12 ... Gabriel Morrisonly my arm and thumb sticking out, singing at the top of my lungs,
or laughing uncontrollably—until eventually I wear myself out and
resign myself to patiently awaiting a ride.
Other times—too cold, wet and tired to find any humor in the
situation—I’ll simply close up in a depressed stupor, my arm fro-
zen outwards, thumb extended, praying for a ride to bring me some
temporary refuge. In the end, however, I’ve almost always gotten a
ride, at which point I have to admit that I don’t blame people for not
wanting to pick up a scraggly stranger on the side of the road. What-
ever may happen, attempting to hitch a ride from strangers sure can
give a unique perspective on society.
But today was a good day to be a hitchhiker. I felt liberated by
my freedom to walk out onto the highway, stick out my thumb and
catch a ride free of charge, to any destination I might choose (as long
as someone else was going there, at least). Though it was mid-Febru-
ary, after months of flooding rains, it was now warm and sunny, and
I was exhilarated to be out on the road.
I made it fairly quickly up to Garberville and then west over to
the coast. After hopping out of the back of a pickup at Shelter Cove,
I hiked a mile up the coast to the beachside trailhead. I set my pack
down in the sand, took a seat, and watched the waves for a while
as I ate some cheese and crackers, reveling in the sun shining down
on me. I removed my boots and strapped them to the outside of my
pack to enjoy the feeling of sand between my toes.
I hiked slowly through the sand five miles north along the beach,
taking in the sounds of the waves, the clean, salty air, watching the
seagulls flying lazily overhead. The sun turned from yellow to orange,
and then a fiery red, as it approached the ocean horizon. I stopped
at a small creek flowing into the sea and set up my tent on the solid
ground just up from the beach. Then I sat down in the warm sand
to watch the setting sun and the endlessly crashing waves. Once
the sun had gone down, I set up my tent and cooked up some soup
on my camp stove. Then I crawled into my sleeping bag for a cozy
night’s rest.