Once I was done with the car I wrote Tofino on a chunk of cardboard I'd brought, and suddenly thought, if I don't get aross the street quick I might miss my ride! I dashed across the road, an old green pickup pulled up on the street across from me, turning onto my road, and going my way. I thought, 'now that'd be a ride in style,' stuck my thumb out and smiled, looking eager...
And he stopped! First car = a good day. And it was.
The driver of what turned out to be a 1953 chevy pickup (with a '58 engine) was a dude in his 50's, laid back and clearly smart and interesting.
Rule # 1 about hitchhiking - people who pick up hitchhikers are always interesting, they are non-conformists who follow their own rules. You're not 'suposed' to pick up hitchhikers. Pickers-uppers usually speed (not always) and they are always mavericks in some way.
I've been picked up by drunks, doctors (hot german doctors), lawyers, a Quebec MP, people who wanted to protect me from harm, people who wanted to do me harm, oil barons, drug/cigarette smugglers, mule-skinners, people who wanted me to talk to them so they could smoke pot and drive for fourteen hours straight, and a ninety-year-old couple that just wanted to know my parent's last names...
This guy said he was only going to Combers Beach, about halfway to Tofino, and I could go that far or get off earlier at the interesection, where I'd have a better chance of getting a lift. "Did you say 'beach'?"
I didn't wanna crowd the guy, but we were having a nice chat, so I tagged along and we strolled along Combers, which is fantastic, especially at low tide, and chatted about life. Turns out his name's also Pat, he's an accountant, and he gave me advice on learning how to drive a motorcycle. Then he offered to give me a lift to Tofino, said he had to go get some soup one of these days anyway, and then he wouldn't have to cook dinner. Awesome, so I got a lift back to town.
That leads me to:
Rule # 2 about hitchhiking - the less you care about getting to your destination, the sooner you'll get there (detachment). For example, my third and fourth hitching trips - a month each in Europe, I developed this habit: people are curious about how you do the basics of life; pee, eat, wash, where you sleep. And they generally ask it in that order. To the first questions I'd answer honestly ( and make it interesting of course (as long as we're doing rules: Rule # 1 of being a Maritimer - if you're going to tell a story - make sure it's good. Don't get hung up on it being true, no-one wants to hear a true boring story...). They'd eventually build up the nerve to ask; "and, .. where do you sleep?"
I'd give a dramatic pause and say, "wherever I am when it gets dark." The thing is, it was true. And it reflected how little I cared. I had a backpack with a good tent (for rain only, otherwise - under the stars), sleeping bag, and experience - I'd slept outside in every kind of place and condition one could imagine, and I genuinely didn't care. The one thing was - I don't hitchike after dark. Period. And if they asked follow up questions I'd explain whatever details they were curious about, then they'd give the dramatic pause. Or change the topic, while they thought. And somewhere between 10 seconds and three hours later nine out of ten people would invite me home to stay at their place. I wasn't looking for that, I just let it happen. I knew ultimately that it would get dark, I'd sleep somewhere, I was 22, and free, and happy, and I'd be the same tomorrow. And the next day...
That brings us to:
Rule # 3 of hitch-hiking - Never hitch-hike after dark. I know some people grow up in hitch-hiking Oases, like Tofino, maybe a few places in Quebec, and do it, and get away with it, but in the big bad world out there - you enter the realm of vampires, werewolves, and other human Predators. Believe me, I learned the hard way (although I never got hurt, raped, or killed (clearly - I got better!)) - I had some close calls. It gets dark = go to sleep. Or go party, read, do your sewing, anything other than hitch-hike. I've given this advice to lots of people, and the one's who don't listen at first, do later.
That's it for now. I think there'll have to be more entries on this subject, there's a few more rules. Maybe they would be better termed, 'Principles.'
So, Pat the accountant drove me back to Tofino in his green 53 Chevy pick-up, I went about my day, and as the hitchhiking-personal-power-gods had revealed by the omen of the first car picking me up - it was a good day.
Busted flat in Baton Rouge, headin' for the train,
Feelin' nearly faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down, just before it rained;
Took us all the way to New Orleans.
I took my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna,
And was blowing sad while Bobby sang the blues.
With them windshield wipers slappin' time,
And Bobby clappin' hands,
We finally sang up every song that driver knew.
Freedom's just another word for nothing' left to lose:
Nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free.
if you don't know this quote, I can't help you.
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