Today was one of those days that solidly reminded me of how much I enjoy hitchhiking. By the numbers: 248 miles (just ask Siri!); Willits CA to Roseburg OR; three rides, each engaging and most enjoyable.
I slept under the stars at Ray’s old homestead. Nobody showed up; come morning I left no sign of my presence except a note on the door. The note eventually led to a phone conversation with Ray’s only son’s wife, who gently explained that Ray had died two years ago at 68. He had developed Parkinson’s disease, and had four pretty difficult years before he died at home. While there’s no provable connection, the general consensus was that he had been heavily exposed to Agent Orange while in Nam in the 60s, and that it had led to early-onset Parkinson’s. Rest in peace, Ray; you were a good man. I was able to fill in a few pieces of history from my limited experience as the mechanic at Ray’s bicycle shop in the early 1970s, which she appreciated.
My first ride was a 67 year old hippie woman who had lived in community all of her life and now lived quite happily at Wavy Gravy’s Camp Winnarainbow in Laytonville. The second ride, from Garberville to Crescent City, was with a Seventh-Day Adventist pastor; we had fascinating discussions about life, religion, kindness and love… And the last was with two ex-marine business partners, who among other things run Umpqua Survival, a store set up to serve preppers in the southern Oregon region. They very much appreciated my knowledge of off grid PV; indeed, theirs is one of few solar businesses that is well-served to simply not offer grid-tied systems, but only battery based.
I ended the day sipping delicious moonshine with their store proprietor, on whose lawn in Roseburg I’ll sleep tonight.
There’s for me a clear beauty and grace in this mode of travel, in trusting in others’ kindness. I can never know where I’ll get my next meal or where I’ll spend the night, yet it always works out well, and often beyond what I might imagine. I have long understood hitchhiking to be of mutual benefit to both driver and passenger, rather than just a benefit to me as rider. I always want to give back, whether it’s good conversation, shared stories and experiences, occasionally entertainment, and at minimum the creation of trust with a stranger.
Now I’m a day ahead. Only about 100 driving miles left, plus 48 riding miles from Albany OR up the Santiam River to Don and Kelly’s cabin, and two days to get there. The hitchhiking has been highly productive; I remind myself that at best one passing vehicle in ten even has room to carry my rig, so it’s all the more amazing to me to have moved with such speed.