Last night the storm passed as abrubtedly as it came. Strong winds up to 80 miles per hour and light drizzle only lasted for approximately 15 minutes.
After using the restroom at the nearby truck stop, buying breakfast, and packing up my fear, I decided to hitchhike early on the ramp of interstate 40. Lebanon is very close to Nashville and the area was way too congested. Even with all those cars and trucks no one stopped after an hour. The sheriff and state troopers had no trouble with me standing on the ramp and hitchhiking, and the state trooper even waved in exchange for my wave. Then 2 gonorrhea-head police officers, and the driving officer said in a southern accent while passing, "There's no hitching. Go on now." The entrance ramp had 2 shoulders on each side of the road so it was plenty safe. What a schmuck head!
I shouldn't get on the schmuckhead's case too badly. It always seemed if I can weather the difficult times, something good will eventually come. Later in the day, as well as the next day, I would find this would be very true. This morning life wasn't unfair: It was just rerouting me around a detour.
If there was an emergency weather watch last night, this morning's heatwave gave no hints of it. Luckily, US 231 crosses interstate 40 and goes south, which would be a reasonable alternative. I walked back to the truck stop, and noticed a woman with a single bag of luggage. Lebanon has one of the larger truck stops and many travelers try to catch rides off the truckers heading in to rest or fuel. I still didn't have the nerves to ask any of the truckers on the fuel islands for a ride because they are not suppose to provide rides if they aren't independent. I went across the street and in front of closed-down restaurant just to avoid the sun.
I asked the travelling lady if she had much money, and she replied she only had a few dollars. Then she quickly clutched her purse as though I was going to rob her. I offerred $3, and she was very appreciative. "Maybe we can a ride together," she stated. I wasn't sure in which direction she was travelling, and I was afraid a bit to travel with someone else so I decline.
While resting, I talked myself into asking for a ride just past Nashville which would allow me to still stay on the interstate without having a trucker having a long-distance guest. None of the truckers on the island were actually going west, instead they were all heading east, or so they say. In my heart, I knew these drivers were like much of the passenger vehicle drivers: only a very few would have enough sympathy or compassion to accept a stranger. After asking 5 or 6 drivers on the fuel island, I knew this morning would involve walking.
A mile later on US 231, I started hitching without luck for 30 minutes. Only 30 minutes later, James and his son Clint in a rig halted in front of me. I was really quite surprised a commercial truck stopped. Clint moved into the back and allowed me to sit in front with his father.
James did not have to make the delivery till a few hours later in the day, so we stopped at the Waffle House, where he bought me lunch. It took me by suprise when he asked me what college I attended.
Originally, when I was very fearful of hitchhiking in the south because of some bad racial experiences about 10 years ago; however, it turned out the south has been wonderful and today would be the best hitchhiking I've ever had.
In the early morning I walked away from town, but it ended up not being the road I wanted to be on; therefore, after 3 miles I tried hitchhiking back into Shelbyville.
I still cannot believe Emily picked me up at what seemed to be the wealthy exterior of Shelbyville. Not only was she gorgeous, she also spoke and taught Spanish, spoke some French, had friends currently hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, and was applying for the Peace Corp. (Emily quit her job teaching at the junior high school to apply with the Peace Corp.) Unfortunately, the ride was short and my rule of hitchhiking was to be polite and appreciative, but nothing more. I'll have to rethink that sometimes because part of me felt I stumbled onto someone worthwhile. But then maybe nothing would have come out of it or she may have had a boyfriend. Dale, who had given me a ride in Maine, had asked after commenting on my appearance, "What if a beautiful woman gave you a ride?" That situation wasn't something I pondered to ever come true, but over a week later, I was in that position. (Being clean cut and showering yesterday probably made the difference.)
She said she spoke Spanish fluently, but I didn't give it too much thought, but it did remind me of Jill, who also knew Spanish well. After she mentioned she was a teacher and confirmed she taught Spanish before quitting, I broke out in a short laughter. Clarifying myself, "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I would have never guessed you taught Spanish."
Last year, I met Luke, and he drove us from Oregon to Minnesota. Luke had recently completed a stint with AmeriCorp, and I suggested AmeriCorp as an alternative to Peace Corp because of the 2 year commitment. However, Emily had heard bad things about AmeriCorp.
Emily dropped me almost exactly where James had dropped me off yesterday. It was a short drive, and before we went seperate ways, a part of me wanted to say something more. But that moment was a ripple of water gone so quickly after the pebble drop.
Walking another couple miles to other end of Shelbyville, I caught a ride with Eric, who was heading to work late this morning after changing the thermometer in his Honda Civic Hatchback. He commuted 65 miles everyday out of Tennessee into Huntsville, Alabama. Because we arrived near his work place near noon, he offered to take me out to eat at a inexpensive, decent restaurant. They really served big platters for $6.00, which included drink. Not only was Eric cool about the hitch and meal, but he was also able to rural end of Huntsville for easier hitchhiking.
Eric worked for a technology company named Semana. Semana would rear itself again later in the day. It was nice to discuss technology during the hour-long ride and in the restaurant. Being able to discuss nearly anything with anyone has proven beneficial, although it's not my intention to charm- maybe it's more of people having no real expectations: They just want to offer a ride from point A to B.
Reflecting back on the dipshit policeman yesterday: he indirectly pointed me in this direction. Regardless, he's still a putz in my guide to human lifeforms.
The day continued with a ride from David, who's family is originally from Florida, going to work at the autoshop he owned in a small town. After he dropped me off, I stopped at the convenience store, purchased a Dr. Pepper and walked to the edge of town and sat for a while. Across the street, a guy without a pack was walking and hitchhiking unsuccessfully. I hope that wasn't a bad omen.
Other highlights of the day was getting picked up by Timmie and Johnnie, a young guy offering a bottle of water as I headed to the library (which was closed on Tuesday), Keith who was heading into Birmingham tomorrow for a cancer check-up, and Aaron, who also worked for the same company as Eric.
Tony was an interesting person who I almost knew would stop because of the 1976 Ford truck he was driving. There's that sense someone who appears to have very little wealth will stop and offer help. "I paid $1500 for this truck. A while back someone offered $2500 because it's the type of truck people buy to restore." Like Keith who lived under the Atlantic City boardwalk I encountered days ago, Tony was once homeless and clawed his way out of it. He now does odd-and-end jobs by finding work in the paper and radio. His existence was far different than the people in New York who pay $20,000 a year for their country club membership.
Tony worked odds-and-ends jobs by reading the help-wanted section of the newspaper and listening to some trade-fair show on the radio. His most recent job was tearing down a metal shed and recycling the metal. During the month, he had been picking crops for minimum wage. Today, before we headed towards the dog tracks in Birmingham, we made a stop at someone's house to see if he could collect a down-payment of $20 for helping a man's family move tomorrow with the truck we were riding in. "If you have a truck, you can make money. Yes sir, there's a lot of opportunities to make money in this country."
Even though the dog race-track was near the freeway just outside Birmingham, it was not necessarily a good place for hitchhiking. People who win were unlikely to help since they were afraid to be robbed, and if they lost, they were probably too upset to assist. After 30 minutes and bare hints of daylight left, I started walking up the entrance ramp trying to figure where I would take shelter tonight. Another problem was I was out of water.
Wes saw me walking up the entrance ramp and backed up his truck. It was nice of him to stop for a walking stranger during the late evening. "I had given up thinking no one would stop and started to find a place to stay tonight."
Even though I learned it well by now, Wes reminded, "You should never give up." Wes was heading towards the college town of Tuscaloosa, and this would allow me to pass through metropolitan Birmingham. Wes went out of his way and drop me beyond Tuscaloosa out to a rural exit with a gas convenience store down the road. On top of that, he offered money as he dropped me off, but I couldn't accept. How ironic, less than an hour ago I was stuck within a large city and now I have my tent set up on the side of the road behind a forest.
