Highway Song

Back On The Highway, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Back On The Road Again


Wapakoneta, Ohio
Dec. 15, 1970

When we reached Ohio, it was raining and snowing. We were already
wet when some kids stopped and picked us up. We were hitching from a
good spot (walking distance to a gas station), and it was night, so
I asked the kid if he planned to drop us off at a good place to
hitch from (otherwise we would wait for a better ride). The driver
of the car said, "No problem." An hour later we were dropped off at
a country road exit, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the
night. I was pissed. If it wasn't for Denny holding me back, there
might have been some blood spilled on the highway. Instead, after
the car pulled away, there were only two very cold and depressed
hitchhikers on the highway, standing alone, in the middle of a sleet
storm.

Trying to catch a ride at 2 a.m. in a sleet storm was impossible. We
were freezing, and all we had was a wool blanket and a pair of
rubber waders (On his way out to San Francisco, Denny forgot that he
left his favorite fishing waders in the trunk of the car. Rather
than throw them away, he had been lugging them around). We were
freezing to death, and we had to get out of the weather. We were
already under an overpass (the one where we were abandoned), so we
crawled up to the flat ledge directly under the steal girders and I
wrapped the blanket around the both of us, the same blanket that I
had been carrying around since Arizona. With Denny already inside
his waders, and the blanket around both of us, I pressed up against
Denny's back in an attempt to keep warm. We tried to sleep, but it
didn't work, we were just too wet and cold. Faced with our
uncomfortable, even dangerous situation, we went back down to the
highway and started walking. I could barely walk I was shivering so
badly.

Finally, an Ohio pig stopped. He said, "It's against to law to
hitchhike on the expressway," and then he took us to jail. I still
had the acid in my shirt pocket when we entered the police station.
I was so stiff and cold I couldn't dispose of it. It was securely
tucked under my sweater and my jacket. I didn't want to arouse
suspicion, so I just let it be. At the station, the pig at the desk
became judge, jury and executioner. He fined us $10. each, which was
fair, except I didn't have $10. I had spent the last of my money on
the acid. Denny bailed himself out and had $4. left over, which he
put up for my bail, but that wasn't enough. After the pigs realized
they weren't going to get any more money, they accepted my watch as
a substitute for the other $6. They knew I wouldn't come back with
the $6. and get my watch back, so they got a pretty good deal. With
no money (we couldn't even get them to give us a dime for coffee),
no watch, and still cold and hungry, the same pig who arrested us
took us back to the highway and dropped us off, but not before
telling us that it was against the law to hitchhike on the
expressway. I'm not complaining. At least I didn't get busted for
holding acid.

In spite of everything, and after another twelve grueling hours on
the highway, we arrived home in one piece. I swore off hitchhiking
after that. Hitchhiking had been good to me. I learned a lot from
the people that had picked me up, but what I needed to learn now was
probably not going to come from any more hitchhiking. Besides, never
again would I put myself through the kind of torture that I had just
survived.