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Hitchhiking stories

I guess I picked a guy up the other day that was walking, I saw his truck on the side of the road so I figured he was broke down. Some kid in is early 20s said his truck just died and his cell phone was dead. I said you can use my phone and I will give you a ride. I asked what happened he said he just stopped in town because he was almost out of gas and he got fuel and made it a few miles and it died. It was an old square body Chevy he said it was his dads, I said did you switch tanks that truck has dual tanks. He just gave me a blank stare like he has no clue what I was talking about. I said lets go back and try it I will take you back to your truck. No he just wanted to call his dad. Whatever. As he was on the phone with his dad I heard his dad say did you switch the tanks kid said no. I asked again you want me to turn around. No he just wanted me to give him a ride to the gas station his dad would come get him.

His dad had to drive over an hour to pick him up. I hope his dad beat him when he found out he just had to hit the switch on the dash.
 
KungFooMASTA said:
I guess I picked a guy up the other day that was walking, I saw his truck on the side of the road so I figured he was broke down. Some kid in is early 20s said his truck just died and his cell phone was dead. I said you can use my phone and I will give you a ride. I asked what happened he said he just stopped in town because he was almost out of gas and he got fuel and made it a few miles and it died. It was an old square body Chevy he said it was his dads, I said did you switch tanks that truck has dual tanks. He just gave me a blank stare like he has no clue what I was talking about. I said lets go back and try it I will take you back to your truck. No he just wanted to call his dad. Whatever. As he was on the phone with his dad I heard his dad say did you switch the tanks kid said no. I asked again you want me to turn around. No he just wanted me to give him a ride to the gas station his dad would come get him.

His dad had to drive over an hour to pick him up. I hope his dad beat him when he found out he just had to hit the switch on the dash.
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Fucking kids.
 
KungFooMASTA said:
I guess I picked a guy up the other day that was walking, I saw his truck on the side of the road so I figured he was broke down. Some kid in is early 20s said his truck just died and his cell phone was dead. I said you can use my phone and I will give you a ride. I asked what happened he said he just stopped in town because he was almost out of gas and he got fuel and made it a few miles and it died. It was an old square body Chevy he said it was his dads, I said did you switch tanks that truck has dual tanks. He just gave me a blank stare like he has no clue what I was talking about. I said lets go back and try it I will take you back to your truck. No he just wanted to call his dad. Whatever. As he was on the phone with his dad I heard his dad say did you switch the tanks kid said no. I asked again you want me to turn around. No he just wanted me to give him a ride to the gas station his dad would come get him.

His dad had to drive over an hour to pick him up. I hope his dad beat him when he found out he just had to hit the switch on the dash.
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Sure he already knew he had ran the battery dead trying to start it. Oh well, huh the old days of switchin the tank almost forgot about that era. Thanks lol
 
In the 80's hitchhiked all the time, picked up a few when started driving.
last time was in early 90's Bum fuck Idaho locked up a wheel bearing on the bronco, couple in a 2 door S-10 picked up me and wife it was a tight fit, drove us 15 miles to nearest "town", called a tow truck from a bar, bartender call her son to ride us back to the bronco. (bartender also questioned me about weather we were tree hugging pussys in town to spike trees)
 
Did a lot of hitchhiking in HS. Always helped to walk like you’re crippled up.
Hitched many times from Treasure Island SF to Fresno. To see a girl of course. Rides in cab over hay trucks ruined me for life. Had to get me one of those big rigs. Uniform helped a lot.
This little dumbass hillbilly learned a lot about wicked ways of Gomorrah.
Hitched rides once back east for Christmas leave. Don’t remember much of it except stranded on interstate junction in Kansas City, Mo. Big dump truck ride outta town then a car ride to St Louis. Told the driver to drop me off at airport. Got the last seat on plane via military standby. Made it home in same time frame as a solo cross country drive.
Picked up a few split tails in truck stops later in life. If they passed the ‘look, smell and taste’ test things got interesting.
I wouldn’t even think of doing that shit nowadays.
 
Almost never have, ever. Then last week I'm in NAPA and a guy walks up, asks me is that my jeep out there, compliments it etc. Curious what all I've done. Then I say I have to go, he says, hey, can you drop me at the bank up town 1/2 mile away, by this time he's seeming a bit weird. Has tons of pins/rods/screws in his leg, can't walk, poor me etc etc. Ok, fuck it, it's close. That was a painful 1/2 mile, and my regret grew every block. Knew more than me about everything. Doesn't have a car but was headed up to ask for a loan to buy one. He bought a 79 rust free Ford the other day for $200 running. It escalated from there. Sang in Nashville, hell of a cook, I ought to stop by his camper :laughing:. Spies my beer coozie in the console, "Hey, do you have a spare beer coozie I can have, I lost mine and I have $20 in my pocket and my buddy and I are buying $20 worth of beer and drinking it today after I get a car!"
Jayzus, at this point I'm wondering if somebody put a nickel in him and what it takes to shut him up. Pulling up the last block, "Hey you're a farmer, where do you live?"
Points in wrong direction, that way, get out.
That might have cured me of being nice for a bit.
 
In 1967 I was driving my old Ford station wagon up 101 from San Francisco on a rainy summer night. It was one of those heavy Northern California storms where the wipers can’t keep up and it’s all you can do to stay in your lane. I was on my way to Eureka to spend the weekend with some friends and as I came around a corner on that dark, wet highway I saw a figure standing soaked on the shoulder with one hand holding down his straw hat and the other with a thumb out. I thought my god, it wasn’t fit for man nor beast to be out in that kind of weather so I pulled over to give the poor soul a ride. He picked up a battered guitar case and an old army surplus duffel bag off of the wet pavement and ran to my car. He opened the back door and tossed his stuff inside, slammed the door shut then hopped in the front with a relieved sigh. I asked his name and where he was heading and he replied that his name was Gary and he was hitching his way up to Eugene to join a group that was going to protest the Vietnam war the next weekend. I looked over my shoulder at his gear in the back. A peace sign was stitched to the duffel bag laying next to the pawn shop guitar and I realized that I’d picked up a fucking hippie. God damn it, I’d never get rid of him. I looked over at Gary as we pulled back onto the highway, at his long hair spilling out from under that dumb old straw hat. He was quite a bit older than me but he had a sparkle that said he had a much younger spirit than most middle aged men had in the sixties. We chatted about the war, about music, about our lives. He disagreed with just about everything I said but he kept most of his judgements to himself. After some time he pulled an old cigarette case out of jacket pocket and selected a fat joint from inside of it. We passed it back and forth as we drove. Then another, and another. Soon the rain came down even harder and we pulled over into a gravel lot to wait out the storm. We were high, and relaxed. Feeling more at ease with each other. The next thing I knew we were kissing and touching each other. We moved to the back of the wagon. Gary unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the largest dildo I had ever seen. It was the size of my forearm and fist! I told him there was no way I could handle that thing. He said it wasn’t for me, it was for him. Then he handed it to me. I worked it into him, then buried it. Gary was electrified with it. It was sickening and exhilarating at the same time. Afterwards, without a word, we moved back to the front seat and continued on our way, eventually we passed an all night diner and he asked to be let out. I never saw him again but I think about him all these years later. I actually found him on Facebook. He’s an old man now, living in San Diego.
 
Your Mom said:
In 1967 I was driving my old Ford station wagon up 101 from San Francisco on a rainy summer night. It was one of those heavy Northern California storms where the wipers can’t keep up and it’s all you can do to stay in your lane. I was on my way to Eureka to spend the weekend with some friends and as I came around a corner on that dark, wet highway I saw a figure standing soaked on the shoulder with one hand holding down his straw hat and the other with a thumb out. I thought my god, it wasn’t fit for man nor beast to be out in that kind of weather so I pulled over to give the poor soul a ride. He picked up a battered guitar case and an old army surplus duffel bag off of the wet pavement and ran to my car. He opened the back door and tossed his stuff inside, slammed the door shut then hopped in the front with a relieved sigh. I asked his name and where he was heading and he replied that his name was Gary and he was hitching his way up to Eugene to join a group that was going to protest the Vietnam war the next weekend. I looked over my shoulder at his gear in the back. A peace sign was stitched to the duffel bag laying next to the pawn shop guitar and I realized that I’d picked up a fucking hippie. God damn it, I’d never get rid of him. I looked over at Gary as we pulled back onto the highway, at his long hair spilling out from under that dumb old straw hat. He was quite a bit older than me but he had a sparkle that said he had a much younger spirit than most middle aged men had in the sixties. We chatted about the war, about music, about our lives. He disagreed with just about everything I said but he kept most of his judgements to himself. After some time he pulled an old cigarette case out of jacket pocket and selected a fat joint from inside of it. We passed it back and forth as we drove. Then another, and another. Soon the rain came down even harder and we pulled over into a gravel lot to wait out the storm. We were high, and relaxed. Feeling more at ease with each other. The next thing I knew we were kissing and touching each other. We moved to the back of the wagon. Gary unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the largest dildo I had ever seen. It was the size of my forearm and fist! I told him there was no way I could handle that thing. He said it wasn’t for me, it was for him. Then he handed it to me. I worked it into him, then buried it. Gary was electrified with it. It was sickening and exhilarating at the same time. Afterwards, without a word, we moved back to the front seat and continued on our way, eventually we passed an all night diner and he asked to be let out. I never saw him again but I think about him all these years later. I actually found him on Facebook. He’s an old man now, living in San Diego.
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Awesome!
 
I got picked up alot in the station wagon from the jerk, pretty sure it was the same size family too.
 
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Your Mom said:
In 1967 I was driving my old Ford station wagon up 101 from San Francisco on a rainy summer night. It was one of those heavy Northern California storms where the wipers can’t keep up and it’s all you can do to stay in your lane. I was on my way to Eureka to spend the weekend with some friends and as I came around a corner on that dark, wet highway I saw a figure standing soaked on the shoulder with one hand holding down his straw hat and the other with a thumb out. I thought my god, it wasn’t fit for man nor beast to be out in that kind of weather so I pulled over to give the poor soul a ride. He picked up a battered guitar case and an old army surplus duffel bag off of the wet pavement and ran to my car. He opened the back door and tossed his stuff inside, slammed the door shut then hopped in the front with a relieved sigh. I asked his name and where he was heading and he replied that his name was Gary and he was hitching his way up to Eugene to join a group that was going to protest the Vietnam war the next weekend. I looked over my shoulder at his gear in the back. A peace sign was stitched to the duffel bag laying next to the pawn shop guitar and I realized that I’d picked up a fucking hippie. God damn it, I’d never get rid of him. I looked over at Gary as we pulled back onto the highway, at his long hair spilling out from under that dumb old straw hat. He was quite a bit older than me but he had a sparkle that said he had a much younger spirit than most middle aged men had in the sixties. We chatted about the war, about music, about our lives. He disagreed with just about everything I said but he kept most of his judgements to himself. After some time he pulled an old cigarette case out of jacket pocket and selected a fat joint from inside of it. We passed it back and forth as we drove. Then another, and another. Soon the rain came down even harder and we pulled over into a gravel lot to wait out the storm. We were high, and relaxed. Feeling more at ease with each other. The next thing I knew we were kissing and touching each other. We moved to the back of the wagon. Gary unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the largest dildo I had ever seen. It was the size of my forearm and fist! I told him there was no way I could handle that thing. He said it wasn’t for me, it was for him. Then he handed it to me. I worked it into him, then buried it. Gary was electrified with it. It was sickening and exhilarating at the same time. Afterwards, without a word, we moved back to the front seat and continued on our way, eventually we passed an all night diner and he asked to be let out. I never saw him again but I think about him all these years later. I actually found him on Facebook. He’s an old man now, living in San Diego.
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:laughing:
 
I hitchiked a lot in my teens in the 70's. To colorado and back, lots of trips to Santa Cruz or SF for concerts or up 395 for backpacking trips... mostly really cool people, lots of rides in the back of pickup trucks. Never got hassled or ripped off. I did get to have sex with two girls once... they had a cool old station wagon and were kind of wild hippy chicks. Pretty fun, ended up spending a couple days with them.

The weird story was when I was in college, I was driving to Atherton from the LA area in my vw and in santa barbara, I saw a guy hitching and thought it would help keep me awake to have a rider. He had a pack and got in... we were driving a little while and he said, 'you wanna see something crazy?' and I said, 'okay, what is it?' 'oh, I gotta show it to you.'

Then he reaches into the back seat, opens his pack and he has a clear plastic bag FULL of money that is bundled like at a bank.

'My 18th birthday was last week, I had to wait a week for the bank, but this is my inheritance, can you believe this shit!' and he laughs like crazy.... giddy.

I shake my head and think, 'this dude is LITTLE, this is stupid on so many fronts'

He puts it back and we drive along through the night. about 3 in the morning, I pull off for gas in King City and to get coffee... he goes to go in with me and I say, 'dude, you should stay with the car' and he says, 'why?'

and I tell him, 'do you realize how stupid it was to show me the money or how stupid it was to have it all on you? do you have ANY protection at all?'

he is silent and goes back to the car.

I get us coffee and donuts or whatever, when I start driving, he says, 'are you going to kill me?'

and I said, 'of course not, but, think of all the people who would knock you in the head and take the money? You need to hide that stuff and get it in the bank when you get home.'

and he says, 'home, I just left home, I just figured I'd buy stuff along the way with this.'

I dropped him off in Sunnyvale or San Jose... I don't think that kid was alive for very long.
 
Your Mom said:
In 1967 I was driving my old Ford station wagon up 101 from San Francisco on a rainy summer night. It was one of those heavy Northern California storms where the wipers can’t keep up and it’s all you can do to stay in your lane. I was on my way to Eureka to spend the weekend with some friends and as I came around a corner on that dark, wet highway I saw a figure standing soaked on the shoulder with one hand holding down his straw hat and the other with a thumb out. I thought my god, it wasn’t fit for man nor beast to be out in that kind of weather so I pulled over to give the poor soul a ride. He picked up a battered guitar case and an old army surplus duffel bag off of the wet pavement and ran to my car. He opened the back door and tossed his stuff inside, slammed the door shut then hopped in the front with a relieved sigh. I asked his name and where he was heading and he replied that his name was Gary and he was hitching his way up to Eugene to join a group that was going to protest the Vietnam war the next weekend. I looked over my shoulder at his gear in the back. A peace sign was stitched to the duffel bag laying next to the pawn shop guitar and I realized that I’d picked up a fucking hippie. God damn it, I’d never get rid of him. I looked over at Gary as we pulled back onto the highway, at his long hair spilling out from under that dumb old straw hat. He was quite a bit older than me but he had a sparkle that said he had a much younger spirit than most middle aged men had in the sixties. We chatted about the war, about music, about our lives. He disagreed with just about everything I said but he kept most of his judgements to himself. After some time he pulled an old cigarette case out of jacket pocket and selected a fat joint from inside of it. We passed it back and forth as we drove. Then another, and another. Soon the rain came down even harder and we pulled over into a gravel lot to wait out the storm. We were high, and relaxed. Feeling more at ease with each other. The next thing I knew we were kissing and touching each other. We moved to the back of the wagon. Gary unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the largest dildo I had ever seen. It was the size of my forearm and fist! I told him there was no way I could handle that thing. He said it wasn’t for me, it was for him. Then he handed it to me. I worked it into him, then buried it. Gary was electrified with it. It was sickening and exhilarating at the same time. Afterwards, without a word, we moved back to the front seat and continued on our way, eventually we passed an all night diner and he asked to be let out. I never saw him again but I think about him all these years later. I actually found him on Facebook. He’s an old man now, living in San Diego.
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You need to double space that shit bitch....like the gap where your teeth used to be.:eek:
 
I commuted by thumb for a few years in Ontario. 2005-2008.
Got picked up by some drug dealers that I smoked a joint with, then ended up partying with for a couple days. Good folks, DJ and Amanda. Very generous.
Got picked up by a guy who said people were afraid of hitchhikers, but hitchhikers should be afraid of who picks them up, then started listing the weapons he had in the truck, and how he could dispose of a body so easy. I told him that was why I carried a knife, and flicked it out then just kinda kept messing with it while we had an otherwise normal conversation.
Got picked up by a woman who berated me the whole ride for being a drain on society for not having a car. 2 months later I was going through the repossessed contents of her store after she hadn't payed rent for 6 months.
Got picked up by the cops on the 400 trying to get home with a quarter pound of weed in my backpack, he gave me a ride to the 400 and 89, and sent me on my way.

As I remember more I'll post em up.
 
I picked up a guy walking up the middle of the road, at midnight, on Christmas Eve, in the middle of a bad snowstorm, on a back road. I first noticed footprints in the road about 1000 yards behind him, hollered at him to hop in and warm up. Blasted the heat, and asked him why he had a deathwish walking up the middle of the road, said he had no car and needed to get to his kids mother's house to see them for Christmas, next town over. My house was along the way, so I wasn't tipping him off to that, so I drove him up to the town line, and I'd had enough to drink I wasn't going into the next town. Dude was super thankful.

Driving to college one day I'm sitting at a red light and theres someone in the crosswalk. He stops and stares at me and hollers my name. It was a friend's jailbird brother who had just gotten out and was walking home :laughing: Gave him a ride but I sorta knew who he was so I guess it doesn't count as a hitchhiker.

Guy my buddy worked for was a drunk who hadn't held a drivers license in years, but ran his own small business doing sheetrock. Everyday they'd finish a job, my buddy would drop him off at a gas station, and dude would hitchhike home with a 30 rack on his shoulder. He would occasionally hook up with some party people and disappear for a few days, then pop up like nothing happened. Still see him every now and then he's a riot.
 
posford said:
Guy my buddy worked for was a drunk who hadn't held a drivers license in years, but ran his own small business doing sheetrock. Everyday they'd finish a job, my buddy would drop him off at a gas station, and dude would hitchhike home with a 30 rack on his shoulder. He would occasionally hook up with some party people and disappear for a few days, then pop up like nothing happened. Still see him every now and then he's a riot.
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Sounds about like the drywallers I know of.

Aaron Z
 
aczlan said:
Sounds about like the drywallers I know of.

Aaron Z
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Dude is gotta be 60 now, wiry Frenchman, can hang more 'rock alone than most crews will do in a day. Straight savage.
 
necro thread alert.

Picked up a hitchhiker a couple weeks ago. I was hauling compost out to Dad's place and went by the first time and saw him/her. appeared to be clean, backpack, not smoking or strung out looking. Figured if they were still there on the second trip i would stop and see if they needed a lift. Second run I pull over and offer a ride. It's 100* out and humid as hell. I honestly thought it was a skinny flat chested chick until he opened the door. Dude had long braided hair to the middle of his back. Prolly mid 20s just seeing the country. I dropped him about 20 miles down the road and went on my way to Dad's.

Was pretty interesting to talk to him. I asked him if he ever ran into trouble and he said not he'd never been robbed, beaten stabbed or anything. He appeared to be well fed, wasn't a dirty hippy by appearance and didn't have any weird ticks about him. From the sound of talking to him he pretty much just walked, hitchhiked and couch crashed from generous strangers. Said people would let him crash, offer a meal and a shower. I didn't get the impression that he worked for his dinner just coasted on hospitality. Said MO was the farthest east he had been. Louisiana farthest south, ND/Canadian border to the north and the PNW to the west. Said he wanted to see the country before he was tied down with wife/kids/debt and couldn't travel. He has a cellphone so either he had family back home paying for it or he bought phone cards/had money given to him for it?

Seems like such a foreign thing to me to be relying on people's generosity to survive. I guess he didn't know the rules of the road since I didn't get offered a bj.. :flipoff2:


yea cool starry bra.
 
I picked up a guy walking down the highway with a bow. He got to chasing elk across the mountain and ended up lost as fuck and a long long ways from where he wanted to be. Come to find out this isnt the first time he has done this. Said his buddies wouldnt be looking for him until tomorrow. Sure as shit, when I got up to their camp they were all drinking beer and were rather impressed that he made it back to camp the same day that he had left it.:laughing:


KungFooMASTA said:
I guess I picked a guy up the other day that was walking, I saw his truck on the side of the road so I figured he was broke down. Some kid in is early 20s said his truck just died and his cell phone was dead. I said you can use my phone and I will give you a ride. I asked what happened he said he just stopped in town because he was almost out of gas and he got fuel and made it a few miles and it died. It was an old square body Chevy he said it was his dads, I said did you switch tanks that truck has dual tanks. He just gave me a blank stare like he has no clue what I was talking about. I said lets go back and try it I will take you back to your truck. No he just wanted to call his dad. Whatever. As he was on the phone with his dad I heard his dad say did you switch the tanks kid said no. I asked again you want me to turn around. No he just wanted me to give him a ride to the gas station his dad would come get him.
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I did that shit in high school in my own truck:homer: called the old man because I was out of gas. He brought a can out, and stood there staring at the truck an then asked if I ran both tanks dry. I forgot it even had a second tank. He was so proud of me:lmao: Bought another older ford this winter. First thing he did when he saw it, was remind me that it has 2 tanks too..Fuckers been sitting on that for 17 years just waiting:lmao:
 
Steve300xcw said:
I picked up a guy walking down the highway with a bow. He got to chasing elk across the mountain and ended up lost as fuck and a long long ways from where he wanted to be. Come to find out this isnt the first time he has done this. Said his buddies wouldnt be looking for him until tomorrow. Sure as shit, when I got up to their camp they were all drinking beer and were rather impressed that he made it back to camp the same day that he had left it.:laughing:




I did that shit in high school in my own truck:homer: called the old man because I was out of gas. He brought a can out, and stood there staring at the truck an then asked if I ran both tanks dry. I forgot it even had a second tank. He was so proud of me:lmao: Bought another older ford this winter. First thing he did when he saw it, was remind me that it has 2 tanks too..Fuckers been sitting on that for 17 years just waiting:lmao:
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i think i would invest on one of those cheap handheld Garmin GPS units or something if i was him. :homer:
 
Picked up 2 illegals once in NM. I saw the engine in their van let loose right in front of me so I didn’t think it was a risk. Drove from just outside of Las Cruces to Denver that day so they could get to work the next morning.
They gave me $20 and a fifth of Mexican brandy.
If I ever see those guys again I’ll kick their ass because that brandy was some rot gut hangover special shit. :laughing:

I25 again and I stopped for a guy. I would have sworn he was William Dafoe. Nice guy, he got about 500 miles further up the road.

Last one for now: picked up a dude outside of Bozeman headed for Glacier park. Said he left Boston a month before and was just sleeping in the ditch when he didn’t have a ride. Sure smelled like it.
Mentioned that he kept all his food in his sleeping bag. I told him it would be a good idea to stop doing that since he was in bear country and was headed to a grizzly area.
He couldn’t grasp why and just said he’d take his chances rather than have to get up and grab a snack at night. :lmao: I wonder if he ever made it home.
 
I HATE PONIES said:
My wife and I gave someone a ride a few years back. He was walking down the highway with a bag slung over his shoulder.

When he got in I asked him what was in the bag just to make conversation. He answered "its none of your fucking business".

This concerned my wife enough that she also asked him what was in the bag.

He shouted at her "IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKIN BUSINESS"!

I pulled over and told the bastard to get out now right now.

When we got home and start unloading the groceries we discovered that he had left the bag in the car.
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:lmao:


Fucker
 
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