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

Dreams from the LORD 2007-2010
17 January 2008

I am now sitting in the jail at the Powder River County Sheriff’s Office in Broadus, Montana. Looks like I will stay here overnight and then head west tomorrow. I hitchhiked from Rapid City, South Dakota to Broadus earlier today. It is snowing pretty good outside, so I have a warm place to sleep tonight. When I got dropped off here in Broadus, I went to the Sheriff’s Office to see if someone could put me up in a motel for the night. The sheriff suggested that I stay in the jail because it was empty and it had just been cleaned. This will be the first time I have ever stayed in a jail.

Tim is the guy who gave me the ride from just west of Rapid City to Broadus. He is originally from Seattle where he used to work as a sheet rocker. He and his wife and three children live here in Broadus so that they can take care of Tim’s grandfather.

Tim told me that he became a Christian a while back after he was in a really bad car crash. His buddy died in the crash and Tim was in a body cast for two months. Crisis sometimes precedes conversion.

We stopped in Belle Fourche, South Dakota where Tim bought me a hamburger at Hardee’s. He told me that his grandfather was 88 years old and was a veteran of the Battle of the Bulge and the Battle of Huertgen Forest in World War II. I told Tim that his grandfather should write his experiences down before he passes away. Tim told me that his grandfather really didn’t want to talk about the war. His grandfather used to crawl up close to the German lines and call in artillery on their positions. I’m sure he saw a lot of horrible carnage during the war.

So tomorrow I will either hitchhike to Miles City and head west on I-94 or else I will hitchhike through the Northern Cheyenne and Crow Indian Reservations and then take I-90 to Hardin and Billings. The snowstorm is supposed to last into tomorrow morning.

A State of Existing, North Dakota

Sand Hills, Nebraska

High Plains Drifter: A Hitchhiking Journey Across America
By Tim Shey

Excerpt from Chapter Five:

Psalm 18: 19: “He brought me forth also into a large place; he delivered me, because he delighted in me.”

In May of 1997, I hitchhiked west towards Nebraska. I have always loved going through Nebraska. In all my travels, I believe that the people of Nebraska and Texas were by far the best people I have ever met. Nebraska was in my comfort zone. Whenever I had been wandering out west and came out of Wyoming and into Nebraska, I felt that I was back on my home turf. The people of Nebraska are gold, silver and precious stones.

I got some good rides all the way to Osmond, Nebraska. It was getting close to sundown when this guy driving a tractor picked me up.

“You can sit on the fender if you want,” he said.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

He drove me to Plainview and we talked about the things of God and the Bible. He asked me what I was doing. I told him that I just quit my job and thought I would hitchhike by faith and see where God would take me. He offered me a job right there. He had his own construction company and lived on a farm with his wife and kids. I told him I would love to work for him, but that God was calling me out west for some reason. We stopped in Plainview and we shook hands. I hopped off the tractor and I got a motel room.

The next morning this tractor-trailer picked me up.

“I’m going all the way to western South Dakota,” he said. “I got five drops: three in Nebraska and two in South Dakota.”

We stopped at three places in Nebraska and I helped unload his van–he was hauling some small trees and shrubs. We got to a truck stop near Kadoka, South Dakota and he told me he would buy me some supper.

We were eating supper when he looked at me and said, “You know, right before I picked you up I saw this man pointing at you. It was like he was telling me to pick you up.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “I didn’t see anybody out there. I was alone.”

“I saw him plain as day. When I picked you up I didn’t see him anymore.”

I was flabbergasted. So I sat there and wondered and looked out the window and asked him, “Do you think he was an angel?”

“He must’ve. It was the strangest thing I ever saw.”

On our trip we talked a lot about the Word of God and certain preachers on TV. He lived in Sioux City and was very well self-educated. I enjoyed talking with him. After supper he said he was going back to the sleeper and get some sleep. I took a long walk—for two or three miles—out in the country. Lots of grassland; it was beautiful.

I walked back to the truck and the trucker was sound asleep. He had a double-decker sleeper, so I got in the top bunk and turned on the VCR. From midnight till four in the morning I watched two films. The first film was The Professional—it was about the life of a mafia hit man and a twelve-year-old girl named Matilda. It was very good. I forget the other film.

The next day we stopped in Rapid City and Spearfish and we unloaded his truck. He bought me breakfast and I hit the road.

A Book Review for High Plains Drifter
Are You An Angel?
A State of Existing, North Dakota
Hitchhiking in Wyoming
It’s a Small World
The life of a hobo
Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch
A Thumb and a Prayer
An American Pilgrim:  Some Reflections on High Plains Drifter