by Eric Schenck
In December of 2016 I hitchhiked from Dallas, Texas to Tucson, Arizona to visit my best friend.
It was the day after Christmas. I wanted to make it there by New Years – and I did.
Here are my stats:
- Total days: 4
- Total drivers: 12
- Total miles traveled: 956
- Shortest ride of the trip: 15 miles (the first one)
- Longest ride of the trip: 350 miles (the last one)
- People who didn’t pick me up: about a million 🙂
I was craving a little bit of adventure, and I certainly got it.
Hitchhiking the U.S. was fun, scary, and (at times) even made me laugh. But more important than these things?
Everything it taught me:
If somebody is nice, it doesn’t matter how weird they are.
One of my first drivers was a guy in a baseball cap. He smiled when I climbed in, nodded when I said thanks, and didn’t say a word the entire time.
Something else interesting about him? He had about 1,500 beer cans in the back of his truck. Before he dropped me off, I helped him unload them at the dump.
When I finally got out, he gave me one more nod, and then was on his way.
Weird?
Definitely.
But he gave me a ride, and that’s all that matters.
A few quick changes can make a world of difference.
One afternoon in El Paso I couldn’t catch a break. Nobody would stop, and no matter what I did, the majority of drivers didn’t even seem to glance my way.
My last-ditch effort?
Take my hat off to look a bit more welcoming.
And wouldn’t you know it – five minutes later a girl stopped for me.
Go figure.
Quick changes (and usually small ones) really can make all the difference. Use that however you want.
Humor is the great equalizer.
Two Mexican sisters picked me up in a truck. They ended up driving me about an hour down the road.
One thing I tried to do with each one of my drivers: take a picture together. Sister #1 loved the idea. Sister #2? She was horrified at being on camera.
(Can you guess which is which?)
Naturally, me and sister #1 had a field day.
We laughed the entire hour, and I got out of their truck feeling a little lighter.
Solitude will slowly kill you.
This truck driver picked me up one late afternoon. He told me he was excited to see me on the side of the road because most of his day was spent alone, and he loved having somebody to talk to.
What followed was two hours of him talking about loneliness. About how you start to lose contact with people, and how it only gets worse as you get older.
As he dropped me off, he told me:
“Stay in touch with your friends, man. Just might save you.”
I think he’s probably right.
The greatest joy comes after shitty times.
December in central Texas sucks if you stand outside too long. It’s even worse when it’s on the side of the road.
Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I had to do on day 3 of hitchhiking.
I waited for four hours that morning to get picked up. Desperation started rearing its ugly head. Thankfully, somebody finally did pick me up.
Mario my savior:
- Gave me coffee and a breakfast sandwich
- Turned on his heater full blast so I could warm up
- Drove me over 200 miles (which I napped for half of)
The best ride of the trip – right after the worst morning.
Some people really just want to share their interests with you.
One father-son duo picked me up, and immediately asked me if I was a Slipknot fan. They were going to one of their concerts early the next year, and were clearly jazzed about it.
Naturally, Slipknot is all we listened to that drive.
They didn’t care about my story. Didn’t care about where I was from, what I was doing, why I was weird enough to hitchhike.
Sometimes that’s annoying. You want people to take an interest in you. But with complete strangers? With the near constant conversations you have to have while hitchhiking? These music nerds were a blessing, and I was more than thrilled to just sit back and listen.
You’ll eventually get lucky.
I got used to a whole lot of rejection. Hitchhiking probably has over a 99% failure rate, and it doesn’t help that U.S. culture doesn’t look kindly on it.
But that last morning?
The very first driver that passed me stopped, and drove me 350 miles all the way to Tucson. Three minutes of waiting, and a direct trip to my final destination.
It was the luckiest I could possibly get.
…
Hitchhiking is fun. It’s also not nearly as dangerous as you think.
(According to Wandrly Magazine, you only have a 0.0000089% of being raped or killed while doing it, so there’s that.)
Still, I don’t think it’s something everyone should try. It’s a lot of nothing, interspersed with random “somethings.” That’s just not a ratio most people can live with.
But when those “somethings” happen? You meet somebody new, learn something about the world-
And save on gas doing it. 🙂
Hitchhiking in the U.S. is one of coolest things I’ve ever done, and I will always remember it fondly. Adventure + life lessons?
Sounds like my idea of a good time!
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