Northern New Jersey to Cheyenne, Wyoming
On the show broadcast Sept. 25 in NYC, Rudy said that no one
hitchhikes anymore. Not so. In late August I went on a 3600-mile
trip to and from Cheyenne, Wyoming from Northern N.J. I am a
veteran of about 25,000 hitchhiking miles logged from 1969 to
1976 and wanted to see if my thumb still worked. As a driver
these past twenty-some years I had seen very few hitchhikers,
even away from large cities. I never believed that hitching was
dangerous, although almost everyone else (including Hollywood)
does.
Calling my August trip "the mid-life crisis tour," I set out
early one Friday morning intending to hitch to the West Coast
and fly back (because I needed to be back the following
Thursday). With 40 more pounds (under my belt), and a lot less
hair than I had in the "old days," I started on Route 80 about
35 miles west of NYC, carrying a small, expandable suitcase. I
admit to being nervous in the beginning, mostly concerned about
my stamina and the embarrassment of failure. Now firmly
ensconced in the middle class (I am a lawyer/small businessman),
I had enough money and credit cards to eat well, sleep well and
treat my rides to whatever they might need. I was prepared to
quit if I got stuck somewhere.
In just five rides and 2 1/2 days I was in Cheyenne, WY. I detoured
in Cheyenne to the Badlands and Mt. Rushmore via a rental car
for two days. Because my trip west was so easy, I decided to hitch
back home. My return trip took another 2 1/2 days and 10 rides.
Except for one three-hour wait in central PA on the westbound
leg, I never waited more than 30 minutes for a ride. I even
snagged one ride (in Iowa City from a transgendered person who
took me to the Indiana border) while talking on my cell phone (in my
left hand while thumbing with my right). All in all, it was a
pleasant trip with no problems, no danger and only two
encounters with the police (in Pennsylvania and Wyoming), both of whom could
not understand why I was hitching.
I saw only a few other hitchers during my trip and they looked
pretty bedraggled. I picked one up in SD on my detour to the
Badlands. He was headed to Rockford, IL from Casper, WY and was
in bad shape. I gave him money for food and skin creme for his
bad sunburn (from waiting hours for a ride).
In most respects this trip was as uneventful as my earlier
25,000 miles. The people who gave me rides were all decent folk
who were not persuaded by the current stereotype of hitching.
For about half of the recent miles I was in a truck and only one
ride (from the transgendered person) was from a woman. One
difference is that there are no wildly painted VW mico-buses on
the road anymore and no one under 28 picked me up. I suspect
that my less than frightening appearance accounted for much of
my recent success, although one of my good friends (an one
hitching partner) remarked that seeing a "normal" person
hitching would make him even less likely to pick up someone.
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