A Crossing: A Cyclist's Journey Home

by Brian Newhouse

Book Overview

From Simon & Schuster, A Crossing is Brian Newhouse's book about a cyclist's journey home.

A travelogue in the tradition of Blue Highways and On the Road, this book tells the extraordinary story of one man's solo bicycle adventure across America--and the spiritual and personal awakening he experienced on his journey.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0671568981
• ISBN13: 9780671568986
• Release Date: August 1998
• Publisher: Gallery Books
• Length: 288 Pages
• Weight: 0.65 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.7" x 5.4" x 8.6"

Customer Reviews

Tour de force on relationships, from laughing to crying

It would be easy to recommend this book to men who have reserved Scandinavian fathers. That's who you would share your copy with. But the message, in elegant and crisp language, is just as strong about relationships. Unfortunately, most men - at least in the Midwest - do not talk about relationships outside of their marriage. When I read this book, I felt the excitement and imagination in those age-old reasons why we care about people. I don't cycle, but the intensity of the cross-country trip was a meaningful backdrop to what happens when I cycle in and out of my friends' lives.

A long time since I've seen tears on my pages

I'm a 49-year-old male raised on an Illinois farm and thought I'd long since passed the day when a book of remembrances could touch me so. Fathers out here, and elsewhere I suspect, have learned the art of showing love only lately ... and awkwardly. Brian Newhouse uses the physical act of crossing the nation via bike as a metaphor for his inward journey toward his father's heart. I can hardly speak to how this book might seem to others, but I saw myself again and again in his struggles with faith, with love, and with himself. It's been a long time since I've seen tears on a book in my hands.

A Heartening, Vivid Adventure

Before I say anything else, I want to congratulate Brian Newhouse on his first book. For someone who hadn't considered himself a writer before putting this story to paper, it is a remarkable achievement. It would be for a writer of any experience. That he succeeded in conveying to this reader the fiber of his journey is a credit; such a book could have only been written from a place deep inside. A CROSSING rang with an honesty, a certain innocence, that disarmed me. The book pulled virtually every heartstring I possessed: I'll remember my gusts of laughter at gems like "The Rim Wizard of Fergus Falls"; punching my fist in the air when Brian caught that forever-in-coming first prairie tailwind and THROTTLED; the kinship I felt (having been on my own, though shorter, bike trips) when reading his aptly fragmented account of the Return, the bizarre nature of it all; and how, after turning the last page, this was the first book I'd ever read that managed to tug a tear from me. Why? Because I felt as if I too had made the journey and had to leave it behind. Because the people in the book felt real (and are real). Because the story, carried on the shoulders of elegant prose, succeeds. And because, well, I'm 28, have a father, and still dream of the poetry this country might write in me when I finally cross it on two wheels. But, reader, you needn't have ridden a bike to appreciate this book. After all, though there's plenty of miles covered between coasts, it is really a backdrop for a much larger voyage not measured in days or miles, only felt. Treat yourself, your family, and your friends to this wonderful read.

Rich, satisfying, joyful banquet for the soul

Right up front I need to tell you that I'm Brian's older male cousin who grew up near him on another farm just down the gravel road from the Newhouse turkey farm. If I need to make the point, a relative's review would be welcomed like a pulsating nose zit on prom night, so with that disclaimer aside, I feel entitled and distanced by time and baser style to offer my own observations. As I howled and slapped my way through A Crossing in one sensuous sitting, I had the extraordinarily delicious advantage of directly recalling the soft scent of Ivory soap wafting from his gentle family members around their bountiful dinner table, contrasting in my olfactory memory with the sharp odor of watered-down blood and feather remnants that were drying on the the killing floor of their turkey processing building, just as Brian describes.Brian's carefully drawn Rockwellian images of his life with his original family on their farm resonated deeply within my own experience in coming of age within our wholesome and intertwined nuclear families vis-a-vis the shadow and the sunshine of the neighboring religious communities in which we were nurtured. That there would be conflict with his father over genuine fervently held fundamentalist beliefs was inevitable. That father and son would struggle to bridge a chasm of the hearts each in their own way, makes for an engaging tale. If only the sleek to slogging bicycle trip spanning the entire North American continent were just a metaphor, but that gutsy parallel feat adds sinew and grit to undergird and propel a complicated simple story. Throw in a montage of engaging characters and challenges along the road less traveled by pedal power, while trying to get a fix on the poor young sap's long-distance love life, and I offer every adult child and their parents, non-relatives included, a hilarious and sobering brisk glimpse into an artful attempt to live a rich life with extraordinary talent, passion, sensitivity and integrity.

Engrossing physical/spiritual journey, with insight & humor

I read The Crossing in one sitting--it's an easy and engrossing read, yet full of humor and insight. It's about being young and unsettled, searching for something true and profound--but it never bogs down in navel-gazing or verbosity. The writing is quick and lean, rich with self-effacing humor, which makes the insights go down easily. The book takes the form of a journal, and it reminds me of many trips I've taken, but the author has written about his journey with a grace and fluidity that makes this the diary we all wish we'd had the talent to write.