Brewmaniac

This really hits home with me, back in late 70's and the early 80's my brother lived in Paris. I was lucky enough to visit several times, he would put me to work for spending money. One time, I was about twenty, he put to work scraping & sanding windows. My future Sister-in-Law introduced me to a guy from out east somewhere, Philly maybe, that was staying with a French family for the summer. My brother hired him to help me repaint the restaurant. We hung out and worked together. We decided to go to the south of France and check the beaches along the Mediterranean. We made plans to meet at an outdoor café nearest the train station in Toulon. I would take the train and he would ride most of the way with his french family and hitch to Toulon. I was really excited on the trains long ride. I got there and found the nearest café and sat down with a cold beer. I waited and waited, finally had find a nearby hotel room. Next day back at the café, surely he would show up soon, I finally started to explore the area, checking back every few hours. Eventually back in cheap hotel to sleep. Next day check out around train station. Then finally I jumped a bus for San Trope, absolutely beautiful beaches and the water the most amazing blue I’d ever seen. The whole topless beach thing is over rated after about 10 minutes it was nothing. I bummed around several small towns along the Mediterranean over the next 3 days. It was like being in strange land because I spoke so little french. So I headed back to Paris, wondering what happened to my new friend. I walked into my brother's restaurant and when he saw me he turned white. He said sit down and pointed at the end of the bar, he poured me a glass of whiskey gave me a hug and said drink this. He proceeded to tell me he was so glad to see me and that he had to tell me something important. He went on to explain that my new friend left the family he was staying with and was hitch hiking to meet me when some guys picked him up and murdered him!
My brother was almost in tears at this point explaining he didn't know if I was with him at that point or not. He was really scared.
What an horrible way for the kid to die.

Sad that I can't even remember his name.

So no my family doesn't pick up hitch hikers!

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"That's a joke... I say, that's a joke, son"

captobvious

I've never picked up a hitchhiker, although I think it'd be an interesting experience to do it. I probably never will though, because I don't think it'd be worth the risk. This doesn't mean I wouldn't stop to help out people who are obviously stranded on the road though.

pornclerk

There's no way in hell I would ever pick up a hitch hiker. You never know who you could be picking up!

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Who wants a twig when you can have the whole tree?

Val_1

I have never picked up a hitch hiker. Though, I have been picked up after my car went off the road. So, I figure I do need to even out the karma at some point. But, up here in Minnesota, I think I've only seen one real hitchkiker. In the spring the same guy every year sits by the off ramp from highway 14. And he sits there for *hours* (probably a full 8 or 10 hours before anyone picks him up) thumbing a ride. He's kind of like a robin, letting me know when spring has arrived.

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I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.

-Frank Sinatra

little_tippler

Have never seen one in Portugal. But no, I would never. I don't know the person or what they could do...I already have a hard time trusting people I know so.

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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.

Fernando Pessoa, 1918

rmarshall

I pick up hitchhikers occasionally. I live in Canada, in Kingston Ontario. We don't have too many crazies here. But I would rather pickup somebody coming east from Toronto, rather than west to Toronto. The ones going west could be escapees from one of the prisons around Kingston.
Conversations with the hitchhiker makes the trip seem much shorter. More than once it's been somebody from Atlantic Canada going home after either striking out in Toronto or just homesick and broke.
One time I left Napanee to go to Toronto, picked up a hitchhiker and then realized I forgot my wallet. I drove home with the hitchhiker in the car to get it. My girlfriend at the time was so pissed I did that!

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"Do not resent growing old. Many are denied the privilege" Irish proverb

Smooth23

Living where I live, not to mention the supermax prison just outside of town. Nope, no hitchhikers for me.

fnaqzna

I've picked up a few... in recent memory... I picked up a young guy between Mojave and Ridgecrest. The desert is dangerously hot so I felt compelled to stop. Turns out, the kid was just out of jail and on his way home.

I've picked up most in-between Walker Pass and Onyx. The Pacific Coast Trail runs right through Walker Pass. Most of these hitch-hikers have been walkers on the PCT and at this point they are a month or so into a 4-5 month walk. They are usually looking for a ride to or from the local store so they can stock up on supplies. In my experience, PCT walkers have always been fascinating and worth giving a lift.

The last hikers I picked up were in June. They left a nice entry in their trail journal.