1978

I had just been dropped off from my last ride of the day. An 18 wheeler had been my ride and truckers covered some miles. I am somewhere in the Blue Ridge mountains or Smokey mountains and it has just gotten dark. The usual routine was to walk off the highway into the woods, or up under an overpass and roll out my bag for a night’s sleep. It was cold, I remember that well. It was late October maybe even November, I had spent the summer in Nova Scotia (again) and then dropped down to Boston to see relatives, then New York City because it's New York City. Now I was hitchin’ back to Southern California.

I had less than $25 - 1978 dollars on me, a valid driver’s license and a very light bag. This was my 3^rd year on the road, traveling light and smart had become an art.

The evening routine would consist of securing some privacy, finding some soft dry ground, laying my bag true north (pyramid thing), journaling and making sure my money and ID were safe. Then off I would drift.



Cape Breton ~ Heaven

 This night everything went as planned, except no ID. Where the hell was it? Like we all do when something is lost or misplaced is review in our heads where we had last had or seen the item lost. I had no idea. I was bummed and did not sleep at all.

The next morning I made my way down to the highway and now California/home felt like a long way away and with no ID, I saw myself somewhere in Arkansas or New Mexico for a very long time with a vagrancy rap.

 So down to the highway I go very bummed and my day starts with a state trooper from up on an overpass speaking to me from his megaphone (yep~a megaphone) to move down the highway a couple hundred yards because I was not allowed to hitchhike where I was standing. So I did. That encounter alone could have kept me in North Carolina longer than I had planned. So with my head down and a bit fearful I did what I was told and started walking along the highway. As I am walking along I look down at the side of the road and see a piece of litter and upon closer review, I realize it is my ID on the side of the road. If I wasn’t smiling for that ID photo, I swear to you it was looking up at me with a big smile as I saw it laying there.

 I picked it up and I think the town of Ashville heard a sound they had never heard before.  A drifter yelling at the top of his lungs “thank you God” and doing a dance on interstate 40 that maybe someone driving by that frosty morning, still remembers.

The day just got better. My next ride took me all the way from Ashville North Carolina to… you guessed it. “Home sweet Home”.




can you blame me for hitting the road ?