So just imagine travelling from Canada to Chile. Toronto to the Tiera del Fuego.....
Then back to the Panama Canal, sail the Caribbean, and cargo ship it to Australia/Asia and hitch the rest of the land from Pangea.
So cool I think I just might do it.....
Yep. Im gonna.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Between rocks and hard places; pedders and locked doors....
Ive been doing alot of research for my writing and planned hitching travels, and Im stumbling upon more and more negatively perceived views on hitchhiking. Its somewhat discouraging, but at the same time, its only fuel for the fire. Although, I know for others its the final deterrent when deciding to try it. But realize; for the most part, the ways of the road do not change in different places. There are poor drivers, awful roads, weirdos, criminals and saints everywhere. Ill remind you it was a Canadian Greyhound(the preferred method of travel from say Queens University, like, to like, Western, like, right, like 90lb blonde cheerleader, like) that was the stage for international headlines when that awful decapitation occured. -Stange thing, we were actually (without knowing, a trucker later told us) dropped off and hitching from the exact fork-in-the-road that this happened.
__
I wrote a brief summary for an online hitching blog/community about what to do in the event of a hairy situation....It contradicts some of what I say, as I emphasize the slim chances of this going down, and that we should all be John Lennon give peace a chance, or something to that effect...but I have always said the risk is there.
Anyways, dont let it throw you off, but heres what to do when someone tries to get too close for comfort...
o o o
Ok, so youve been reading this blog for a week or so now, and have been inspired to the core on how insanely cool hitchhiking is. You stomach any doubt, and strap on a set. You feel so impusleively compelled, you run down to the basement to dig up your brothers' EuroTrip backpack, cram some clothes and Paulo Coehlo's The Alchemist into it, grab the guitar and hit the road, thumbout. Your heart is racing uncontrollably at the thought of risk and adventure. You cant beleive youre finally doing this, if Mom could only see you now. A car pokes over the horizon, and it forces so much blood through your Aorta it skips a beat.....You almost need to change your fruit-of-the-looms when it swerves to pull you over. This is the epitomy of excitement. Hes heading your way, and hes got some twangy music that makes this feel all of too right. Feelings you have never experienced overcome your brain and emotions, and you feel more free than the wild West. It all comes to a crashing halt 20 minutes down the road.
It starts when he makes an unnannounced turn to a secondary road, and starts talking in one word answers. He turns, and looks at you with a satanic eye and half grin. Panic replaces euphoria. Gulp. What have I gotten myslef into?
_________________________
Before I go any further(sorry!), I want to clarify one thing.
The risk of a dangerous situation while hitchhiking is so rare, its honestly not even worth worrying about. Although thats like saying shark diving is totally safe in the cage; youre still going to trip out about being eaten. My passion for hitching doesnt end on the highway, and I am an advocate in the movement of restoring hitchhiking, reviving it to an accepted means of travel. The negative stereotypes surrounding hitchhikers contradict my beleifs and preachings, but Im unfazed, however the risk is still evident, and should be factored in, especially when planning a solitary or extended trip.
Im not saying im the worlds most experienced hitcher/traveller. In fact, Im far from it... But I do have enough experience to give adivce to others considering their first hitching trip, or seasoned vets who want another opinion in sticky times..
ARTICLE
Ok, I have somewhat of a formula to ensure that even if I had gotten into the car with Jeffery Dahmer and some Helter Skelters, I would leave with high-fives and smiles.
1.) Dont throw your packs into the trunk, I always try to avoid it. Sometimes you cant, but try to get it in the backseat, or between your legs.
>>My only personal rule is never allow myslef to be outnumbered by males. Even if its just one more, I cannot promise myslef Id prevail in a 2 v 1 or 3 v 1 situation. Its my only rule, and I do follow it, though not every single time. I have been in the car outnumbered and luckily nothing happened, but that is because I used my discretion. The driver will always be more wary of the hitcher. Remember; they dont not have to pick you up, you rely on them, so theyre always wondering if they made the right choice. You NEED that ride, and most likely would jump in without too much hesitation.(I know I have certainly jumped in dozens of cars without a proper feel out, and scan of the car) Its never truly burned me, but Im always improving my observation with experience.
2.)It is how you portray yourslef. You are the hitchhiker, and a stranger. You can be who ever you want to be, just make sure that person is confident. (with anything in life, act like youve done it before) and that includes hitching. Youve been on the road for hundreds of rides, hundreds of creeps, ...so you mr homo-flirty pants, are nothing new.
3.)Immediately after youve entered the car, strike the conversation as you normally do. After 20 or so minutes, Ill let them very slyly know that I basically dont f*ck around, and fear isnt a concern in my mind. I do this by just letting him know some subtle details, or my interests, and I dont really have to lie. I tell them im an avid base jumper(I am)-and this usually immediately has them commenting 'youre crazy'. Numero Uno. But dont go on listing how tough you are and that youve been in a million fights. Rather, coyly throw it in the mix, when he says something like 'wow thats quite a trip, have you had any problems?' respond with something non threatening, assertive etc. such as ' the trips been amazing so far, I cant wait to see what lies ahead.' Ive sometimes spoken about my expeiences abroad, where I had to fight(glory glory man united) and I will drop a very subtle hint of this, like 'well ive had to take care of myslef once or twice before'. Never anything blunt, or threatening, just a subtle hint that if you do want to f*ck with me, im not going to turn down the chance of fun. *Mind you this is only necessary when youre feeling the conversation with the bloke to take a turn. When SoccerMom picks me up, I talk about puppies and buttons.(Not actually, but you get what I mean.) I have been in a car once or twice, where I could tell he was gay, eyeing me, or thinking some thoughts I did not wish to partake in. Its easy to divert, make yourslef less appealing. comment how much you cant wait to have that shower tonight, as its been days and you smell like a foot. How do they know you dont know the entire high school football team or a cop in the next town?
You control how the driver perceives you.
Now when I have been in a situation where they wanted to get a little out of hand, I can and have done several different things.
~In my left chest pocket(easy to access with right hand) I keep my wallet, iPod and a quality folding knife. Ive never had to actually use it, although I have brandished it. Say to them 'look man, I have cash, I just dont want trouble'. At which point you fake reach for the cash, and uncover the knife. Pedophiles and homo-rapists are the scum of all that is human, and the result is theyre the biggest p*ssies on the planet. A computer nerd would fight me to death for his keyboard, a pedohile wants to 'prey' on kids or women because hes too weak to do anything else. The minute you show hostlitlty, resistance or anything else they are not prepared for, the chances are they will immediately throw you out. If not, you have a knife pointed at him, and you *always* very calmly direct the next series of events. Remind him that unless he wants to crash his mother's 98 Grand Prix into a ditch, which you can handle no problem, he should pull over. Its all about calm, dominant and assertive, just like Ceasar Milan, the dog whisperer hahaha. but, no seriously... its how its done.
Im certainly not the biggest guy in the world, Im usually fairly clean shaven and have boyish looks. I could definately be overpowered, but its not a physical thing; its 100% mental. And if you can flip a switch to act mental, he will piss his pants. You look him directly in the eye(they wont reciprocate) and let them know if he wants to f*ck with you, he can have a go. youre just going to beat the absolute f*ck out of him in the process. He needs to keep focus on the road, wheel and his dainty face. You destroy his car, nose and busted smile, he will not conitune. I dont think they find bum sex as enjoyable when theyre bleeding profusely from the face, in so much pain they cant see or think.
If female, and he tries something, IMMEDIATELY pop him a good one on the bridge of the nose. and dont stop. Be vocal whislt throwing your bony(very painful ) fists. You, in the melee,(he will not be looking at the road) scream a cop just whizzed by. He didnt see it, and neither did you. He just thinks you saw it and this will result in him ACTUALLY shitting his pants. Never stop punching his nose, teeth and eyes. Scratch, claw and fight him as though he was going to kill you. Trust me, he isnt going to kill you, hes just focusing on getting back to his computer chair and bwankey.He is now wondering whether or not he will survive.
Ive seen what a 90lb girl is capable of if she is desperate, and it would make me second guess anything. Remember that party, Murray?
Now, the worst nightmare for a hitcher; Ive had one. A big, strong, ex-football type wearing his Tapout shirt who thinks hippies are peices of sh*t, and funny to f*ck with. I dont really look like a hippie in my Helly Hansen, but I have long hair, sometimes tied back, and I hitch, a hippie thing to do. He wants any money you have and your iPod, becuase hes just returned from the gym, and is too much of a p*ssy to fight someone his size at a bar. Oblidge, pretend youre going to comply. Again, the hidden knife will throw him off. He doesnt have one, trust me.
I was in a car when this exact situation happened. He even jumped on the phone to scare me; tell me his buddies were waiting up at the light. I calmly replied good, then they will see your hacked up face you f*cking pussy. and I motioned to grab his head(hes still driving at 90) and with my far hand, slowly let him see the knife was open. He slammed on the brakes and it jerked me forward. Before he got a chance to do a single thing but cry(he did, he was so scared) I jumped out of the stopped car. I didnt run away, instead I was so angry, I turned, smashed the passenger window with the butt of the knife, and told him I knew his car (of course an Integra)and plate number, and that he should f*ck off while he still had the legs to carry him. (Brad Pitt in Snatch, baby). He was about 26, 220lbs. I was 21, 155lbs and I had him crying like the nancy he was. He apologized and drove away slowly. I was in shock, among other emotions, but it was still a bummer. One v one, no knife, he probably would have destroyed me. I could tell he trained MMA, but like the majority of those c*nts, he failed to realized fighting is 90% mental, only 10% physical. I had won the mental battle, and he didnt know what the eff just happened. His friends were never waiting, instead I think he went home and cried his little eyes out.
This story will be written in more detail as the story continues. It was not during my trek out west, rather it happened while I was out there.
Again, you control how you are perceived to the driver.
The odds of anything like this happening are so minute, it can't paralyze your fears of travelling. It happened in Canada, and Im off to work with Child Soldiers....so....
And most of the time, after these attacks, our reactions are the best rehabilitation for these monsters. It trumps over jails etc. Once some creepy 44yr odl peddy just has the absolute cork beaten out of him, he isnt going to try it again for a long mofo-ing time.
I pray these things dont happen to us hitchers, restoring faith in humanity and strangers. But if they do, stay calm. He has no idea what hes doing either, and you do.
and that being said; the issue of THE LAW.
Its true, chances are most of us hitchers have some sort of minor prior, which doesnt matter in the eyes of a rookie cop.
The driver could have robbed, raped and beaten you up, you are still the hitchiker in his new Mazda. Its always an uphill battle if the police are involved and youre hitching, and to put your self into the mercy of the law(worst thing of life) for a situation in which you are truly the victim is the worst. It goes without saying to avoid it at all costs, but sometimes; its unavoidable.
Even if youve beaten him up, wrecked/crashed his car, he was still at the intial fault, as you were reacting, not acting. He wont go to the police and tell them anything.
If he does, its an awful situation, your word vs his. Account Manager vs hippie hitchiker, always a difficult feat to overcome. Though, honestly usually prevails in my eyes....-even with the law.
If its gotten so bad somebody needs medical attention; provide it, anonymously. If someone needs to go to jail, use your discretion, as invovling the police can seriously hampen a hitch trip.
These are all 'what ifs' in the extreme of cases, and seldom ever happen. but when they do, trusting your instincts and remaining calm is the bottom line.
and f*ck the police, smiley face.
o o o
Ok, so Ill let you digest that yummyness. I know its going to raise some brows, and have you wondering about it all...but heres something else from the other side of the fence...
Let Me Stay For A Day.
later skater..
__
I wrote a brief summary for an online hitching blog/community about what to do in the event of a hairy situation....It contradicts some of what I say, as I emphasize the slim chances of this going down, and that we should all be John Lennon give peace a chance, or something to that effect...but I have always said the risk is there.
Anyways, dont let it throw you off, but heres what to do when someone tries to get too close for comfort...
o o o
Ok, so youve been reading this blog for a week or so now, and have been inspired to the core on how insanely cool hitchhiking is. You stomach any doubt, and strap on a set. You feel so impusleively compelled, you run down to the basement to dig up your brothers' EuroTrip backpack, cram some clothes and Paulo Coehlo's The Alchemist into it, grab the guitar and hit the road, thumbout. Your heart is racing uncontrollably at the thought of risk and adventure. You cant beleive youre finally doing this, if Mom could only see you now. A car pokes over the horizon, and it forces so much blood through your Aorta it skips a beat.....You almost need to change your fruit-of-the-looms when it swerves to pull you over. This is the epitomy of excitement. Hes heading your way, and hes got some twangy music that makes this feel all of too right. Feelings you have never experienced overcome your brain and emotions, and you feel more free than the wild West. It all comes to a crashing halt 20 minutes down the road.
It starts when he makes an unnannounced turn to a secondary road, and starts talking in one word answers. He turns, and looks at you with a satanic eye and half grin. Panic replaces euphoria. Gulp. What have I gotten myslef into?
_________________________
Before I go any further(sorry!), I want to clarify one thing.
The risk of a dangerous situation while hitchhiking is so rare, its honestly not even worth worrying about. Although thats like saying shark diving is totally safe in the cage; youre still going to trip out about being eaten. My passion for hitching doesnt end on the highway, and I am an advocate in the movement of restoring hitchhiking, reviving it to an accepted means of travel. The negative stereotypes surrounding hitchhikers contradict my beleifs and preachings, but Im unfazed, however the risk is still evident, and should be factored in, especially when planning a solitary or extended trip.
Im not saying im the worlds most experienced hitcher/traveller. In fact, Im far from it... But I do have enough experience to give adivce to others considering their first hitching trip, or seasoned vets who want another opinion in sticky times..
ARTICLE
Ok, I have somewhat of a formula to ensure that even if I had gotten into the car with Jeffery Dahmer and some Helter Skelters, I would leave with high-fives and smiles.
1.) Dont throw your packs into the trunk, I always try to avoid it. Sometimes you cant, but try to get it in the backseat, or between your legs.
>>My only personal rule is never allow myslef to be outnumbered by males. Even if its just one more, I cannot promise myslef Id prevail in a 2 v 1 or 3 v 1 situation. Its my only rule, and I do follow it, though not every single time. I have been in the car outnumbered and luckily nothing happened, but that is because I used my discretion. The driver will always be more wary of the hitcher. Remember; they dont not have to pick you up, you rely on them, so theyre always wondering if they made the right choice. You NEED that ride, and most likely would jump in without too much hesitation.(I know I have certainly jumped in dozens of cars without a proper feel out, and scan of the car) Its never truly burned me, but Im always improving my observation with experience.
2.)It is how you portray yourslef. You are the hitchhiker, and a stranger. You can be who ever you want to be, just make sure that person is confident. (with anything in life, act like youve done it before) and that includes hitching. Youve been on the road for hundreds of rides, hundreds of creeps, ...so you mr homo-flirty pants, are nothing new.
3.)Immediately after youve entered the car, strike the conversation as you normally do. After 20 or so minutes, Ill let them very slyly know that I basically dont f*ck around, and fear isnt a concern in my mind. I do this by just letting him know some subtle details, or my interests, and I dont really have to lie. I tell them im an avid base jumper(I am)-and this usually immediately has them commenting 'youre crazy'. Numero Uno. But dont go on listing how tough you are and that youve been in a million fights. Rather, coyly throw it in the mix, when he says something like 'wow thats quite a trip, have you had any problems?' respond with something non threatening, assertive etc. such as ' the trips been amazing so far, I cant wait to see what lies ahead.' Ive sometimes spoken about my expeiences abroad, where I had to fight(glory glory man united) and I will drop a very subtle hint of this, like 'well ive had to take care of myslef once or twice before'. Never anything blunt, or threatening, just a subtle hint that if you do want to f*ck with me, im not going to turn down the chance of fun. *Mind you this is only necessary when youre feeling the conversation with the bloke to take a turn. When SoccerMom picks me up, I talk about puppies and buttons.(Not actually, but you get what I mean.) I have been in a car once or twice, where I could tell he was gay, eyeing me, or thinking some thoughts I did not wish to partake in. Its easy to divert, make yourslef less appealing. comment how much you cant wait to have that shower tonight, as its been days and you smell like a foot. How do they know you dont know the entire high school football team or a cop in the next town?
You control how the driver perceives you.
Now when I have been in a situation where they wanted to get a little out of hand, I can and have done several different things.
~In my left chest pocket(easy to access with right hand) I keep my wallet, iPod and a quality folding knife. Ive never had to actually use it, although I have brandished it. Say to them 'look man, I have cash, I just dont want trouble'. At which point you fake reach for the cash, and uncover the knife. Pedophiles and homo-rapists are the scum of all that is human, and the result is theyre the biggest p*ssies on the planet. A computer nerd would fight me to death for his keyboard, a pedohile wants to 'prey' on kids or women because hes too weak to do anything else. The minute you show hostlitlty, resistance or anything else they are not prepared for, the chances are they will immediately throw you out. If not, you have a knife pointed at him, and you *always* very calmly direct the next series of events. Remind him that unless he wants to crash his mother's 98 Grand Prix into a ditch, which you can handle no problem, he should pull over. Its all about calm, dominant and assertive, just like Ceasar Milan, the dog whisperer hahaha. but, no seriously... its how its done.
Im certainly not the biggest guy in the world, Im usually fairly clean shaven and have boyish looks. I could definately be overpowered, but its not a physical thing; its 100% mental. And if you can flip a switch to act mental, he will piss his pants. You look him directly in the eye(they wont reciprocate) and let them know if he wants to f*ck with you, he can have a go. youre just going to beat the absolute f*ck out of him in the process. He needs to keep focus on the road, wheel and his dainty face. You destroy his car, nose and busted smile, he will not conitune. I dont think they find bum sex as enjoyable when theyre bleeding profusely from the face, in so much pain they cant see or think.
If female, and he tries something, IMMEDIATELY pop him a good one on the bridge of the nose. and dont stop. Be vocal whislt throwing your bony(very painful ) fists. You, in the melee,(he will not be looking at the road) scream a cop just whizzed by. He didnt see it, and neither did you. He just thinks you saw it and this will result in him ACTUALLY shitting his pants. Never stop punching his nose, teeth and eyes. Scratch, claw and fight him as though he was going to kill you. Trust me, he isnt going to kill you, hes just focusing on getting back to his computer chair and bwankey.He is now wondering whether or not he will survive.
Ive seen what a 90lb girl is capable of if she is desperate, and it would make me second guess anything. Remember that party, Murray?
Now, the worst nightmare for a hitcher; Ive had one. A big, strong, ex-football type wearing his Tapout shirt who thinks hippies are peices of sh*t, and funny to f*ck with. I dont really look like a hippie in my Helly Hansen, but I have long hair, sometimes tied back, and I hitch, a hippie thing to do. He wants any money you have and your iPod, becuase hes just returned from the gym, and is too much of a p*ssy to fight someone his size at a bar. Oblidge, pretend youre going to comply. Again, the hidden knife will throw him off. He doesnt have one, trust me.
I was in a car when this exact situation happened. He even jumped on the phone to scare me; tell me his buddies were waiting up at the light. I calmly replied good, then they will see your hacked up face you f*cking pussy. and I motioned to grab his head(hes still driving at 90) and with my far hand, slowly let him see the knife was open. He slammed on the brakes and it jerked me forward. Before he got a chance to do a single thing but cry(he did, he was so scared) I jumped out of the stopped car. I didnt run away, instead I was so angry, I turned, smashed the passenger window with the butt of the knife, and told him I knew his car (of course an Integra)and plate number, and that he should f*ck off while he still had the legs to carry him. (Brad Pitt in Snatch, baby). He was about 26, 220lbs. I was 21, 155lbs and I had him crying like the nancy he was. He apologized and drove away slowly. I was in shock, among other emotions, but it was still a bummer. One v one, no knife, he probably would have destroyed me. I could tell he trained MMA, but like the majority of those c*nts, he failed to realized fighting is 90% mental, only 10% physical. I had won the mental battle, and he didnt know what the eff just happened. His friends were never waiting, instead I think he went home and cried his little eyes out.
This story will be written in more detail as the story continues. It was not during my trek out west, rather it happened while I was out there.
Again, you control how you are perceived to the driver.
The odds of anything like this happening are so minute, it can't paralyze your fears of travelling. It happened in Canada, and Im off to work with Child Soldiers....so....
And most of the time, after these attacks, our reactions are the best rehabilitation for these monsters. It trumps over jails etc. Once some creepy 44yr odl peddy just has the absolute cork beaten out of him, he isnt going to try it again for a long mofo-ing time.
I pray these things dont happen to us hitchers, restoring faith in humanity and strangers. But if they do, stay calm. He has no idea what hes doing either, and you do.
and that being said; the issue of THE LAW.
Its true, chances are most of us hitchers have some sort of minor prior, which doesnt matter in the eyes of a rookie cop.
The driver could have robbed, raped and beaten you up, you are still the hitchiker in his new Mazda. Its always an uphill battle if the police are involved and youre hitching, and to put your self into the mercy of the law(worst thing of life) for a situation in which you are truly the victim is the worst. It goes without saying to avoid it at all costs, but sometimes; its unavoidable.
Even if youve beaten him up, wrecked/crashed his car, he was still at the intial fault, as you were reacting, not acting. He wont go to the police and tell them anything.
If he does, its an awful situation, your word vs his. Account Manager vs hippie hitchiker, always a difficult feat to overcome. Though, honestly usually prevails in my eyes....-even with the law.
If its gotten so bad somebody needs medical attention; provide it, anonymously. If someone needs to go to jail, use your discretion, as invovling the police can seriously hampen a hitch trip.
These are all 'what ifs' in the extreme of cases, and seldom ever happen. but when they do, trusting your instincts and remaining calm is the bottom line.
and f*ck the police, smiley face.
o o o
Ok, so Ill let you digest that yummyness. I know its going to raise some brows, and have you wondering about it all...but heres something else from the other side of the fence...
Let Me Stay For A Day.
later skater..
Ludovic Hubler
Michael Jordan to basketball, Gretzky to hockey, you get the point. Not that hitchhiking or hitchikers can be compared to world class athletes, but this guy was the one who grabbed hitchhiking by the bollocks, and created a media frenzy and massive appeal.
Ludovic Hubler was in 1977, in the northeast of France. He decided to do a world circumnavigation without leaving the surface.->coolest shite ever. He left his family and home in Jan 1, 2003, and set out to hitchhike across Europe, Asia, Africa, and the North, Central and South Americas. Transportation was solely reliant on hitching cars and boats. It was initially a heavily covered event in Europe, as the idea seemed somewhat ludicrous. The dude made headlines before, when in a hitchhiking race he advertised as having only €5. He made it across, beating all of the competitors and cheekily flashed the same five Euros at the finish line. He ended up successfully hitching around the world, finishing recently. Its probably one of the greatest concepts in travel Ive heard of. Pretty crazy, but pretty remarkable. He evaded corrupt cops, gangsters, mobs, wild animals, the whole lot. It is refreshing to see however, as we are a society too afraid to go anywhere or do anything, and here is a Gringo hitching all over the place, unscathed. His motive was to circumnavigate without spending a penny on transportation. He was very successful. It wouldn't be my driving force, but a brilliant idea.
His website.
Ludovic Hubler was in 1977, in the northeast of France. He decided to do a world circumnavigation without leaving the surface.->coolest shite ever. He left his family and home in Jan 1, 2003, and set out to hitchhike across Europe, Asia, Africa, and the North, Central and South Americas. Transportation was solely reliant on hitching cars and boats. It was initially a heavily covered event in Europe, as the idea seemed somewhat ludicrous. The dude made headlines before, when in a hitchhiking race he advertised as having only €5. He made it across, beating all of the competitors and cheekily flashed the same five Euros at the finish line. He ended up successfully hitching around the world, finishing recently. Its probably one of the greatest concepts in travel Ive heard of. Pretty crazy, but pretty remarkable. He evaded corrupt cops, gangsters, mobs, wild animals, the whole lot. It is refreshing to see however, as we are a society too afraid to go anywhere or do anything, and here is a Gringo hitching all over the place, unscathed. His motive was to circumnavigate without spending a penny on transportation. He was very successful. It wouldn't be my driving force, but a brilliant idea.
His website.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Errrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaa. The Remix.
OK, so thus far ze blog has been my account of hitching across Canada this past summer. I wrote a brief rant at the beginning, but its been primarily long regurgitations of my journey. I am stoked to hear of friends, or strangers alike reading my blog and enjoying the stories, but I find that alot of them have been on the long side, and most people these days, with their short attention spans (blame rap music) prefer brief reads. Well, brief reads is what you will get, with the option to click and read further stories.
This does, however, mean more sarcasm, less detail, direct points and more ranting. Yay!
Im also going to look at changing the format, and making it more visually appealing to you, so its like a picture book, just like in grade school. Words are bowwing, we want mo' pichows. Otay, pictures you will get.
its 1:24 am and Im just getting started...
This does, however, mean more sarcasm, less detail, direct points and more ranting. Yay!
Im also going to look at changing the format, and making it more visually appealing to you, so its like a picture book, just like in grade school. Words are bowwing, we want mo' pichows. Otay, pictures you will get.
its 1:24 am and Im just getting started...
OMG OMG OMG We picked up hitchers OMG OMG OMG
Sturgeon Falls is a small Ontario town with nothing to offer. Forgive me for being a critical bastard, but the whole town had nothing but gas stations and old people. The entire town is on the local lake, and it would probably be great if you had a boat, which I think everyone did, as they were towed behind their pickup trucks. So maybe it was a great little Ontario town, only as a boat owner.
We posted up outside the local library, and took turns hitching, while the other ran into check their emails. The town is like many of its kind, and has one main street running through the 'downtown'. This allowed each and every resident of this place a chance to pass us. It seemed like people were friendly enough to wave or point and smile, but noone wanted to stop.
While we were waiting, a few teens approached us, asking if we wanted to buy some pot. We told them no spanks, but they were really insisting we try what was apparently 'the best this town sees'. These boys weren't the brightest of sorts, and I could tell they were intrigued by some hitchers from a new place, as they were lingering, everyones favourite. They were on their way to take one of their boats out wakeboarding. It inspired me, and I proposed a deal to them; take us wakeboarding for the afternoon, and we will buy some pot. Not a very mutually beneficial deal, but that's resourcing for you.
I don't want to go into great detail of the boat trip because it was highly uneventful. We found little to talk about, and had many awkward silences. The wakeboarding was fun, and although I'm not very good, I was better than most of them, which I found to be pretty amusing. Id be lying to say I didn't have some fun. I usually find that people who consume marijuana(potheads, straight up) to be friendly, social people who like to talk, and can talk/relate about anything. It also allows me to usually relate to a broad spectrum in the demographic pool. Not that Im a huge pothead, but I dabble. I always thought most of the consumers were cool, But not these guys, they sucked. We ended up refusing to buy their weed, which only made them give us some free samples. They brought us back to the library, and we thanked them acting like we were new best friends. I remember as soon as they left, Mike sarcastically, matter-of-factly announced 'Those guys were fucking douchebags'. The way he emphasized douchebags continues to make me laugh today. After everything, we got to get out on a lake, and they were still nice enough to have taken us out and toss us beers for the ride.
We decided to leave the library spot, and crossed a bridge over the local hyrdodam which provided us with some really nice sights. We walked to the last buildings of the Sturgeon Falls metropolis(extreme sarcasm) and rested on the lush grass of a car dealership. I improvised a great sign after asking the dealership manager for an old car ad. The white plastic served as an erasable whiteboard, so we had fun writing things to some unfortunate passersby. (It was sarcasm, not being meanies. Things like "r.i.p. Michael Jackson" and "we showered today") We then drew an elaborate mountain scene with the bold words "ADVENTURE TRAVELLERS." The newfie and I certainly looked the part in our Helly Hansen jackets and North Face packs. It immediately attracted several smiles, waves and curious gawks from the new prospective drivers. Mike and I noticed the reception to our sign, and for the remainder of our trip we would use these two words on every sign.
It didn't take long until a car slowed noticeably in front of us and turned around the corner to stop. A young blonde girl came running towards us, arms-a-flailin' yelling to jump in.
We actually ditched that sign-of-all-signs there, and hoped in.
The car was already full of stuff and we had to do some shuffling to get everything in. We played a game of rucksack Tetris and made it work.
They introduced themselves as Shawn and Kathie. They were a young couple from a small town nearby, and were on their way home from visiting family. They were a good couple, young, and clearly in love. And boy, were they friggen thrilled to pick up two hitchhikers. They told us they had travelled together almost a year ago, doing the touristy thing in mainstream Europe, and were both working to save for their next trip. It was refreshing to see two young people in small towns passionate about travelling. I meet travellers each and everyday, but in some spots, you can tell people have never and will never leave the comforts of their tiny towns. We told them of our travels, and they revelled. The conversation topics didnt stray far from vagabonding, and it was great. I personally enjoy hearing about people's first travel experiences, because I find them to be much more passionate and enthusiastic when reminiscing. Although they like many take the Mickey Mouse routes of safety and familiar sites, they did enjoy it, and I enjoyed hearing about it.
I can remember it starting to rain, and although the site of this was a bigger bummer than bad tan lines, we rolled with that punch. They offered a place to stay for the night, and promised to fill our grumbling bellies, but we declined immediately, as there was still several hours of daylight, and we were itching to get the eff out of Ontario. I don't think I have yet mentioned, but after treeplanting we went to Sudbury to stay at a friends house before Greyhounding to Ottawa for Canada Day, so in our eyes we were still in the red zone, as we had not yet surpassed a potential initial jumpoff point.
We continued our conversation about the world, teenagers and their (our) decline. We had made it to the outskirts of Sudbury, and were almost starting our trip of at km Zero, as our previous 420km (actually the distance) was still a backtrack.
They dropped us off on the side of the highway before their exit and it was still pouring. They were adamant on getting our contact information, and we exchanged info, said our thank yous and once again, parted ways with the inspired drivers.
Its funny how hitchhiking is followed by such negative stereotypes, yet the ones who do not let their fears paralyze them could not be more enthusiastic and cheery when interacting. Some are borderline insistent on us accepting their offers of free meals and couches. I love it. If I had a nickel for every man who told me he lives vicariously through me, Id for sure be able to by a yummy McDicks fix, everyday.
The young couple waved as they drove off, and I could see the girl looking back until out of sight. It was kind of funny.
Mike and I walked through a cool stretch of highway, blasted through the rock cliffs. We cracked a box of Oreos, chowed down and reflected on where we were. Pretty cliche, but we were still on a buzz and enjoying life, and its vanilla centres.
We posted up outside the local library, and took turns hitching, while the other ran into check their emails. The town is like many of its kind, and has one main street running through the 'downtown'. This allowed each and every resident of this place a chance to pass us. It seemed like people were friendly enough to wave or point and smile, but noone wanted to stop.
While we were waiting, a few teens approached us, asking if we wanted to buy some pot. We told them no spanks, but they were really insisting we try what was apparently 'the best this town sees'. These boys weren't the brightest of sorts, and I could tell they were intrigued by some hitchers from a new place, as they were lingering, everyones favourite. They were on their way to take one of their boats out wakeboarding. It inspired me, and I proposed a deal to them; take us wakeboarding for the afternoon, and we will buy some pot. Not a very mutually beneficial deal, but that's resourcing for you.
I don't want to go into great detail of the boat trip because it was highly uneventful. We found little to talk about, and had many awkward silences. The wakeboarding was fun, and although I'm not very good, I was better than most of them, which I found to be pretty amusing. Id be lying to say I didn't have some fun. I usually find that people who consume marijuana(potheads, straight up) to be friendly, social people who like to talk, and can talk/relate about anything. It also allows me to usually relate to a broad spectrum in the demographic pool. Not that Im a huge pothead, but I dabble. I always thought most of the consumers were cool, But not these guys, they sucked. We ended up refusing to buy their weed, which only made them give us some free samples. They brought us back to the library, and we thanked them acting like we were new best friends. I remember as soon as they left, Mike sarcastically, matter-of-factly announced 'Those guys were fucking douchebags'. The way he emphasized douchebags continues to make me laugh today. After everything, we got to get out on a lake, and they were still nice enough to have taken us out and toss us beers for the ride.
We decided to leave the library spot, and crossed a bridge over the local hyrdodam which provided us with some really nice sights. We walked to the last buildings of the Sturgeon Falls metropolis(extreme sarcasm) and rested on the lush grass of a car dealership. I improvised a great sign after asking the dealership manager for an old car ad. The white plastic served as an erasable whiteboard, so we had fun writing things to some unfortunate passersby. (It was sarcasm, not being meanies. Things like "r.i.p. Michael Jackson" and "we showered today") We then drew an elaborate mountain scene with the bold words "ADVENTURE TRAVELLERS." The newfie and I certainly looked the part in our Helly Hansen jackets and North Face packs. It immediately attracted several smiles, waves and curious gawks from the new prospective drivers. Mike and I noticed the reception to our sign, and for the remainder of our trip we would use these two words on every sign.
It didn't take long until a car slowed noticeably in front of us and turned around the corner to stop. A young blonde girl came running towards us, arms-a-flailin' yelling to jump in.
We actually ditched that sign-of-all-signs there, and hoped in.
The car was already full of stuff and we had to do some shuffling to get everything in. We played a game of rucksack Tetris and made it work.
They introduced themselves as Shawn and Kathie. They were a young couple from a small town nearby, and were on their way home from visiting family. They were a good couple, young, and clearly in love. And boy, were they friggen thrilled to pick up two hitchhikers. They told us they had travelled together almost a year ago, doing the touristy thing in mainstream Europe, and were both working to save for their next trip. It was refreshing to see two young people in small towns passionate about travelling. I meet travellers each and everyday, but in some spots, you can tell people have never and will never leave the comforts of their tiny towns. We told them of our travels, and they revelled. The conversation topics didnt stray far from vagabonding, and it was great. I personally enjoy hearing about people's first travel experiences, because I find them to be much more passionate and enthusiastic when reminiscing. Although they like many take the Mickey Mouse routes of safety and familiar sites, they did enjoy it, and I enjoyed hearing about it.
I can remember it starting to rain, and although the site of this was a bigger bummer than bad tan lines, we rolled with that punch. They offered a place to stay for the night, and promised to fill our grumbling bellies, but we declined immediately, as there was still several hours of daylight, and we were itching to get the eff out of Ontario. I don't think I have yet mentioned, but after treeplanting we went to Sudbury to stay at a friends house before Greyhounding to Ottawa for Canada Day, so in our eyes we were still in the red zone, as we had not yet surpassed a potential initial jumpoff point.
We continued our conversation about the world, teenagers and their (our) decline. We had made it to the outskirts of Sudbury, and were almost starting our trip of at km Zero, as our previous 420km (actually the distance) was still a backtrack.
They dropped us off on the side of the highway before their exit and it was still pouring. They were adamant on getting our contact information, and we exchanged info, said our thank yous and once again, parted ways with the inspired drivers.
Its funny how hitchhiking is followed by such negative stereotypes, yet the ones who do not let their fears paralyze them could not be more enthusiastic and cheery when interacting. Some are borderline insistent on us accepting their offers of free meals and couches. I love it. If I had a nickel for every man who told me he lives vicariously through me, Id for sure be able to by a yummy McDicks fix, everyday.
The young couple waved as they drove off, and I could see the girl looking back until out of sight. It was kind of funny.
Mike and I walked through a cool stretch of highway, blasted through the rock cliffs. We cracked a box of Oreos, chowed down and reflected on where we were. Pretty cliche, but we were still on a buzz and enjoying life, and its vanilla centres.
Monday, December 14, 2009
First Timers and Seasoned Veterans.
After a night we were trying to forget, we awoke to a wet, rain soaked tent and sleeping bags at what we figured was a decent hour. In hindsight, I remember not even being that grumpy, or frustrated. As crappy as our current situation was, we were on the road, and that cancelled any negative vibes we might have had.
Mike and I packed our belongings, reminded Walmart where they can stick it, and headed for some breakfast. We didnt have time to sit down to a proper meal, so we opted for the classic; McDonalds, which would prove to be a staple part of our diet as Mike and I both had a very serious love affair with 'the Don's'.
We finally made it to the highway at roughly 1030ish. It was still grey and miserable and the rain had soaked everything thoroughly. We also didnt find oursleves at a good spot on the highway, so we walked a few kilometers with our stuff to an on-ramp.
Despite everything, we were both in good moods, and were desperate to get the fudge out of Hunstville. No offense, but that place was about as appealing as a punch in the mouth. We could still feel how close we were to the start point and we were dying to change the scenery. We made our first sign, stating simply; "BC". Yeah, I know, we are creatively brilliant.
I dont know what it is in Ontario, but everyone acts like they're American or something....They drive by with their twisted scowls, judging stares and closed minds. They stare, mouth agap, as if they were looking at some astounding firework display or something. But its not a beauty stare like an insect flying towards the 'bright light'. Its more like a deer caught in headlights. "What the f*ck is that?" I can almost hear them asking, as if they had never seen a hitchhiker before.
It took us an agonizing 3.5 hours to get our first nibble. And nibble it was... a jeep swerved over for us, looked like a few young guys and their girls or something. As soon as I started to approach the jeep, they sped off, laughing and screaming at us. Not only was it beyond frustrating at that point, but I didnt know how else to feel. Que angry string of profanities skyward. As pissed as I was at those kids for doing that, whatever. I had done it in the car with friends before, and it was just another harsh lesson in the life of a hitchhiker. You have to be ready and willing to accept crap like that. It doesnt happen often, but it happens.
I was digging through my backpack for something when Mike yelled 'finally!'
I looked up, and sure enough, a guy around our age in what was clearly his parents old cadillac had pulled over for us. I remember there was rap blaring and I smiled, because I knew it would be a ride I could maybe sleep a bit in.
We tossed our gear in the trunk and hopped in. His name was Jason and he was on his way from Barrie to North Bay to visit his girlfriend. He does the trip alone often, and had NEVER picked up a hitchhiker. I was shocked when I heard this, as he was pretty relaxed with two dudes in his car, and for someone who doesnt do this, I was very surprised. Not only that, but he decided his first hitch would be with two guys bigger than him.
Jason was a quiet kid from a small town. He was our age and had never left Ontario. He lived with his Grandmother and visited his girlfriend on weekends. It wasnt my ideal lifestyle, but he was happy. However, he was blown away by our story, and the fact we were so well travelled. I think the fact we were his same age struck home, as he didnt say much, just listened aside from the odd 'thats so sick!' comments. I remember when Jason called his girl and put her on speaker to tell her he had picked up two hitchers. Her reaction was priceless, as it reiterated everything we had been thinking all along. She told him he was insane and that we were going to chop his head off. He told her how cool he thought we were and that we should meet her. She said, and I quote; "No f*cking way!"
North Bay wasnt very far away, and we arrived after about an hour of driving. He took us to the local mall, and we all went and grabbed a quick bite to eat, as we were starving by that point. It was McDonalds again. Yeah, thats right, we double dip.
When we split ways in the food court, it was easy to see Jason was almost torn leaving us. I dont want to judge, but it seemed like he maybe didnt have the biggest list of friends to choose from, and he kept talking to us, as if just to keep us around. Jason was a cool guy and all, just a little awkward. We went to the car, grabbed our belongings and headed out with our medium cokes.
Mike and I now had a seriously awful walk up 3 big hills to cross the city. We were on the East side of town, and had to get approx 7km to the far West side, the best chance to get a ride out.
We walked in the beating July sun, up the hills and to our spot. By that point, both of our panties' were in serious knots, and we werent happy campers. We indugled in a very large roadside stinky cigarette, and that made things much better. We did however fail to realize the Police station 40m away and were lucky to avoid any trouble.
We didnt wait too long(maybe it was the dandelions) but we finally got our ride. A lively construction worker name Mauricio in a pickup truck stopped for us. He had just finished his shift as a crane operator and was heading home, a small town just outside of North Bay. He picks up hitchers everytime he sees one, and you could tell. He loved it!
He told me to open the cooler beside me and grab us three beers. Even though Mike and I knew it was clearly illegal, we would never pay a price for this offence, and went along with it. He cheered our beers and told us a few stories. Mauricio was a great character. He was an Italian man hidden behind a big, burly moustache and he laughed at all his own jokes. He opened up to us immediately and told us a bunch of stories from his 'wild child' days. His tales were entertaining, and we swapped a few of our own.
This is one of the greatest mysteries of hitchhiking. How complete strangers can be so willing to open their personal stories and life events to complete strangers after 10 minutes of knowing them.
Mauricio asked us if it was ok that he stopped at the Indian Reserve to stock up on more cigarettes. He surprised us by throwing a carton on Mikes lap, declaring it was 'for the road'.
Although neither of us were actual smokers(we only did it when the going got really tough, like every waking minute treeplanting) we accepted his gesture. We knew we could sell these, or give them to appreciative, actual smokers.
Maurico took us into a his hometown, Sturgeon Falls. He drove us to the end we needed to get to, and dropped us off.
Right before we shook hands and parted, he pulled out a joint, and gave it to me. He told me that he wanted us to enjoy it that night, and he wished us well.
Mauricio was a man who most people would see and immediately tell he was a trademan, and probably didnt have alot of money. What they wouldnt be able to tell is that he was just about as nice as they get, and had lived a very impressive life. It was just another confirmation of my belief in hitchhike travelling.
Another town, another ride. Another great story to tell.
Mike and I packed our belongings, reminded Walmart where they can stick it, and headed for some breakfast. We didnt have time to sit down to a proper meal, so we opted for the classic; McDonalds, which would prove to be a staple part of our diet as Mike and I both had a very serious love affair with 'the Don's'.
We finally made it to the highway at roughly 1030ish. It was still grey and miserable and the rain had soaked everything thoroughly. We also didnt find oursleves at a good spot on the highway, so we walked a few kilometers with our stuff to an on-ramp.
Despite everything, we were both in good moods, and were desperate to get the fudge out of Hunstville. No offense, but that place was about as appealing as a punch in the mouth. We could still feel how close we were to the start point and we were dying to change the scenery. We made our first sign, stating simply; "BC". Yeah, I know, we are creatively brilliant.
I dont know what it is in Ontario, but everyone acts like they're American or something....They drive by with their twisted scowls, judging stares and closed minds. They stare, mouth agap, as if they were looking at some astounding firework display or something. But its not a beauty stare like an insect flying towards the 'bright light'. Its more like a deer caught in headlights. "What the f*ck is that?" I can almost hear them asking, as if they had never seen a hitchhiker before.
It took us an agonizing 3.5 hours to get our first nibble. And nibble it was... a jeep swerved over for us, looked like a few young guys and their girls or something. As soon as I started to approach the jeep, they sped off, laughing and screaming at us. Not only was it beyond frustrating at that point, but I didnt know how else to feel. Que angry string of profanities skyward. As pissed as I was at those kids for doing that, whatever. I had done it in the car with friends before, and it was just another harsh lesson in the life of a hitchhiker. You have to be ready and willing to accept crap like that. It doesnt happen often, but it happens.
I was digging through my backpack for something when Mike yelled 'finally!'
I looked up, and sure enough, a guy around our age in what was clearly his parents old cadillac had pulled over for us. I remember there was rap blaring and I smiled, because I knew it would be a ride I could maybe sleep a bit in.
We tossed our gear in the trunk and hopped in. His name was Jason and he was on his way from Barrie to North Bay to visit his girlfriend. He does the trip alone often, and had NEVER picked up a hitchhiker. I was shocked when I heard this, as he was pretty relaxed with two dudes in his car, and for someone who doesnt do this, I was very surprised. Not only that, but he decided his first hitch would be with two guys bigger than him.
Jason was a quiet kid from a small town. He was our age and had never left Ontario. He lived with his Grandmother and visited his girlfriend on weekends. It wasnt my ideal lifestyle, but he was happy. However, he was blown away by our story, and the fact we were so well travelled. I think the fact we were his same age struck home, as he didnt say much, just listened aside from the odd 'thats so sick!' comments. I remember when Jason called his girl and put her on speaker to tell her he had picked up two hitchers. Her reaction was priceless, as it reiterated everything we had been thinking all along. She told him he was insane and that we were going to chop his head off. He told her how cool he thought we were and that we should meet her. She said, and I quote; "No f*cking way!"
North Bay wasnt very far away, and we arrived after about an hour of driving. He took us to the local mall, and we all went and grabbed a quick bite to eat, as we were starving by that point. It was McDonalds again. Yeah, thats right, we double dip.
When we split ways in the food court, it was easy to see Jason was almost torn leaving us. I dont want to judge, but it seemed like he maybe didnt have the biggest list of friends to choose from, and he kept talking to us, as if just to keep us around. Jason was a cool guy and all, just a little awkward. We went to the car, grabbed our belongings and headed out with our medium cokes.
Mike and I now had a seriously awful walk up 3 big hills to cross the city. We were on the East side of town, and had to get approx 7km to the far West side, the best chance to get a ride out.
We walked in the beating July sun, up the hills and to our spot. By that point, both of our panties' were in serious knots, and we werent happy campers. We indugled in a very large roadside stinky cigarette, and that made things much better. We did however fail to realize the Police station 40m away and were lucky to avoid any trouble.
We didnt wait too long(maybe it was the dandelions) but we finally got our ride. A lively construction worker name Mauricio in a pickup truck stopped for us. He had just finished his shift as a crane operator and was heading home, a small town just outside of North Bay. He picks up hitchers everytime he sees one, and you could tell. He loved it!
He told me to open the cooler beside me and grab us three beers. Even though Mike and I knew it was clearly illegal, we would never pay a price for this offence, and went along with it. He cheered our beers and told us a few stories. Mauricio was a great character. He was an Italian man hidden behind a big, burly moustache and he laughed at all his own jokes. He opened up to us immediately and told us a bunch of stories from his 'wild child' days. His tales were entertaining, and we swapped a few of our own.
This is one of the greatest mysteries of hitchhiking. How complete strangers can be so willing to open their personal stories and life events to complete strangers after 10 minutes of knowing them.
Mauricio asked us if it was ok that he stopped at the Indian Reserve to stock up on more cigarettes. He surprised us by throwing a carton on Mikes lap, declaring it was 'for the road'.
Although neither of us were actual smokers(we only did it when the going got really tough, like every waking minute treeplanting) we accepted his gesture. We knew we could sell these, or give them to appreciative, actual smokers.
Maurico took us into a his hometown, Sturgeon Falls. He drove us to the end we needed to get to, and dropped us off.
Right before we shook hands and parted, he pulled out a joint, and gave it to me. He told me that he wanted us to enjoy it that night, and he wished us well.
Mauricio was a man who most people would see and immediately tell he was a trademan, and probably didnt have alot of money. What they wouldnt be able to tell is that he was just about as nice as they get, and had lived a very impressive life. It was just another confirmation of my belief in hitchhike travelling.
Another town, another ride. Another great story to tell.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
That scene from Dumb and Dumber and the Walmart Inn.
We must have had the biggest shit-eating grins on our faces since OJ Simpson walked out of that courthouse.
We had just left Ottawa not 25 minutes ago, and we were already dropped off, stoned for free and thumbing our next ride.
The July sun was setting and although the Newfie and I were on the road, we were determined to get farther. We walked another five minutes, when no exaggeration, a car with two occupants pulled over in front of us. We could see they were two youngish girls, and from the back of their heads and 20 yards away, (the best angle) they looked cute.
I remember distinctly having the scene from the end of Dumb and Dumber where the bus full of swimsuit models pulls over for them to join in. Every boy, traveller and of course hitchhiker's dream is to find some free spirited cute girl to bring along for the ride, or share a moment to make the story that much better.
We looked at eachother and our grins only grew wider. The drivers door opened and out popped a cute brunette, who looked right about our age. She greeted us with a smile that Mike and I couldnt have been happier to see. It was the kind of unbiased, open minded smile that knew exactly who and what we were even before we introduced oursleves. We tossed our bags in the trunk and jumped in the back seat. It was then that my heart started beating faster. Where did these girls come from?
The girl in the passenger seat was by far the prettiest girl I had seen all summer.
Not only that, but they actually stopped to pick up two hitchhikers! They introduced themselves as Jennifer and Anikka, told us about themsleves and about their background. They told us they stopped because they had also thought of doing the same thing; hitch from Ontario to BC for summer work. They were from a small town north of Toronto, I think they were shopping in Ottawa or something.
___
I guess this is going to be my side story to describe newfie Mike, because it will relate to how he and we were with girls. First off, Mike is the man. Mike is mostly a geek-turned hippie-turned traveler. Hes incredibly intelligent, the most sarcastic bastard Ive ever met and has quickly become one of my closest friends. Mike has many talents, however girls are not his forte. Ask Mike who runs the world, he'll tell you(the 'real' answer). Ask Mike how the stock market works, and for advice, he'll tell you. Ask Mike how to fix something, he'll friggen tell you. Ask Mike any fucking question in the world, he will tell you an answer, or find one for you. Ask Mike to fly as wingman, and he will give you the physical formula for the velocity of which that plane crashes. Mike should and could be good with girls, but his quiet personality mixed with his severe hatred for ignorance and stupidity has limited his experiences to a less-than-Fonzie status. However, the girls he does pick, are from the top drawer. I would later get Mike to open after days of prying and days of close-quartered living and found out he just thinks the majority of girls are more or less retarded these days and doesn't waste his time with them. Mike is well traveled and is content with his lifestyle now, and claims he'll settle later. I know he will, and I know she'll be hot, but my efforts of introducing him to girls in the meantime usually squandered. Now that we know Mike is the friggen man, however celibate he decides to be, we can continue.
So anyways, it really didnt take long until the girls had warmed up to us; the whiskered boys bumming a ride. We found out we had alot in common with them, and it was really cool to find girls that are different from the materialistic, socially centered ones we just partied with in the city. We talked about all kinds of stuff as darkness fell, and we continued driving well into the night. It started raining shortly after they picked us up, and I can remember at one point it was raining so hard we couldn't see out our windows.
I also remember the shortcut we took through what I believe was Algonquin Prov Park at what was probably 9ish. There were moose signs all over the place, and I knew that not only was it moose season, and moose country, but that this car was certainly not moose proof!
We we tearing through this hilly, dark and desolate stretch of highway in torrential rain with the risk of a blinded moose deciding to chill out on the road while we plow into him at easily 120km/h in a Japanese sedan. Im not going to lie, I was a little fearful. In fact, my eyes were peeled, scanning the medians for shiny eyes lit up from our headlights. I think I was even tightly grasping my seat with white knuckles while I tried to play it cool. The weed had worn off, and the paranoia stayed. I really thought this girl was cute, and just kept the conversations going, which I noticed was really easy as it didn't take the effort it normally takes when trying to chat up a vodka soaked first year at the bar.
The girls were heading home to a town with more letters in the name than actual people living in it. We were heading to North Bay, and had a difficult decision now.
The girls had invited us back to their house, another 2 hours out of the way than where we wanted.
We pulled into Huntsville, what would turn out to be the split from where they were heading and where we need to go. We pulled into a Wal-Mart parking lot, and got out and stretched our legs. Mike and I both really wanted to go back with the girls. They were cool, really cute, and the trip hadnt given any indications that should we continue we would regret it. My 12yr old boy brain was overheating, and I of course had detailed dreams of how the night could end. Here we were thinking we'd be riding with stinky old truckers the whole trip, and we had these girls inviting us to come to their house. While they never indicated anything provocative, you know damn well we were thinking it, come one who wouldn't!?
Mike and I had to weigh our options, and if we went their way, we knew it would A) be harder and longer to hitch from there and B) we had somewhat of deadline to make, and our summer earnings depended on it.
We ended up choosing to split ways. Don't ask why, or how, but we did. We figured as cool as it may have ended up being, we didn't want to risk losing our contract with our friends out west and it just wasn't worth it. Looking back in hindsight now, I can ask myself if it was the right choice...and well while splitting didn't lead to us having some crazy Fear-and-Loathing trip, we did keep our jobs which turned out to provide us with the summer of our lives. As beautiful as I thought Anikka was, and as hard as saying no, goodbye was, we had to do it. At least that's what we told ourselves after.
We exchanged information and said goodbye. They had school in the fall, we said we'd keep in touch.
Mike and I were laughing out loud to ourselves as they drove away. We thought we had just made the dumbest move ever, and it really was like Lloyd and Harry turning down those models.
We went to find a place to set up camp for the night, and decided the lush flat grass patch behind the Wal-Mart would be perfect. Too perfect. It had rained, so we didn't notice the wet grass. We only put up one tent, because it was so rainy and there wasn't a point to doubling our wet crap. After we had settled ourselves in,we smoked a small joint to relax us and talk about what idiots we were for leaving the girls and staying behind a shitty ass WalMart.
Then the sprinklers kicked in. The tent was waterproof, but we didn't noticed the sprinkler heads, and one had popped up underneath the tent fly, and was spraying directly into the tent, soaking us and all of our gear. LOVE-R-LY. We scrambled out of the tent and I frantically stomped the sprinkler into the ground, rendering it permanently useless. Suck it Robert Walton. We laughed at our state. We could have had things TOTALLY opposite, but chose this. I chain-smoked several cigarettes in spite of our fantastic situation and slowly crawled back into bed, which was now soaked with poisoned WalMart water.
Mike and I had to reassure ourselves several times we made the right decision, morally and it kept my thoughts from wandering to other places.
That was life on the road as I would learn, and there would be many sleepless nights filled with debating with the stars. C'est la vie, right?
We finally dozed, off, well into the night. Soaked and tired, but none-the-less, we were on our trip, and had met a fitty bitty. Life was good.
We had just left Ottawa not 25 minutes ago, and we were already dropped off, stoned for free and thumbing our next ride.
The July sun was setting and although the Newfie and I were on the road, we were determined to get farther. We walked another five minutes, when no exaggeration, a car with two occupants pulled over in front of us. We could see they were two youngish girls, and from the back of their heads and 20 yards away, (the best angle) they looked cute.
I remember distinctly having the scene from the end of Dumb and Dumber where the bus full of swimsuit models pulls over for them to join in. Every boy, traveller and of course hitchhiker's dream is to find some free spirited cute girl to bring along for the ride, or share a moment to make the story that much better.
We looked at eachother and our grins only grew wider. The drivers door opened and out popped a cute brunette, who looked right about our age. She greeted us with a smile that Mike and I couldnt have been happier to see. It was the kind of unbiased, open minded smile that knew exactly who and what we were even before we introduced oursleves. We tossed our bags in the trunk and jumped in the back seat. It was then that my heart started beating faster. Where did these girls come from?
The girl in the passenger seat was by far the prettiest girl I had seen all summer.
Not only that, but they actually stopped to pick up two hitchhikers! They introduced themselves as Jennifer and Anikka, told us about themsleves and about their background. They told us they stopped because they had also thought of doing the same thing; hitch from Ontario to BC for summer work. They were from a small town north of Toronto, I think they were shopping in Ottawa or something.
___
I guess this is going to be my side story to describe newfie Mike, because it will relate to how he and we were with girls. First off, Mike is the man. Mike is mostly a geek-turned hippie-turned traveler. Hes incredibly intelligent, the most sarcastic bastard Ive ever met and has quickly become one of my closest friends. Mike has many talents, however girls are not his forte. Ask Mike who runs the world, he'll tell you(the 'real' answer). Ask Mike how the stock market works, and for advice, he'll tell you. Ask Mike how to fix something, he'll friggen tell you. Ask Mike any fucking question in the world, he will tell you an answer, or find one for you. Ask Mike to fly as wingman, and he will give you the physical formula for the velocity of which that plane crashes. Mike should and could be good with girls, but his quiet personality mixed with his severe hatred for ignorance and stupidity has limited his experiences to a less-than-Fonzie status. However, the girls he does pick, are from the top drawer. I would later get Mike to open after days of prying and days of close-quartered living and found out he just thinks the majority of girls are more or less retarded these days and doesn't waste his time with them. Mike is well traveled and is content with his lifestyle now, and claims he'll settle later. I know he will, and I know she'll be hot, but my efforts of introducing him to girls in the meantime usually squandered. Now that we know Mike is the friggen man, however celibate he decides to be, we can continue.
So anyways, it really didnt take long until the girls had warmed up to us; the whiskered boys bumming a ride. We found out we had alot in common with them, and it was really cool to find girls that are different from the materialistic, socially centered ones we just partied with in the city. We talked about all kinds of stuff as darkness fell, and we continued driving well into the night. It started raining shortly after they picked us up, and I can remember at one point it was raining so hard we couldn't see out our windows.
I also remember the shortcut we took through what I believe was Algonquin Prov Park at what was probably 9ish. There were moose signs all over the place, and I knew that not only was it moose season, and moose country, but that this car was certainly not moose proof!
We we tearing through this hilly, dark and desolate stretch of highway in torrential rain with the risk of a blinded moose deciding to chill out on the road while we plow into him at easily 120km/h in a Japanese sedan. Im not going to lie, I was a little fearful. In fact, my eyes were peeled, scanning the medians for shiny eyes lit up from our headlights. I think I was even tightly grasping my seat with white knuckles while I tried to play it cool. The weed had worn off, and the paranoia stayed. I really thought this girl was cute, and just kept the conversations going, which I noticed was really easy as it didn't take the effort it normally takes when trying to chat up a vodka soaked first year at the bar.
The girls were heading home to a town with more letters in the name than actual people living in it. We were heading to North Bay, and had a difficult decision now.
The girls had invited us back to their house, another 2 hours out of the way than where we wanted.
We pulled into Huntsville, what would turn out to be the split from where they were heading and where we need to go. We pulled into a Wal-Mart parking lot, and got out and stretched our legs. Mike and I both really wanted to go back with the girls. They were cool, really cute, and the trip hadnt given any indications that should we continue we would regret it. My 12yr old boy brain was overheating, and I of course had detailed dreams of how the night could end. Here we were thinking we'd be riding with stinky old truckers the whole trip, and we had these girls inviting us to come to their house. While they never indicated anything provocative, you know damn well we were thinking it, come one who wouldn't!?
Mike and I had to weigh our options, and if we went their way, we knew it would A) be harder and longer to hitch from there and B) we had somewhat of deadline to make, and our summer earnings depended on it.
We ended up choosing to split ways. Don't ask why, or how, but we did. We figured as cool as it may have ended up being, we didn't want to risk losing our contract with our friends out west and it just wasn't worth it. Looking back in hindsight now, I can ask myself if it was the right choice...and well while splitting didn't lead to us having some crazy Fear-and-Loathing trip, we did keep our jobs which turned out to provide us with the summer of our lives. As beautiful as I thought Anikka was, and as hard as saying no, goodbye was, we had to do it. At least that's what we told ourselves after.
We exchanged information and said goodbye. They had school in the fall, we said we'd keep in touch.
Mike and I were laughing out loud to ourselves as they drove away. We thought we had just made the dumbest move ever, and it really was like Lloyd and Harry turning down those models.
We went to find a place to set up camp for the night, and decided the lush flat grass patch behind the Wal-Mart would be perfect. Too perfect. It had rained, so we didn't notice the wet grass. We only put up one tent, because it was so rainy and there wasn't a point to doubling our wet crap. After we had settled ourselves in,we smoked a small joint to relax us and talk about what idiots we were for leaving the girls and staying behind a shitty ass WalMart.
Then the sprinklers kicked in. The tent was waterproof, but we didn't noticed the sprinkler heads, and one had popped up underneath the tent fly, and was spraying directly into the tent, soaking us and all of our gear. LOVE-R-LY. We scrambled out of the tent and I frantically stomped the sprinkler into the ground, rendering it permanently useless. Suck it Robert Walton. We laughed at our state. We could have had things TOTALLY opposite, but chose this. I chain-smoked several cigarettes in spite of our fantastic situation and slowly crawled back into bed, which was now soaked with poisoned WalMart water.
Mike and I had to reassure ourselves several times we made the right decision, morally and it kept my thoughts from wandering to other places.
That was life on the road as I would learn, and there would be many sleepless nights filled with debating with the stars. C'est la vie, right?
We finally dozed, off, well into the night. Soaked and tired, but none-the-less, we were on our trip, and had met a fitty bitty. Life was good.
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