……..

by Sabertash

Posted to Stories on 2002-07-21 00:17:00

Parent message is 237648
What to do, rush down and beat the living shit out of his best friend? He had brought home a nice heavy oak staff to make into a walking stick though it would also make a great club. No, no, it was deserved but he would get his beating from elsewhere it was not his place to be judge and executioner. He sneaked down the hill to the cabin, reloaded his pack left a note that said simply: Varium et mutabile semper femina, and he left. He decided to head north. There was nothing but city between him and the pacific, the south was too hot and east would be a retreat. He also had an Aunt that lived up that way, right on the ocean and some big river. Cape Disappointment right around the corner. Fit his present mood perfect. The only question was should he take 5 or 101? 5 would certainly be faster though getting to the coast could be a problem. 101 would be great and take him right there, but it would take forever and be a damn tough hitch. Well either way it was almost fifty miles before a major road and night was on him with all her weight. He curled up under a bush tightly wrapped in his jacket with his backpack for a pillow and slept away a restless night. He kept being disturbed by strange visions, some seemingly good and some quite the reverse. He seemed to see himself up on stage, celebrated as a great poet and spiritual leader, but this vision soon faded and he saw a dirty lanky form laid out in the gutter. As soon as that unpleasant scene had passed he was at the head of a large diverse and happy family, the next he was hunched over on the floor clutching his head and trying not to scream. He saw his friends and family gathered in mourning then felt himself more free then he ever imagined possible, a part of everything at the same time and conscious of it all. He soon woke feeling as if he had gotten no sleep at all. He stretched and, with a deep sigh stood up and started on his way. He hiked out of the woods about mid day and started hitching for real. The first ride you get when hitching a long distance has a way of setting the mood for the rest of the trip. Something about it seems to control you’re destiny on the road. If the first ride is long in coming you can almost be sure of a hard trip. If the first comes quickly good fortune is bound to follow. You can tell a lot by the driver as well. Different people stop for different reasons. Kindness, loneliness, curiosity or just plain knowing what its like to be stuck without a ride. Some times they just pick you up to test you’re mettle. It was one of these that was lyncho’s first ride. A flatbed truck, no side rails or anything to save you from a spill just a hitch in the very middle. No words even exchanged just a point to the back.
– Well no other choice
Screaming down the mountain, curvy roads fifty miles an hour, holding on for dear life, surprising the truck actually stays on the road much less him staying on the back. Body whipping around with every twist, trying to hold on with one hand and not lose his backpack with the other.
– Shhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fast? Yes! But damn! Talk about a wild ride, knuckles white at every turn of the road, don’t let go! Right off the side of a cliff if you do.
Quickly down to the main road, stop under the shade of a big old Elm tree for a rest and a snack, drain a draught of wine from his bottle after that ride, steady the nerves.
Decision time! One way would take him to 5 quickest but it was a different way to 101. Well the first place he thought a ride would be hard to come by was overcome with ease. 5 was faster and that bastard Timon was probably after him by now with some shitty lie. So the faster rout wins out, he kind of knew it would all along. Another day would be good for a challenge, this stichuation called for speed. So off he headed westward yet for a little while and then northward! And the Ocean! It had been long since he had gazed upon the Pacific and he now felt his blood keenly stir at the thought of it. It took him about an hour to find a ride that would take him down towards 5. It seemed like it was going to be one of you’re normal quite type rides except the driver was obviously all fucked up on coke or something. Grinding hit teeth straining to go ever faster. Luckily the guy seemed to handle the car pretty well so he didn’t worry too much about it and tried to sleep a little. It was about three hundred and eighty miles from here to sanfran and this guy was going straight there, no stops, no rest. It would be a hell of a run. It was a little out of his way but it was a straight shot all the way, right through the farmland and valleys. It was an easy drive and he had done it many times in way worse shape then this guy. He slept for about an hour and a half when the screech of sirens and screams of the driver wakened him. They ran for about another half-hour before the police where able to take them down with spike strips and brute force. They hustled them back to some little shit town and imprisoned them on various serious charges. It was over a week before he got everything straightened out and was escorted to the county-line by the sheriff. By now he was no more then seventy miles or so away from where he could start heading north and was more eager then ever to do so. His next ride was completely normal, thank god. A group of college kids on their way to the big city for the weekend. After they dropped him off he would just catch 99 back and ride up five till he decided to stop. It was about an hour and a half after he was dropped off that it started to rain. Not just a little light drizzle or even a steady rain, this was a full on, call Noah and cleanse the earth of sin type rain. Not the kind anyone in his right mind would hitch in. Since he had nowhere to go he spent a couple dollars of the little money he had to catch a bus to the university district.

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