Memorable Hitchhikers I Have Known
79There are plenty of warnings out there: Don't pick up hitchhikers! After all, the next body the cannibal hitchhiker consumes might be your own. Okay, so that rule applies to lots of folks, and of course I ignore that rule just like I ignore lots of other rules.
Rules suck.
I've picked up hitchhikers from the time I was sixteen, heading up the road, looking for a party with a handful of drunk guys I'd picked up along the way, every one of them working at intimidating me as we went. I'm closing in on sixty-eight now, and except for a five-year hiatus in my late thirties, I've never stopped giving rides to strangers.
When I'm alone, that is, not with my wife in the car--or with my kids, back when I had some of those critters. And not if I get a vibe from the hiker that indicates he's hiding a rusty hatchet under that old Army field jacket. And not if I just don't feel like it that particular day.
But other than that, yes.
So, ready to meet my Top Three Most Memorable Hitchhikers of All Time? Yes? In reverse order, then:
My Three Most Memorable Hitchhikers
3. Montana, 1967. I was on a run from Great Falls to Spokane. The hiker was a man in his thirties, a steady sort of fellow. I dropped him off on the way past Missoula, where his stated goal was to terminate either his ex-wife or her new man--or maybe both; my memory's a bit fuzzy on that little detail. I never did find out if he succeeded in his quest or not.
2. South Dakota, 1980. Two young men who climbed into the car turned out to be two underage boys, Job Corps runaways. They were then, and are to this day, the only minors to put me at risk like that since I'd quit being a kid myself. The older one "smelled" my desire to dump them and tried to work a deal to betray his buddy, leave the younger kid behind. I managed to ditch them both at a truck stop, but on my return run eight hours later, the greener youth was still there. On a bench. Fast asleep--he'd been betrayed by both me and his supposed friend. I very quietly gassed up and bugged out, leaving him still counting sheep.
1. Iowa, 1977. That year, I had a 45-mile commute home from work and once picked up a married couple just as I hit I-29 north toward South Dakota, where I lived. The wife got in the back seat, the guy rode shotgun. It was raining; they were soaked. Along the way, he and I talked, but I kept sneaking glances in the mirror at the gal in the back. I told a story of an assistant I'd had at an insurance office in Oregon, a girl who'd stabbed me in the back when I'd tried to help her. As a result, our mutual boss had put me very firmly on his sh*t list, and I'd needed to find other employment before he found a way to can me.
But I was not upset, because I'd come to understand why she did it and because I'd learned a valuable lesson from the experience. That had been three years earlier, but I still wanted her to know there were no hard feelings. Which turned out to be possible after all.
She was the girl in the back.
There have been other memorable hitchhikers in my vehicle over the decades and will likely be at least a few more before I'm done--but those three "pickups" top the list so far. There was an undercover cop in Tennessee who tried to talk her way into my truck so she could bust me in 2002, but I didn't fall for that one. Kept the cab locked, in fact.
So, I have a bad habit, you say? Hey, blame it on my Dad. His two ton stock truck went roaring eastbound past our ranch house one fine day, back around 1950. That was curious, but we had no phone, so all we could do was wait until he came back the other way and pulled into the yard an hour or so later.
Turned out he'd picked up a hitchhiker who'd been stupid enough to pull a knife on him, trying to truckjack the vehicle. Hah! The old man just floored it, let the guy know if he wanted to play stick-and-bleed, they could crash together. When he hit our hometown, he brought that working rig to a sliding sideways stop, right up close to the only cop car in town. The knife wielder didn't even try to resist arrest; he was white as a sheet and shaking like a leaf.
I don't have a personal story to top that one, but hey. There's time yet.
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Can't really blame the mob on that one. Hope your heart-of-gold hitcher is recovering?
Dear Ghost,
Please, don't stop anymore...
Hello Ghost, I admire your courage for doing what I have always been afraid to do. Seems the hitchers who are organized, with a sign saying their destination as they stand near freeway entrance ramps, stand a better chance for a ride. But then that could be a contrived lie, so be safe out there.
BPop and FGual: I'll keep on picking up those I know are okay to pick up...but please DON'T think I'm recommending you or anyone else try this unless you know what you're doing. I've got some hardcore street skills that allow me to (a) read people while they're still standing with their thumbs out and (b) deal with it if I turn out to be wrong.
It's not for everybody.
BPop again: I didn't mean to scare you. Please believe me, I'm at ZERO risk, doing what I do. And there ARE hitchers I avoid with great clarity, including some who give me cold chills as I drive on by.
I understand what you are writing about, but believe me, Ghost, you are still taking a chance giving rides to people you don't know. Some sociopaths are extremely adept at seeming like nice guys - on the outside.
drbj: I appreciate your concern, but when I talk about reading people, I don't mean "just" evaluation of their outward appearance.
Let's see if this example will clarify things a bit:
When Pam and I first arrived on the land we now occupy in April of 2009, there was nothing here but bare land and a steady flow of northbound illegal immigrants hoofing it through in the middle of the night. We had no house. I slept in a steel storage shed to give Pam space (which with her disabilities she deeply needs), but often I was sitting in the kitchenette booth, typing out Hubs, until anywhere from 1:00 to 4:00 a.m. every night.
We could often hear a small smuggler's plane flying northbound overhead on a Wednesday evening, returning the following night.
Over the course of a given month, hundreds of illegals would go past us on beaten paths I'd checked out many times, and sometimes we even heard them or saw the quick blink of a not-so-distant flashlight. But we were in no danger; the drug smuggling routes run elsewhere for the most part.
Except once. About 12:45 one morning, as one fellow went by (at a distance of two hundred yards or so), my "Spider sense" went off like crazy. This was one bad, evil, violent, ugly mammer-jammer, and I could FEEL it. Pam was asleep, I was typing, and the threat wasn't imminent enough (quite) for me to shut off the lights and go to full combat mode--but I for sure stayed alert to that inner warning, checked to make sure that my weapons were ready and within reach, and also stayed inside until the bad guy had been gone for more than 45 minutes.
I do understand sociopaths. My formal education is in the field of psychology, and my life experience has had me brushing elbows with some people that could put madman Tucson Tragedy shooter Jared Loughner to shame.
Believe me, I'm taking NO chances when I stop to give a hitchhiker a ride.
Now, it's true THEY may be taking a chance, getting in a car with ME, though! LOL!
Awesome hub Ghost! I've got thousands of miles on both sides of that fence. I've picked up many a hitchhiker and when I was younger my thumb was my transportation many a time. Its been decades since I've hitched a ride and a long time since I've picked up a hitchhiker. You be careful out there. I had a tough childhood and hitchhiked all over the country. I can tell you for every good man like yourself there are probably ten idiots picking up kids with less honorable intentions than a ride. I was awful lucky to get away from some of them. Amazingly enough nothing ever really bad came out of any of those rides, guess I'd have to say that is the closest thing in my life to a real miracle. Again, AWESOME HUB!
Sounds about right to me, David. That is, ten predators for every honorable ride. Glad to hear you made it through unsathed.
It's looking hard for some of my online friends to understand, but I'm ALWAYS careful out there.
Curiously enough, I was one of those guys who could stick his thumb out all day and NEVER get a ride. Some of my acquaintances could do it with no sweat whatsoever, but not me.
So I never did have to worry about THAT side of it! Except for having to walk more than a few miles, more than once. Or jog.
And I did run into two separate hitchers, about a month apart, who made me rethink the whole thing for a while. That was when I took my "five year hiatus" from picking up ANYBODY.
After which, I decided, hey, let's just be using that God-given inner radar a bit more effectively, shall we? And...no problem since.
Your a saint Ghost. I drove a cab for a bit instead of sitting on my butt until I could do my real job after my first neck surgery. A couple of kids with a hunting knife and a chrome plated handgun in my backseat ended the cab driving gig and picking up hitchhikers as well, at least for now anyway. Wasn't my fear of them it was the fear of what I wanted to do to them with their own weapons that was a wake up call. I did the right thing and turned them over, the kids and the weapons, to the sheriffs department. Seems it's a new world out there. Probably fortunate you were one of those guys that NEVER got a ride,as I wasn't so lucky and always got a ride I hitched a lot, lol.
Yeah, I'd not likely last that long driving cab, either. Something about all those folks sitting BEHIND me....
And you're right: I finally folded my thumb back down, threw up my hands, and figured there had to be a reason I wasn't getting picked up. Probably WAS fortunate.
Saint Ghost. Hm. I'm not sure who ought to be cast in the role, but doesn't that sound like a cool movie (or TV series) title?
Hm. That it does. I think your the better writer, I'm a great video tech though. Keep me in mind.
Heh! Will do--a great video tech I am NOT.
Yeah he is better now, and they sent the attacker to prison.
Anyway Thanks for the hub it is awesome
Glad to hear it--that he's better, and that they sent the attacker to prison.
Well, okay, I'm glad to hear the Hub is awesome, too. I never really know for sure until reader feedback tells me.
Great hub....enjoyed it immensely. Wow, I bet you could write a book on your adventures! Keep on Truckin' as they used to say. Yeah, I am an old fart too! LOL
Actually, I could write lots of books. Getting them promoted, distributed, and sold, now...that's another matter.
Looking for name of movie; B/W movie (i think - from around 1950) A (married?) couple driving, picking up 2 hitchers / criminals - they are first seated in the back, but the biggest of the thuggs is getting interested in the wife (in vice versa) and he tells the couple that the wife must go in the backseat. From here the strange relationship developes - the husband is more and more turned into the cuckold and the thugg is at some point baning the wife at a hotel(?). Rings a bell? The wife is pretty slutty and the husband cant do anything to stop them since she is more and more into the thugg
Hmm.... Don't believe I've seen that movie; I do believe I'd remember a plot like that.
You bring up a key point, though: One thing I don't ever do is pick up "multiple hitchhikers" when my wife is with me. I can handle myself in almost any situation--in part because I'd be perfectly willing to slam the accelerator down and slam us all into a tree at 65 mph to even the odds with a hitchhiker who thought he was going to take over--but the female is a target point that changes the equation.
Another thing I don't ever do is put a dangerous person in the back seat behind me. And yes, I can tell who's dangerous and who's not. Also, if Pam and I (together) decide to pick up a dude (which has happened), Pam goes imto the back seat and the hiker rides up front with me.
manthy Level 4 Commenter 12 months ago
You know this is a cool hub that I really related to.
It is sad that about a month ago a frequent hitcher in our town was beaten nearly to death over the $2.00 he had in his pocket. The hitcher is mentally disabled but has a heart of gold and is well liked in our small community, I tell you what the people we're so upset about him getting beat up that they had a lynch mob at the jail to try to get the guy who beat him up.
God-Bless Us All