18 wheeler
Jul. 17th, 2006 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nibotI was on the side of the road at Tupper Lakes, thumbing. It was early in the day still, noon, and I was in good spirits. Thunderstorms passed. Seeking a ride down and out of the Adirondacks, I held my thumb out hopefully at each passing vehicle.
Then, with wheezing brakes and seismic tremors, a huge bulk shuddered to a stop before me. It might as well have been a freight train, or a huge living creature from time immemorial. I ran along side it, to the cab. An 18-wheeler tractor/trailer had stopped for my thumb!
I grinned and could hardly believe it. My hands grabbed railings, my feet found the steps, and I bounded up into the cab.
"You're not an axe murderer, are you?" Demanded the driver, a jumpy fellow who seemed all arms. "I've got a gun!"
"Nah," He said. "You look like a good fellow. I don't normally stop for hitchhikers, but you looked alright."
The truck roared to life, accelerated to speed. From this vantage, SUV's were puny in front of us. I surveyed the arrays of switches on the console, all sparkly blue; the CB radio, tuned to nineteen; the shifter lever, illustrated with way beyond the familiar five speeds.
"What are you carrying," I asked. "A .44!" he replied, matter of factly. "Kidding. Pallets. Pallets for the Kraft Food factory. Hey, want a beer?" I declined, declined, and then accepted.
He turned up Santana on the radio and told me how he'd bought the truck out from the company, how he now enjoyed making his own hours. "Now they ask me, could you do this, instead of telling me, hey, do this!"
He sipped a budweiser. Reassurringly he sipped it slowly and infrequently, usually holding the bottle in his legs, keeping hands on the wheel at 10 and 2.
Twenty miles to the highway 30 / highway 3 junction. I poured my beer out into the grass beside the road.
Then, with wheezing brakes and seismic tremors, a huge bulk shuddered to a stop before me. It might as well have been a freight train, or a huge living creature from time immemorial. I ran along side it, to the cab. An 18-wheeler tractor/trailer had stopped for my thumb!
I grinned and could hardly believe it. My hands grabbed railings, my feet found the steps, and I bounded up into the cab.
"You're not an axe murderer, are you?" Demanded the driver, a jumpy fellow who seemed all arms. "I've got a gun!"
"Nah," He said. "You look like a good fellow. I don't normally stop for hitchhikers, but you looked alright."
The truck roared to life, accelerated to speed. From this vantage, SUV's were puny in front of us. I surveyed the arrays of switches on the console, all sparkly blue; the CB radio, tuned to nineteen; the shifter lever, illustrated with way beyond the familiar five speeds.
"What are you carrying," I asked. "A .44!" he replied, matter of factly. "Kidding. Pallets. Pallets for the Kraft Food factory. Hey, want a beer?" I declined, declined, and then accepted.
He turned up Santana on the radio and told me how he'd bought the truck out from the company, how he now enjoyed making his own hours. "Now they ask me, could you do this, instead of telling me, hey, do this!"
He sipped a budweiser. Reassurringly he sipped it slowly and infrequently, usually holding the bottle in his legs, keeping hands on the wheel at 10 and 2.
Twenty miles to the highway 30 / highway 3 junction. I poured my beer out into the grass beside the road.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 07:49 pm (UTC)In this charmingly illegal kind of way.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-26 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-24 06:39 pm (UTC)hitchhiking in the usa
Date: 2007-04-30 12:29 am (UTC)1. hitchhiked from san diego, california to la paz, baja california sur (mexico) with
2. hitchhiked by myself from rochester, new york to the adirondack mountains and back again, near the summer solstice 2006
3. hitchhiked with
all of these trips went excellently!