Jon Lott - Hitchhike America

Hitchhike America.

Copyright 2018 Jon Lott.

All rights reserved.

No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Jonathan Lott.

ISBN: 978-1-7325831-0-8 (Print Paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-7325831-1-5 (Ebook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018908520

Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

Printed and bound in the United States of America

Published by Ajax Publishing

119 Britton Ave ,Stoughton, MA, U.S.A. 02072

www.ajaxpublishing.com

Hitchhike

America

This book is dedicated to all those who love adventure and the open road.

In 2016, I decided to hitchhike across the United States. I had never hitchhiked before, never even seen a hitchhiker in real life. I took a bus from Boston to Washington, D.C. and stood by an on-ramp with my thumb out on the morning of March 15th, holding a cardboard sign that just said, WEST.

Its not very easy to explain why I decided to hitchhike across the country. Usually the people who dont understand it never will . On the other hand, some people intuitively know and never needed to ask why.

Part of it was a desire to see America, unbound . My parents had taken my siblings and me on vacations in the heartland of America as young children, seeing National Parks and walking in the footsteps of so many other families. I didnt want to drive or take a train or bus across the nation; I wanted to live in the moment, unplanned, letting the wild wind blow me west. I often told people that my adventure was like going up in a hot air balloon and drifting in the general direction I wanted, but leaving all details and destinations to chance, to the destiny of the drivers and the circumstances of the road.

I didnt want to do tourist stuff, and I didnt want the packaged experiences that guides and websites sold. I wanted to see and experience amazing things, to taste new excitements, to search for the real and ever-evolving American soul.

If this sounds pretentious, I dont want it to. I romanticized the idea in my head before , during, and after my travels were over. I still think about it that way. I had read beat literature and watched movies with hitchhiking, but I didnt want to be like their protagonists, who were usually bottom-feeding freeloaders in search of cheap liquor and cheaper women, willing to con anybody for a couple bucks . I wanted to be part of a new generation of hitchhikers, as carefree and adaptable as the past, but more honest and responsible.

Also driving me to take this journey was a compulsion to push back against the growing, modern cynicism taking root in America. Fear and prejudice and selfishness have made hitch h iking in the United States nearly extinct. Americans are among the least trusting people on the planet, but we have so much to share. We can be close-minded and willfully ignorant, scared of opening our sanctuary-like vehicles to anybody because of a few secondhand tales about hitchhiking murderers thirty or forty or fifty years ago.

I didnt want to live life in fear like that. I didnt tell many people about my trip beforehand; every one of the adults that I did tell opposed the idea and tried to convince me against it. The young er people I told, some of my friends and students, nearly all approved of the idea, still holding onto that bright optimism and belief in adventure.

I had this itch to hitchhike for almost a year before I started. I had rolled the idea over in my mind and preemptively settled on the summer of 2017 to try it. But some ideas are like parasites, and they grow inside you in unpredictable ways. This was one such idea. I knew that I had to start in 2016 to appease my hungry soul and purge the thought from my over active mind. I didnt expect my cross-country odyss ey to grow my craving to travel. In fact, I thought it would satisfy my enthusiasm and calm my spirit . B ut you can never really know how hitchhiking is going to turn out.

There are other reasons why I decided to hitchhike America, but some would be hard to explain and others might just not be worth it. Like I said, those who already understand need no explanation, and those who dont wont learn anything by what I write.

It took me seventeen days to hitchhike across the country, journeying across ten states . I spent under $100 on my way from D.C. to the west coast (excluding start-up costs, like my te nt and backpack). Roughly two dozen drivers picked me up, and I was never threatened or robbed or harmed by anybody on my trip. I didnt make any lifelong friends, but I made a lifelong lover of the road, and plenty of memories along the way, which you are about to read.

I often thought during my journey about how differently the whole thing wouldve gone if any given driver hadnt picked me up. Id have to wait for a different one, going to a different place at a different time altogether. It wouldve changed the whole trajectory of my trip in entirely unpredictable ways.

I had spent the previous day with my friend Hilary in Washington, D. C. She agreed, the next morning, to drop me off at the on-ramp of my choice. Since it was still winter, and I didnt want to sleep outside in the cold, I settled on I-95, heading south to Richmond , Virginia . I intended to make it to South Carolina, and then head through Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, riding that southern sunbelt across America .

But you can never predict much when youre hitchhiking. It turned out that I never made it t o South Carolina, nor Georgia, Alabama, or Mississippi. Hilary didnt know exactly where she was dropping me off, and she was late for work, so I ended up hopping out near an on-ramp to I-66, heading west. You can never control your destiny on the road , and you shouldnt even try . This was the first lesson I learned.

A construction worker passed me on the sidewalk, noticing my sign.

Where are you going? he asked.

The Pacific coast.

He looked taken aback. Good luck.

It just so happened that on my first day hitchhiking I was pretty lucky. I got my first ride in about twenty minutes.

A black Audi pulled up, and I saw the driver move some stuff into the back of the car. He waved me in as he moved a tiny terrier onto his lap. I put my bag in the back and got into the passenger seat.

I had planned beforehand to take a picture of every license plate that picked me up, in case I went missing or died or got into any real danger . I didnt end up taking a picture of this cars license plate, or any other, because most cars in the south dont have a front license plate and because you really dont have a whole lot of time to take a picture when a car pulls up for you and waves you in . Sometimes traffic can build up behind you, or you dont want to look suspicious to the driver, or you just dont care. I was so excited to get a ride that I didnt even think about taking a picture.

Where are you headed? I asked.

Around Manassas.

Sounds good to me, I said. Where is that?

About thirty minutes west of here.

I introduced myself, but I didnt hear what his name was. His dogs name was Buddy. The driver was a man in his sixties, with a mop of curly blond hair that looked similar to his dogs. He wore sunglasses over glasses and black velvet pants.

You dont get to judge people when youre hitchhiking. You shouldnt, anyway. You just observe and ride the ride. Passersby often think youre homeless, or at least poor. You often go days without a shower and longer without a good nights sleep. And dont be afraid to decline a ride (especially if theyre not going far enough; holding out for the long rides is usually worth it), but you should also take what you can get.