On The Road Of Life...
...you should always make sure you have plenty of gas. I (re)learned this tidbit of wisdow while heading down the road to Midland to meet up with a friend of mine. Another tip: Even though the gas guage assures you there is plenty of fuel remaining you should never trust that it is in working condition. Lesson learned.
Being in the west Texas desert it's easy to find oneself more than a few miles from anywhere that sells fuel of any type. While I was only about five miles from such a place I still thought little of walking all the way there. I had, of course, in my possession my magic thumb that would (or rather, "should") get me a ride in no time. At least I hoped.
Getting a lift in my "homeland" is a significantly different experience from the hitching I'm accustomed to in the other countries I've thumbed through. Here I found myself standing next to a decent looking vehicle in the very picture of "the middle of nowhere", obviously stranded and appealing at passing cars for help, and hardly receiving a glance. Drivers with empty seats in their cars seemingly went out of their way not to look my way at all. Were they thinking "if he doesn't see me looking at him he'll probably just think i didn't stop because i didn't see him." Instead I was thinking that either a) if they truly don't see me i'm terrified to think what else they're missing on the road, or, more likely b) "that a$$hole saw me and not only didn't think twice about stopping to see if i needed help but treated me like he would a beggar on the streets by ignoring me".
Ok, I admit, my recent experiences have spoiled me. In New Zealand or Australia, where i've racked up the majority of my hitching miles, I have a hard time imagining this ever happening. People, by comparison, were so incredibly welcoming to most everyone and especially strangers. Sure, not every car that passed my thumb in New Zealand stopped for me but almost all of them at least acknowledged my existance. I had grown unaccustomed to the careful (ie. "suspicious/untrusting/ultra-conservative") ways of my breathern.
But, as the law-of-averages states, you can't lose all the time. Just before I had given up all faith in the idea of Texas Hospitality a brown truck pulled over for me. Two guys on their way home from work in the oil fields were happy to not only take me to the nearest gas station but insisted on driving me back to my Jeep.
On the way back I found myself taking a moment to recognize my (somewhat) restored confidence in my fellow man when another thought occurred to me. I didn't find it at all strange to be riding in the back of truck driven by two strangers. Even when they first pulled up to me I honestly gave little consideration to jumping right in over their tailgate. I simply trusted my intuition and went with it. Would I might have done the same thing 15 months ago before I started my own brand of gonzo-traveling? I can't be sure.
So there I was riding in the back of a stranger’s truck staring at the clouds in the sky while the wind whipped through my hair. I couldn’t help but smile.
