I woke up at 6 AM to a sunless, snowy morning. Not exactly the start to the day I was hoping for but I got up and began preparing for my day. The goal was to hitchhike 400 miles to Denver and back. By the time I was set to go the sun was starting to push through the clouds.
Maybe today was going to be ok.
I got to the spot on the edge of town I had picked the week before. I had my sign, food, water, and some extra warm clothing. I was as ready as I was going to be.
The sun came out for about half an hour before the storm came in. I knew I wouldn't get picked up by the first car, or the second, but after about 20 cars I was looking longingly towards my apartment building, which was still barely visible from my roadside perch.
It was a cold hour and a half before I finally got a ride. The driver, Chelsea, flagged me down in her old gray van. It was overflowing with stuff and not very comfortable, but the heater was fully functional and I couldn't be happier.
Chelsea drove me the first 50 miles or so and we talked the whole way, mostly about hitchhiking. She, like most people that pick up hitchhikers, used to be one herself and had a good story about thumbing across Texas and meeting a very helpful trucker.
The snow was blowing hard over Monarch pass and we slid a little on the ice but I felt confident in the driving ability of this self proclaimed ski bum (even though her brakes squeaked so bad her car sounded like it was screaming in pain).
Getting out of the car in Salida was tough. Going from the warmth of the car to the cold uncertainty waiting for me on the side of that highway didn't exactly seem appealing. But his was my adventure and I had a long way to go, so I thanked Chelsea and watched her drive away, leaving me completely alone on an unfamiliar road.
Chelsea left me in a good spot though and it didn't take long to get my next ride. A pair of Polish guys, John and Voytek, were my next traveling buddies. The two were driving a Mercedes SUV and were dressed very well for a road trip which made me feel confident they had no reason to kill me, so I got in.
I had a very hard time understanding Voytek, which was unfortunate because he insisted on doing all the talking. He told me they were on their way up to Interstate 70 but I couldn't understand where he said they were heading. It was not Denver though, and I didn't want to be dropped off at I70 because hitchhiking on an interstate is illegal, so I had them drop me off at a fork in the road about 25 miles from where they picked me up. It wasn't a long ride but every bit helps.
This was the first spot that didn't have an obvious place to set up, so I tried a few different places. It's hard to tell how effective a spot is considering most people won't stop for you even if you do everything right.
I decided to walk towards the small town across the overpass and try there. Before I even got all the way across the bridge a car pulled over in front of me and the driver signaled me to come over.
Chris was going all the way to Denver, which made him my favorite person in the world at that moment. He was originally from New York and told me about how he used to hitchhike to work and back when he was a teenager. He used to tell his mom his friends were picking him up so she wouldn't worry.
I made it to Denver at about a quarter to one, which was pretty good time considering I was at the mercy of the fates to get there at all. I ate a good lunch at a truck stop then headed back to the road.
I figured the truck stop would be a good place to find people getting back on the highway so I started trying to get a ride with the truckers leaving. I thought this was going to work until one of the diner employees came and told me to get off their property.
The next best option seemed to be trying the on ramp. It must have been the right idea, because when I got there a scraggly old hitchhiker was already holding down that spot. I was upset but if I went over there it would just mean that neither of us would get a ride, so I walked down to the next ramp (he didn't look like he smelled too great either).
I spent the next three hours at that freeway entrance, watching car after car pass without so much as a glance my direction. The clouds opened up once more and poured down a miserable combination of rain and snow which finished off my already wind torn sign.
Right as I was about to give up a lady pulled over and I had to resist the urge to sprint to her car. Unfortunately she was only going to Golden and it did me more good to stay where I was. I thanked her for stopping and she drove off.
By this time I had been on the road for almost 10 hours and I was done. I called a friend and got a ride to his house just outside Denver. I would have loved to make it in one day, but tomorrow's another day and I'm confident now that there are normal, sane people out there that are willing to give me a ride.
To read how the journey home went, check out 'Adventure of a Greenhorn Hitchhiker, Part 2'.
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