Dan Barry, of the New York Times
By his own admission, Dan Barry is on permanent Wanderjahr. Beginning in Manchester, Connecticut, then moving to Providence, Rhode Island, and then meandering to New York City in 1995 to work for the New York Times, Mr. Barry's restless feet and disquisitive mind have caused him to embrace the open road with a passion not seen since Marco Polo set off from Venice in quest of the fabled wealth of Cathay.
With nothing but a pen and pad, Mr. Barry trods the obscure rural lanes and glittering cosmopolitan boulevards of America to discover what makes America tick. He has crisscrossed the country on foot so often that his Florsheims have Frequent Flier Miles. Although he will occasionally fly or take the train, and has been known to get behind the wheel of his vintage Citroen from time to time, he prefers to travel by mare's shank -- in order to snuff up the pedestrian pollen of everyday life in Dubuque or Pahrump. Sidling along a sidewalk in Woonsocket, Mr. Barry relies on serendipity to discover things like the last castor oil works in the United States, or how to make good corn cob jelly. His inexhaustible curiosity keeps him constantly on the move, and his editors in New York stamp the ground in a Rumpelstiltskin-like rage at his propensity to be in Cut Bank when he's supposed to be in Alpharetta. But wherever his traveling tootsies take him, you can be sure he will find a story of elemental surprise and slightly acidulous schmaltz to report on.
He has written so many books that he has been the Center Fold in the Nebraska Library Journal a total of five times in the past ten years.
He always travels with his pet glass snake Oscar, and has never turned down a helping of scrapple in his life.
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