Hitchhiking was one of the highlights of the PCT experience last year. You meet some characters when you stick your thumb out…most of them interesting and delightful.
After a solo backpack trip through the Trinity Alps in mid-June, I found a ride from the trailhead to historic Weaverville, and headed straight to the town’s universe level ice cream parlor (Crockett’s UpNorth). After a big cone full of mint chip ice cream, I emerged with a sugar high and stumbled out to Highway 299 where I combed my hair and stuck out my thumb. This was a Sunday afternoon and there were lots of cars on the road; so I thought I had a good chance to catch a ride to Redding. Instead, all the nice couples in their SUVs rolled up their windows when they saw me, admittedly looking a little grungy after several days on the trail. The local Weaverville drivers hand-signalled me that they were just going a short distance.
Feeling the pain of rejection, I walked down the road after an hour or two, and stopped at the Weaverville museum which was filled with memorablia about Trinity County’s gold-mining history. Well worth the time. The friendly docent suggested I try my luck at the east end of town so I walked down the road and stuck out my thumb again.
I considered the pros and cons of visiting the Tangle Blue Saloon to ask the patrons for a ride, but figured this should be a last resort since riding with a guy who’d been drinking all afternoon might be riskier than meeting bears on the trail.
And just then, a white station wagon with an American flag in the rear and graffiti on the side (Vote for Darla’s Tacos) slowed down and a couple took a look at me. A woman was driving with her partner who asked where I was headed. I said Redding, but they were going only about ten miles down the road to Douglas City, so I declined the ride. I cussed myself as soon as they pulled away because I should have offered to pay for gas if they took me all the way to Redding.
But then a miracle occurred. The car made a U-Turn and came back. The guy said: “If you pay for gas, we’ll take you to Redding.” I said: “Deal.”
It took awhile for them to clear their gear out of the backseat to find a place for my backpack and me. Then before we took off, the guy turned to me and said, “I’m Ben and this is Stacy and you’re riding in SnowWhite. You aren’t gonna pull any funny stuff are you?
“Nope, I’m old and safe,” I replied. After that security check, the conversation was fun and free-wheeling. They told me the story of how a friend had given them SnowWhite, a 2009 Mercury station wagon. While talking about how long they had been together ( nine years) and how long they had been married (6 years), they casually mentioned that both of them were bi-polar and that Stacy also suffered from schizophrenia. I told Stacy I liked her purple hair to which she replied that she didn’t like orange or red hair. “Why is that?” I asked. “Because I’ve never tried those colors,” she replied. To which we all roared with laughter. In a more serious moment, Stacy said that she loved Ben because he knew how to take care of her when the bi-polar and/or schizophrenia symptoms hit. In turn, Ben said that Stacy was his best therapist. “He’s mine too,” she said.
“But she was planning to leave when I got hooked on meth,” confided Ben. “Two months ago she told me I had two options, kick my meth habit or lose her,” he said. “I stopped it cold right then and there. One of the toughest things I ever did, but Stacy’s worth it. Even fucked up on meth, I was smart enough to choose Stacy. I’ve been clean two months now, and I feel clear and free.”
We all cried a little after Ben’s story, and then high-fived him for his courage. Stacy found the cheapest gas in Redding ($5.81), we filled up and then headed to the airport where I found a flight back to the Bay Area. I regret that I don’t have a pic of SnowWhite.