Ride 1: Jesse/Ghazi (“Kah-zee”)
Less than ten minutes had passed when Jesse pulled over and began rearranging his car to let us in. He was our first ride, and he was a friendly man from Jerusalem who had lived in California for eight years. He told us about his involvement in peace talks held all over the world and about the time he met the late Pope.
“What kind of a guy was he?” Tom wondered.
Jesse replied that he didn’t really know, he’d just been blessed by him. But he did say “I don’t think God needs a middle man or a postman.”
When he dropped us off, Jesse generously gave us his phone number in case we got stuck, saying that he would be in the area waiting for a call about work. We thanked him, shook hands and went on our way.
We hadn’t even left the shopping area car park where we’d sourced some more cardboard and written “Florence” before a man pulled over, excitedly shouting “I’m going there!” and we were off on our second ride.
Joe was driving a pick up truck to the next town, and was happy to let us jump in for the ride. Exhilarated at our second consecutive successful hitchhike, we both later reported the experience feeling a little surreal as we drove along the windy coastal track, often exclaiming at its beauty.
Joe had two plastic skeletons dangling above his steering wheel. Given that he’d just recently recovered from open heart surgery, the skeletons seemed like a poignant symbol of mortality.
“I bow down to no man,” he told us.
Joe didn't talk much unless he had something to say. He struck us as a very kind man: he didn't have much but was generous. For one thing, he picked us up without a moment’s hesitation despite his natural introversion and asked nothing in return. Second, despite being a local, he stopped at a stunning lookout to show us where the sea lions live.
“If the kids could vote, I’d be mayor of that place,” he said.
He dropped us off in Florence and said our goodbyes. He kindly told us that if we couldn’t get a ride that day to the next town, he knew a place we could stay for free. We said thank you for the ride and parted ways.
We wrote a new sign, ambitiously writing a relatively far off town, and tried our luck. Two young guys stopped and offered us a ride part of the way. We declined, both independently sensing that the guys might not be our kind of people. We just told them we wanted to go further South than they were going and thanked them for offering: no hard feelings.
If anyone reading this is thinking about hitchhiking themselves, remember you can ALWAYS say ‘no’, for any reason you like. Just because someone pulled over, does not mean you've entered into a social contract that you can’t break. Trust your instincts: there will always be another way.
It was afternoon when we had been dropped off, and we realised that most of the traffic was probably not going far: locals returning home from work. We decided to rest in Florence for the night and got a room. Our first day of hitching down the 101 and we’d covered just over 74 miles. Not bad… and it was about to get even better!
Got any questions about our first day of hitching, or want to share a story of your own? Comment below!