Mission statement

I turned 60 this year. For a lot of people, that’s the time to go climb Mt. Kilamanjaro, learn to surf, have dinner in Paris, cut back on the salt, retire, buy an impractical vehicle, eat/pray/love, whatever. Me? I’m going to hitchhike to Seattle. 

It’s an adventure, like all those others. It’s also cheap. Like me. 

And it’s  time. I used to hitchhike a lot. Long distances and short. Cross country, or to school. But’s been almost 30 years since the last time I stuck my thumb out on the shoulder of a highway. I want to find out what’s changed since then, if anything, in me, and in all the drivers, dreamers, workers, joyriders, liars, blowhards, generous souls and escape artists with whom I share the road. 

From Minneapolis, where I live, to Seattle is about 1,700 miles. I’ve taken a week off to do it. I’m figuring five days ought to get me there. (I don’t know why I’m figuring that, really, and it’s not as though there are a lot of people these days to ask.) With luck I'll also manage a side trip north from I-90 in Washington to the Cascade Mountain town of Twisp, to see an old friend of mine who's embarked on his own kind of elderventure, having just bought a daily newspaper. (And you think my plan is nutty?) 

 I’m sure to be an oddity out there -- not just a hitchhiker, but one that looks, well, kind of old, you know? Old enough to have his own wheels, for example. And a little craggy. Therefore: suspicious. On the roads character judgments are made at 70 mph: Is s/he trustworthy?  I’ve read you have more luck if you’re with either a woman or a dog. But I haven't taken up with either lately, so I’m going solo. And that gets back to timing. Unlike a lot of other 60-year-olds (maybe most), I don’t have anyone to tell me I can’t. Soon enough my kids will probably be setting limits for me, noting that wandering is one of the symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. Maybe this plan is also a sign of dementia, but right now it feels like a plain old urge to head west in the summer, do it before it would be TOTALLY crazy. 

So Saturday morning (Aug. 20), I plan to catch a commuter train and ride to the edge of the Twin Cities, get off, start walking toward I-94, and get thumbing.