Oregon Outback

Yesterday I walked several miles north of Lakeview, Oregon on U.S. 395.  I put my backpack down and stood on the side of the road for half an hour and this car pulled over to give me a ride.

The guy’s name was Jim and he had come from Whiskeytown, California that morning.  After a few minutes of talking, we found out that we were both Christians and had some good fellowship.

We talked about Oswald Chambers, Smith Wigglesworth and about this other guy who had a healing ministry.  As we talked, I thought that Jim looked vaguely familiar.

Jim told me that he was from South Dakota.  I asked him if he knew where Murdo, South Dakota was, as I have hitchhiked through there many times over the years.  He said that he lived near Murdo.

Then Jim told me that he had picked up this hitchhiker several years ago north of North Platte, Nebraska.  The hitchhiker told him that he had been hitchhiking for twelve years.  Jim took the hitchhiker home and let him stay overnight.  The next morning the hitchhiker told him that he didn’t sleep at all that night because the Presence of God had been so strong—and he wasn’t tired at all (I thought, that sounds like something I would have said).

Jim and I drove up the road past Valley Falls and to the Christmas Valley intersection.  We stopped to let his dog walk around a bit.  I then asked what Jim’s last name was.  He told me his last name and I told Jim that his name rung a bell.  When he told me that he went to a Bible college in Colorado for a short while, then I told him that Jim had picked me up before—maybe back in 2009 or 2010.  Later I told him that maybe he picked me up in 2007 or 2008.

I told Jim that when I left his house several years ago, I walked to I-90 and got a ride with this truck driver.  That truck driver had picked me up a few years before.  He drove us to Bridger, Montana where I stayed for one night with his wife and kids.  Small world—especially when you know that the Lord is in control.

Jim and I drove through Burns and then Ontario, Oregon.  We drove to Boise where he dropped me off at a truck stop on Federal Way.  I camped out a mile or so east of the truck stop that night.

So what is the significance of this post?  God’s perfect timing; God’s perfect will:  the Kingdom of Heaven.

It’s a Small World

Iowa Blackie

25 May 2013

Just in the past half hour, I was hitchhiking on U.S. 395 several miles south of John Day, Oregon.  This jeep pulled over to give me a ride.  It was a man and his wife; they lived in Seneca.

I told them that I had been hitchhiking for a number of years and that I was originally from Iowa.

He told me that twenty years ago, he and his wife were living in Britt, Iowa (Britt is close to where I grew up in north central Iowa).  They met this old hobo named Iowa Blackie.  They let him stay at their place one night.  Iowa Blackie was the Hobo King at the Hobo Convention in Britt back in 1993.

When he mentioned Iowa Blackie’s name, I exclaimed, “It’s a small world!”

I told them that I had a pickup for a few months back in 2000.  I was driving through Boone, Iowa on U.S. 30.  I picked up this hitchhiker; his name was Iowa Blackie.  I drove him to Atlantic where he was going to stay with some friends.  I bought a copy of his book of poetry.  I told them that Iowa Blackie passed away a while back [2011].

The man and his wife dropped me off at this public cabin at the top of this mountain just seven miles north of Seneca.  I’ll stay here for the night and continue to head south on U.S. 395 tomorrow.

Iowa Blackie Obituary

Hobo Shoestring–King of the Rails
The Life of a Hobo
Stobe the Hobo

“On The Road Again” by Susanne Van Hulst

Today I did my first hitchhiking in six months.  I was north of Alturas, California on U.S. 395 when this Christian truck driver named Chuck pulled over and gave me a ride to Lakeview, Oregon.  We had a great talk about hitchhiking and the things of God.  Chuck did a lot of hitchhiking years ago after he got out of the Army.  He was originally from upstate New York and now lives in western Washington.

It was great to be off the road for six months.  That is the longest time off the road since 1997-1998 when I was off the road for eleven months—I was working construction back in Ames, Iowa.  For the past several months, I helped my friends work cattle, brand cattle, rake leaves, prune trees and other clean up work on their property and I did a lot of reading on the Internet.  So it was time well spent.

It thunder stormed last evening with some intense rain and hail.  There has been some scattered showers today.  I really like the Warner Mountains and the Surprise Valley in northern California—it is also called the California Outback.

Looks like I will head north and maybe towards Montana.

[The photo above is the road to Santa Fe, New Mexico.]

April 25, 2012

By Ryan Bonham

.

Eat your heart out, Jack Kerouac.

Self-professed hitchhiker Tim Shey, whose traveling path often passes through Lake County, published his second book earlier this year, a work filled with tales reflecting his experiences in hitchhiking across the country over the past 16 years.

Shey, who often works as a laborer for friends living in the Cedarville/Surprise Valley area of northeastern California, said his travels have taken him far and wide through the years.  His first trip to Lakeview occurred in 2004 while hitchhiking from Cedarville, Calif., to Washington state.

His newest book is entitled “The First Time I Rode a Freight Train,” and features stories inspired by his many years traveling a solo journey in and around the United States, in which he proselytized his Christian faith.

Born and raised in Iowa, Shey graduated from the University of Iowa with a degree in English literature in 1995.  He published some of his short stories on the online blog Ditchhitchhike.com, as well as the Ethos (italics), a publication of the University of Iowa’s journalism department.

After finishing college, Shey worked full time in lumber yard until 1996, when he considered, applied for and did not get accepted into law school.  The allure of the open road came about that year, Shey said.

“I’d say I’ve been hitchhiking 80 percent of the last 16 years,” he said.  “I’m a Christian, and I’m hitchhiking by faith.”

Shey said that he’s putting each and every day’s provisions into his faith in God, and writes about his experiences and encounters from this travels.

He published his first collection of reflections from the road, “High Plains Drifter: A Hitchhiking Journey Across America,” in 2008, which traced his travels from earlier journeys of 1986-87 as well as those spanning 1996-99.

“You see a lot of nice country, but mostly it’s the people you meet (that leaves an impression),” Shey said.

Shey acknowledged the social stigma associated with hitchhiking, particularly in the United States, but he said he mostly faced occasional warnings by Johnny Law and recalled mostly positive interactions; sometimes they even helped him get to his next destination, he said.

“If you’re not causing any trouble, they’ll cut you some slack,” he said.

Shey said that the first book was put together within 10 days*, but his newest effort is the culmination of two years of work.

Lake County Examiner [Lakeview, Oregon]

Copyright 2012 Lake County Examiner

[Corrections:  I received a BA from Iowa State University, not the University of Iowa.  It is Digihitch.com, not Ditchhitchhike.com.  Ethos is published by the Journalism Dept at Iowa State University.]

* I wrote 200 pages in longhand in 10 days.

The First Time I Rode a Freight Train & other hitchhiking stories
A Short Hitchhiking Trip
Providence

Oregon Highway

Last Thursday, Susie gave me a ride over Cedar Pass to U.S. 395 north of Alturas, California.  I walked a mile or so and got picked up by a tractor-trailer.

The driver was Ken and he said that he had picked me up before a few years ago.  He drove me to Lakeview, Oregon and dropped me off near the library.

I walked into the library and asked the librarian if there was a barbershop close by.  She said there was a barbershop on main street.  I spent some time on the Internet and then walked to the barbershop.

I was sitting in the barber’s chair getting a haircut when this older man and woman walked into the shop.  Before they walked in, I gave Diane (the lady giving me a haircut) my card.  Diane gave my card to the lady who had just walked into the barbershop.

The lady looked at my card and we started talking about my hitchhiking travels.  Then she said, “I’ve read your book.”

I said, “High Plains Drifter?”

“Yes.  A friend of mine bought your book and then gave it to me.”

This was quite a surprise.

She later told me that I should go to the local newspaper and maybe they would do a story about my travels.

After my haircut, I walked to the offices of the Lake County Examiner.  I talked with Ryan Bonham, who is a reporter for the Examiner.  He told me to come back at 2 PM.

I walked to this motel in Lakeview and got a room.  I made some money working for John and Susie, so I thought I would get a motel room.  I ended up staying in Lakeview for two nights.

I walked back to the Examiner and talked with Ryan Bonham for about an hour.  The last time a reporter interviewed me for a story was in Hamilton, Montana in 2008–the Ravalli Republic Newspaper.  That reporter interviewed me for about a half hour.

After the interview, Ryan told me that the article would come out the following Wednesday or in the next two or three weeks.  We shook hands and I walked back to the library.

On Saturday morning, I left Lakeview and walked north on U.S. 395.  I thought that I would go to Burns and then head north to Washington state or head east towards Boise.

This guy named Chuck picked me up and took me to Bend and then to Redmond, Oregon.  He had pruned some trees for John and Susie a few years ago.  From Redmond I walked a couple of miles and hitchhiked to Prineville.

I got a room at the City Center Motel in Prineville.  I watched Road to Perdition starring Tom Hanks and some other Irish gangsters while I was there.  I have always thought that Prineville was a real nice town.

The next day, I got two rides to John Day.  From John Day, I got a ride to Seneca with this old codger in a beat up pickup.  He was wearing a worn out cowboy hat and had a few bags of groceries in the cab of his pickup.  I asked him how old his pickup was and he said that it was a ’63.  He said it was built before I was born.  I told him that I was born in 1960.

In our conversation, he said that he had spent some time in prison years ago.  When he got out of prison, he did some hitchhiking.  For some reason, he thought that I said that I was born in 1946.  I said, no, I was born in 1960.  He said, you look like you are 46.  I then asked him if he was born in 1946.  He said, no, that he was born in 1929.  Yeah, I probably said, you look older than 46–you look older than your ’63 pickup which makes sense if you were born in 1929.  1960, 1946, 1929:  I guess it’s all the same thing–especially if you were born after 1990.  Sometimes details get confused when a hitchhiker who was born in 1960 talks to an old codger who was born in 1929 who later spent time in prison who thinks that the hitchhiker is 46 when in fact the hitchhiker is 52 . . . . .I think I’ll stop here before I paint myself into a corner.

The old guy then proceeded to tell me how I could steal gas out of other people’s cars with this device that you plug into your dashboard cigarette lighter–which didn’t make a whole lot of sense because I didn’t have a dashboard cigarette lighter and I didn’t have a car and I didn’t need gas.  Some people don’t make a whole lot of sense.  He was an old ex con who probably drank too much beer, stole too much gas and spent too much time in the pen.  He dropped me off in Seneca and I hit the road.

I walked a couple of miles and got a ride to Burns with a guy who was born in Massena, Iowa.  I told him that I was born and raised in Iowa.  He went to school at Iowa State and worked for the U.S. Forest Service.  I told him that my grandmother was born and raised in Massena.

I got dropped off at this truck stop on the west side of Burns (Hines).  I hit the road and got a ride to Riley with a couple of guys going to Bend.

From Riley, I walked a couple of miles south on U.S. 395 and then the sun went down over the western horizon.  I laid out my sleeping bag in the sagebrush near this fence line on the east side of the road and went to sleep.

Sometime after midnight, I woke up and the night sky was overcast.  It started to sprinkle a very light rain.  I packed up my things and walked back to Riley.  I walked to this horse shed next to the gas station and laid out my sleeping bag in the shed and slept there the rest of the night.  It began to rain much harder and I was grateful to be out of the weather for the night.

At sun up, the rain had stopped and I walked to the gas station and got something to eat.  I walked back to the intersection and got two rides to Lakeview on U.S. 395.  From Lakeview, I got two rides to Highway 299.  From Highway 299, I got two rides over Cedar Pass to Cedarville.

A Thumb and a Prayer
Author Pens Tales Reminiscing from the Road
Take Me Home, Country Roads
Author

California Outback

Around the 23rd of August, I hitchhiked out of northeastern California and got a few rides past Redding, CA near Whiskeytown.  I camped out there that night and then hitchhiked to Arcata.  Arcata is probably the enviro-pagan capital of the United States.  I saw more homeless people there in an hour than in any place I have ever been.  I slept in a ditch that night near Trinidad—just north of Arcata.

The next day I hitchhiked through Crescent City to Brookings, Oregon.  While I was going through Crescent City this Christian picked me up.  He said something very interesting.  He said that either a U.S. Senator or a state senator from California said that she would rather see one human being die than have to cut down one tree.  No wonder things are so backward in parts of California.  Reminds me of Romans Chapter One:  when man began to worship the creation rather than the Creator, the Lord gave them over to a reprobate mind.

After sleeping on the beach north of Brookings, I hitchhiked north on U.S. 101 to Bandon.  I slept under a bridge north of Bandon that night.  The next day I hitchhiked to Coos Bay where I stayed at a Christian mission for the night.

It took me a couple of days to hitchhike from Bandon to Florence to Eugene through Madras to Pendleton, Oregon.  In Pendleton, I slept under a bridge north of town and stayed out of the rain.  It hadn’t rained in two months.  I made it to Dayton, Washington where I stayed with some friends for three days.  While I was there, I learned that my book High Plains Drifter was purchased by the local library.  So I went to the library there in Dayton and signed their copy of my book.

After Dayton, I hitchhiked through Moscow, Idaho and later made it to Kooskia that evening.  I stayed with some friends in Kooskia for a couple of days and then headed east into Montana.  I went through Missoula, Belgrade and West Yellowstone and ended up in Victor, Idaho where I stayed with some friends for two nights.

The next day I hitchhiked to Jackson, Wyoming and stayed at Jeremy and Felice’s place for one night.  The next week I hitchhiked to Bozeman, Montana and stayed with some friends for a night; I hitchhiked to Cody and then slept on the bleachers at a baseball field in Meeteetse, Wyoming; I stayed in Riverton at the shelter for three nights; I stayed with a friend in Dubois for one night.  After staying in Victor, Idaho and Jackson, Wyoming for two nights, I headed back north.

In one day, I got from Jackson to Helena, Montana where I slept on that hill just south of the library.  The next day I made it to Missoula and Lolo where these three Christians picked me up and let me camp out with them for a night; we had some really good fellowship.  The next day I made it to Kooskia, Idaho.

After Kooskia, I hitchhiked through Lewiston and then through Walla Walla, Washington and Pendleton, Oregon.  I slept outside a few miles west of Pilot Rock, Oregon.  The next day I got a ride from Pilot Rock through John Day to Burns, Oregon.  I got to Riley and walked south a couple of miles and then got a ride with a couple of Christians to Lakeview where they let me stay at the driver’s sister’s camper.

The next morning, I got a ride to New Pine Creek, California.  I walked a few miles south and got a ride with a guy named Jesse.  We drove to Alturas where he had to run a couple of errands.  He then drove me to Cedarville where John and Susie live and bought a copy of my book, High Plains Drifter.  It is good to be back in this part of California.