sagas in hitchin' (new zealand)
1. a mom on her way to pick up the kids from school picks me up because she "feared for my life" whilst i hitched on the expressway.
2. a very rough looking guy in a beat up pink muscle car stops for me. "where you headed?" i ask. "get in" he says, "be hard for me to be a criminal in this thing, eh!" okayyy then, i think to myself as i climb in. soon, i learn the man is a pig hunter and he has just killed a pig he'd been tracking for nine years. just like captain ahab me thinks (via lauren robel's insight).
3. a junior church minister picks me up whilst spreading the good word.
6. a one-legged geezer in a tiny pick-up truck takes me a few miles.
31. a small sports car with an older woman inside pulls up next to me. "my husband tells me not to pick up hitchers, but what the hell, get in!"...later she admits that i "didn't look so scary". we cruise for an hour or so with the top down, the wind in our faces, and the mountains rushing by.
33. A thirty-something-year-old gives me a lift in his big pick-up truck (or,ute in new zealand). he's a builder but also spends weekends training with new zealand's military. what's amazing to me is that he wants to go to iraq before the troops are pulled out. "yeah man, i just wanna blow some shit up. there ain't no repurcusions there." um, in all due respect mister, that's not really how it works...
38. an elderly aussie couple offer me a lift after having passed me 3 different times the day before. they were slightly skeptical, even scared to stop for a hitchhiker they eventually admitted. by the end, after a long flowing conversation, they were well pleased to have met me and couldn't wait to brag to their daughter of their "adventurous spirit" in picking me up.
40. an aussie financier travelling solo gives me a lift. first he asks, "get in, as long as you aren't a mass murderer or something..." "um no i'm not," i say " are you??"
55. a young guy in a terribly unfit car pulls up. over the course of the ride i learn he has no liscence ("very suspended," i think he said), registration, etc. he quickly veers into pull-offs anytime he spots a white car (potential police car) in the distance.
60. an older guy stops and says "get in!" i get in. soon after he leers my way and shouts "hope you don't mind a drinkin' driver!" as he takes a big gulp from a beer can. oookay then, i mutter to myself.
61. an irish man named paddy takes me a ways. later i learn he is known as "mad paddy" and that the word is that he is an ex-ira informant who lives in new zealand as part of a sort of witness protection program. he adamantly encourages me to have a whistle when ever i go tramping. "don't laugh, i'm not fockin' jokin', it could save your life!!" he insists
65. an old man offers me a ride and the chance to spend the afternoon goldmining with him. i gladly accept.
77 rides in all. this is just a mere taste. not one the same. all unique in their own way. the best way to travel hands down.
on the outside looking in or vice-versa:
so i was hitching once (well this happened more than once for sure) and a japanese tourism bus (there are many such companies that cater only to the japanese in new zealand) passes me in fiordland national park. with all of their faces glued to the windows, in unison, each person generates a gaping smile and vigourously waves a hand or two at me. it's funny, but in that moment, i felt like a wild animal being viewed from a jeep-safari window. i had become a part of their tour, as it were. i could imagine them scrolling through pictures of their trip with friends back home. "and this one here is when we drove by the hitchhiker!!" "wow!!" their friends might say. this memory always makes me laugh.
finally, here is a poem i found in my journal...
hitchin'
with a thumb as my sail
i let the winds take hold.
for chance shall do what it may
but fate, well fate has the final say -
in the who and the how and the what and the when,
of the where-ever-where i may find myself in.
it took seventy seven cars, two boats, and my feet,
to happen upon who i've happened to meet.
there were pig hunters and preachers and technicians and teachers
old salty sailors and swedes with good features.
and "what," you may ask, did i find down that line,
perspectives a plenty that's to be sure, but more often than not, a damn good time!
1. a mom on her way to pick up the kids from school picks me up because she "feared for my life" whilst i hitched on the expressway.
2. a very rough looking guy in a beat up pink muscle car stops for me. "where you headed?" i ask. "get in" he says, "be hard for me to be a criminal in this thing, eh!" okayyy then, i think to myself as i climb in. soon, i learn the man is a pig hunter and he has just killed a pig he'd been tracking for nine years. just like captain ahab me thinks (via lauren robel's insight).
3. a junior church minister picks me up whilst spreading the good word.
6. a one-legged geezer in a tiny pick-up truck takes me a few miles.
31. a small sports car with an older woman inside pulls up next to me. "my husband tells me not to pick up hitchers, but what the hell, get in!"...later she admits that i "didn't look so scary". we cruise for an hour or so with the top down, the wind in our faces, and the mountains rushing by.
33. A thirty-something-year-old gives me a lift in his big pick-up truck (or,ute in new zealand). he's a builder but also spends weekends training with new zealand's military. what's amazing to me is that he wants to go to iraq before the troops are pulled out. "yeah man, i just wanna blow some shit up. there ain't no repurcusions there." um, in all due respect mister, that's not really how it works...
38. an elderly aussie couple offer me a lift after having passed me 3 different times the day before. they were slightly skeptical, even scared to stop for a hitchhiker they eventually admitted. by the end, after a long flowing conversation, they were well pleased to have met me and couldn't wait to brag to their daughter of their "adventurous spirit" in picking me up.
40. an aussie financier travelling solo gives me a lift. first he asks, "get in, as long as you aren't a mass murderer or something..." "um no i'm not," i say " are you??"
55. a young guy in a terribly unfit car pulls up. over the course of the ride i learn he has no liscence ("very suspended," i think he said), registration, etc. he quickly veers into pull-offs anytime he spots a white car (potential police car) in the distance.
60. an older guy stops and says "get in!" i get in. soon after he leers my way and shouts "hope you don't mind a drinkin' driver!" as he takes a big gulp from a beer can. oookay then, i mutter to myself.
61. an irish man named paddy takes me a ways. later i learn he is known as "mad paddy" and that the word is that he is an ex-ira informant who lives in new zealand as part of a sort of witness protection program. he adamantly encourages me to have a whistle when ever i go tramping. "don't laugh, i'm not fockin' jokin', it could save your life!!" he insists
65. an old man offers me a ride and the chance to spend the afternoon goldmining with him. i gladly accept.
77 rides in all. this is just a mere taste. not one the same. all unique in their own way. the best way to travel hands down.
on the outside looking in or vice-versa:
so i was hitching once (well this happened more than once for sure) and a japanese tourism bus (there are many such companies that cater only to the japanese in new zealand) passes me in fiordland national park. with all of their faces glued to the windows, in unison, each person generates a gaping smile and vigourously waves a hand or two at me. it's funny, but in that moment, i felt like a wild animal being viewed from a jeep-safari window. i had become a part of their tour, as it were. i could imagine them scrolling through pictures of their trip with friends back home. "and this one here is when we drove by the hitchhiker!!" "wow!!" their friends might say. this memory always makes me laugh.
finally, here is a poem i found in my journal...
hitchin'
with a thumb as my sail
i let the winds take hold.
for chance shall do what it may
but fate, well fate has the final say -
in the who and the how and the what and the when,
of the where-ever-where i may find myself in.
it took seventy seven cars, two boats, and my feet,
to happen upon who i've happened to meet.
there were pig hunters and preachers and technicians and teachers
old salty sailors and swedes with good features.
and "what," you may ask, did i find down that line,
perspectives a plenty that's to be sure, but more often than not, a damn good time!
No comments:
Post a Comment