any interesting hitch-hiker stories you'd like to share?

[Joe Fields]

Well, I have one. I hitch-hiked around the country for almost two years, back in the late '70's, and have many interesting tales. But one that stands out was the time I was thumbing from Laramie, Wyoming to Evanston, some 300 plus miles.

Two young cowboys picked me up in a rusty old white Suburban, and told me they could give me a ride all the way, because they were from Evanston. They wound that Suburban to over 100 m.p.h. and kept it there, but that wasn't the worst part. The passenger pulls out a nickel plated .357 and the two cowboys begin passing it back and forth, admiring it. Needless to say, I was more than a little nervous, and I had one hand on the door handle, ready to make a suicide exit. What's more, the passenger kept glancing back at me, I guess trying to guage my reaction to their passing back and forth of the pistola. Finally, he spoke up, and told me he'd just purchased it a couple of hours before, in Casper, and they hadn't had a real chance to examine it. That really didn't make me feel any better.

Then, the driver got a bright idea. "Let's test it out," he told his partner. So, the passenger loaded it, rolled his window down, and started firing at road signs, while we were doing a hundred and five miles an hour. (this is a favorite pastime for a lot of people who live out west) hardly a road sign is left standing without a bullet hole or three.

So, for about half the ride, I saw my life flashing before me. Finally, we pulled into Rock Springs to get gas and beer. That's when I thanked them for the ride, but told them I wanted to live to see tomorrow. They assured me that they were perfectly safe, but said If I wanted to find another ride to Evanston, then so be it, and they took off back down the road.

When they left, I knelt down and kissed the ground.


Got any good hitch-hiking stories?

[skygazer]

1. A few - let me leaf through the memory files.....

How about this one? Back in '78 when I was 17 I hitched across the country. I got a ride with a couple of truckers in Jersey and after that, I was set - I rode all over the place with truckers. When they got close to their destination, they'd radio ahead (or rather put me on the radio - the female voice worked pretty well at this) and found me another ride.

But finally, my luck kind of ran out (to a certain extent). I got a ride with this old bastard, about 110 years old, driving a ratty old Mack with no sleeper and a passenger seat that wasn't attached to the floorboards - it was like riding a bucking horse.

This guy was a braggart and a liar and he spent about 50 miles telling me about how he had a beautiful yacht on the Chesapeake Bay and how a gorgeous little 18 year old would come onto his yacht with him and do exotic sexual things - I refrained from asking him, "So why is it you drive this shitty old truck?" out of politeness (and disinterest) but he finally got to the point and asked me for a blow job.

So I declined and at that point, he told me, "You know, I could force you."

Well, I laughed in his face - he was just a scrawny little shit, couldn't have weighed more than 95 pounds soaking wet with a rock in his pocket and I told him, "Man, I could pick you up and throw you over my shoulder."

He let me off at the next rest stop.

I had a couple of close encounters like that but for the most part, the people I met hitching were very cool people. I've still got a scrapbook full of names and addresses and business cards from the people I met.

[Joe Fields]

3. most everyone I met was cool, but there were a few...

I don't even know why this one particular guy picked me up, 65 miles outside of Vegas. But he had a brand new Iroc Z Camero, and as soon as I hopped in, he brandished a .22 pistol and said he didn't usually pick up hitch-hikers, but he wanted to let me know he was going to have his hand on his gun at all times, in case I might want to try something funny. Then we took off, and carried a semi-normal conversation all the way in to Vegas.

Wow. But, I was grateful for the ride. It beat being stuck in the Valley of Fire.

[DS1]

2. One night I picked up a dude who was hitching on the interchange

between I95 N and the Mass Pike. He was a Vermonter. Apparently him and a bunch of his buddies had taken an RV down to Boston to party for the weekend, and somehow they got separated. He offered me some weed, but I didn't have any device to put it in, so we bullshitted for awhile. It was snowing. Then we passed an RV and he goes 'Hey, that's my ride' so he opens up the window and leans waaay out, so far out I grabbed his leg to make sure he didn't become roadkill. Waving his arms like a mad man, we both pull over, RV behind the car and he runs back to his pals possibly the happiest guy I've ever seen.

That's pretty much it.

[Joe Fields]

5. What are the odds?

Too badf his buddies didn't produce a pipe or some papers.

I had a van full of college kids pick me up in a van one time, in Arizona. They were on their way back to school in Walsenburg, Colorado, and they shared their weed with me, all the way to Walsenburg. Phenomenal ride!

[asthmaticeog]

4. I buried several hitchhikers in the cellar of my last house.

I don't care if they get found, the guy who lives there now is TOOOOOOOOTALLY creepy. There's no way he won't get the blame.

[mike_c]

6. I have a bunch from my misspent youth....

Let's see, during the summer of 1970 four friends and I went in on a neighbor's old Corvair and left on what we hoped would be an epic summer road trip intended to culminate in south Florida. Five of us in a Corvair. We slept beside the car on remote dirt roads mostly, for as long as the car lasted. It died on us midway through Florida-- it died hard and permanently. We started hitch-hiking. We had to separate to get rides, and we made plans to meet up later, but the plans got scrambled or something and I ended up on my own.

I met another guy in Coco Beach who suggested we hitch-hike to Memphis, where he knew some folks we could stay with for a while. It was all real shaky, and turned out bad, but along the way we met lots of interesting folks.

One night we were sitting beside the road at the head of a highway exit, somewhere in Alabama I think. We'd been thumbing there most of the day, without success-- there wasn't much traffic and nobody was picking up scruffy hippies in rural Alabama in 1970. We were broke and hadn't eaten for a couple of days. After a while we'd both fallen asleep, right there beside the road, laying on the grassy bank. We woke up about 10:00 PM or so with a car stopped next to us and its headlights blinding us. Somebody yelled out of the glare-- "You boys need a ride?"

We tossed our backpacks into the trunk and piled into the back seat. There was a sleeping baby back there in a car seat, and a clean cut young couple in front. The asked us where we were going and we named a town several miles up the road in the general direction we were going in. No, they asked, where are you really going?

We said Memphis and settled back to see how far they'd get us in that direction. They talked quietly for a while in the front seat while we drove, and my friend and I started to doze again in back. The girl woke us up and passed back a handful of those old heart-shaped bennies to keep us awake and asked us were we hungry? We said yes, and told her that we hadn't eaten in a couple of days. The speed helped a lot, of course, but they stopped at the next truck stop anyway and the guy goes inside. He came out a few minutes later with a sack full of hamburgers and passed it back to us. We ate while he drove.

By this time it was after midnight and we'd been in the car for a couple of hours. We were headed in the right direction so we just went with it. The guy and his wife start talking with us about where we'd been, where we were going, and so on. They also told us some of their story. Turns out, they were professional card players, or at least the guy was, and they made their living going from college town to college town and starting card games, mostly in frat houses and such. They'd fleece the college kids and then move on. They mostly lived out of their car.

They probably took us a hundred and fifty miles out of their way, dropping us off just before dawn on an interstate off ramp with the remains of the bag of hamburgers and a dozen more bennies in a cigarette pack. Forty years later that ride still stands out as one of the most interesting I've ever had.

[Joe Fields]

8. yeah, man, it's really something, what some people will do for you.

Brings back a lot of good memories of similar circumstances.

[mulsh]

7. here's adumb one

I was staying in a friend's cabin in Salmon Creek, CA about 3 miles north of Bodega Bay, we were up there doing some minor repairs to the place which was actually 3 cabins.

One morning my friend's daughter & I walked into town via the Sonoma State dunes to pick up some milk. We decided to hitch back home & stood out on highway 1. The first car that stopped was driven by a woman who lived in one of the cabins. she rolled down her window and said "I'm sorry I'd give you a ride but I don't pick up hitchhikers" then sped off.

When we got home we told the family about this. We were all pretty amused by this but Bill the guy who owned the cabins said he'd been looking for reason to evict her. Which he did that afternoon.

I've had real scary rides, people have pulled guns on me. asked me for bj's. A local minister tried to get me to pose for "explicit photos." but the above incident remains fresh in my mind, my friend's daughter's mind too.

[Joe Fields]

10. I remember thumbing through Bodega Bay. It was a perfect afternoon.

The sun shone brightly, all the colors seemed so bright, and a beautiful breeze came off the Bay. It was so picturesque, I half wanted to stay for a few days, but I ended up walking through town on the PCH and caught a ride to San Francisco.

[bikebloke]

9. Former Yugoslavia

I was visiting friends in Switzerland, and said I was going to make autostop down to Greece. They warned me to be vary careful. The route was notoriously known as the "Toten Strasse" - the Death Road. Only two lanes and THE route south to Greece and Bulgaria. So there'd be long parades of lorries and cars and the inevitable passing attempts. All along the way there were burnt out and mangled husks of cars and lorries. I caught a ride in a van with a nice crowd of Germans (they really like War's Cisco Kid, which now reminds of that ride when I hear it). The drivers were pretty safe, but eventually they did a risky pass. Whew! That was close.

Another time through Yugoslavia, the bloke was so excited about picking me up, he detoured to pick up his girlfriend so they both could practice their english.

In Italy, a ride was flying low. I'm sure we broke the sound barrier. But he had eagle eyes and could spot all the speed traps.

In Holland, an ancient old man was picking up hitch hikers and with shaky hands drinking booze. I'm glad it was a small country and I wasn't going far.

I was told not to make autostop in the West Bank. And if I did, then never take rides from Arabs. I did and they were nice.

[Joe Fields]

17. I would love to have been able to do that.

[xchrom]

11. i do -- and nothing i can repeat here.

ah -- life was really really grand and adventurous at one point.

here's to you billy -- wherever you are:toast:

[catmandu57]

12. Several

I first stuck my thumb in the air in 1969, starting local, by the time i turned tenty though my thumb had become magical, taking me anywhere my heart desired, it's my preferred mode of travel, though it's kind of hard hitching in a wheelchair which is how I'd have to do it these days.

Anyway, a short story from a short ride.

It was may 1978, i was living in KCMO and went to the bob Seger stadium show, somehow one of the lenses on my glasses popped out and bust into pieces when it hit the concrete, I could see but not that well.
I had a spare pair at my parents house about 80 miles away and I didn't feel comfortable driving, so I decided to just hitch up and get them and have my brother run me home.
Things got interesting when I hit north kc, i got a ride with a guy driving a 240z, we were cruising in and out of three lane traffic, when he got in a race with someone, we were flying up the road when he lost control, slammed into the gaurdrail, we bounced of that, hit another car, did a couple of doughnuts, went over the embankment rolled a few times and came to rest on the tires at the bottom of the hill.

All i could say was wow, the side was crushed in, so I couldn't open the door, but, i was sitting there freakin out and I became aware of him yelling get out, get out, I thought the car was on fire or something so i scrambled through the window, with him yelling run run I stole this car.

So, I took off into the adjoining houses, about a mile later i got back up on the hyway and got a ride with a drunk who had a fifth of whiskey he was chugging on, telling me about the wreck back down the road, I got out of there as fast as I could.

The next car that stopped gave me a ride to stinktown, they were going to Omaha to a dirty bookstore there and wanted me to go with them, they were all gay, I declined the offer, and finally made my destination about midnight, got my spare eyes and had my brother drive me home.

I've got many road tales, this one stuck with me. Maybe the next big protest in DC I'll climb into the chair and find out how hard it is to catch rides, or course my wife would divorce me for doing it, that's what's stopped me from doing it before, I love the road.

[Joe Fields]

14. I love the open road, too, and I miss it. But I don't believe I would

trust my luck to my thumb, anymore. I'm afraid those days are long gone. I got stopped enough by the cops when I did it, almost 30 years ago. Can't imagine what it would be like now.

[HEyHEY]

13. I was driving through the Penticton Indian Reserve late at night

Two guys were walking down the road, this is in the middle of nowhere. So I slow down and say, "Are you guys all right?"
And they're like, "Yeah man..." And start to get in my car. I was freakin' but trying to play cool too. So, they get in the car and are totally fucked on something. They tell me they're not go far, just to the subrub. I had no idea where that was, so when they told me to turn off down this little road, I was nervous. The whole time they were trying to sell me coke too.
Finally, we got to their destination and they shook hands and left....

pheeww.

[realisticphish]

15. I had this friend named Ford...

Oh, wait :D

[Deja Q]

16. Only this old tale...

[mainegreen]

18. Sure but it reads like a porno and would get this thread so locked, so I leave it to imaginations.

[Blue_In_AK]

19. I used to htchhike all over northern California

in the early '70s...I didn't have a car. I had a couple close calls where I thought I was going to be sexually assaulted, but I managed to talk my way out of them, but the best time was once when my best friend and I hitched to Big Sur and we met this fellow hitchhiker guy down there who snuck us onto the Esalen Institute through the back way. We strolled around the grounds for quite some time until somebody realized we weren't supposed to be there and made us leave. Then we went with him to this fabulous round house out on a cliff over the ocean that was owned by one of the Maytag heirs. He had a bunch of mescaline, so we all got really, really high and had an amazing night. I'll never forget that one. :hippie:

One other time I was hitching from the City to Mt. Tamalpais where I used to like to hang out on the weekends, and these guys who picked me up gave me a whole wad of psilocybin spores wrapped up in a zig-zag paper. That was the time I saw Jesus. :rofl: