Mexican fisherman why he hasn’t built a fleet of fishing vessels to capture the market. “To what end?” the fisherman asks the businessman. “So in retirement I can enjoy the lifestyle that I am currently living?”

To be sure, these questions have been asked long before Thoreau fielded them in Walden. The ancient Roman philosopher Seneca once remarked that “The fool, with all his other faults, has this also: he is always getting ready to live.”

I’ve been thinking about Thoreau’s anecdote because I can see myself in it, unfortunately not as Thoreau but as the fool who works all day to pay for the train.

I have a decent job and live comfortably. But today Thoreau is asking me difficult questions:

Why do you work so much? To pay for a life in a place you are eager to escape any chance you get? To pay for a data connection on a mobile device that you know is harming your brain and society? To pay for all the things you don’t really need with “unlimited FREE two-day shipping”?

One problem with modern society might be that it is easy to get trapped into believing what we have is not good enough. For some, this is unintentional “lifestyle creep,” the term used to describe the phenomenon of someone’s spending increasing as their salary increases. You make more money, so you don’t think twice about spending more. For others, however, having more stuff and spending more money is the goal.

Now I generally don’t have a problem with people making and enjoying money. But I have a problem with the situation I find myself in. I find myself working to pay for a life I swore to never live. I find myself postponing most of the things in this world I care most deeply about.

I don’t think I’m succumbing to the hazards of nostalgia in stating that we, when we had less money and things and obligations, were happier. Perhaps this was because what we lost in money we gained in time and experiences. Yet I was already in my early 30s when I sold off most of my possessions to move to Spain, where I taught English for 15 hours a week. In other words, I wasn’t that young. I could have—should have—stayed in Spain, with my heart, but a job offer during the Great Recession in a town not far from where I grew up was, from my parent’s convincing perspective, an opportunity too good to pass up.

So it hits a bit close to home when I read in Walden, “We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us.”

What I think he meant was that our possessions are not simply things we own—they are, in a way, things that possess us. And when a person becomes a possession, is this not called slavery?

Personal Updates

I am nearly half way done with one sample chapter for my book proposal. I was able to make some forward progress in the last week or so. Check out my creator’s log for those quick updates.

I posted a video on YouTube (and a blog post) about my method for organizing, backing up, and archiving my digital photos. This is a workflow video, which also discusses hardware and software, for digital asset management. Not for the faint of heart!

New Books

Pico Iyer’s new book Aflame will be published in January 2025. Pre-order here. It seems to be a great companion to his earlier book The Art of Stillness, which you must read or listen to Iyer narrate. I have my hands on an early copy, which I’ll report on in due course.

Aatish Tasser’s new book A Return to Self: Excursions in Exile will be published in July 2025. Pre-order here. The book looks promising, especially since his books usually dig far deeper than most travel narratives I’ve come across of late.

Daniel Light’s The White Ladder: Triumph and Tragedy at the Dawn of Mountaineering will be published on 19 November. Pre-order here.

And Mountains Before Mountaineering by Dawn Hollis will be published in the USA on 19 November. Pre-order here.

That’s all for this month. If you’re in the USA, please get out and vote!

Farewell.