Day #2

Day two started with a bang. Got a ride from Kennewick in like half an hour from two Mexican kids who were super awkward. They dropped me off in this place called Umatilla, Oregon. Seriously no one stops there I guess. 

So I went into the diner to get some hash towns and coffee and met "the breakfast club." This group of old timers who are regulars I guess. They even had a photo on the wall. I played some banjo for them. 

Ridewise though the place was like a black hole. I'd spend an hour or two in one spot, then move to another. People barely even waved. And there were maybe 3 cars minute getting on to this on ramp and maybe 1 going the direction I was going. So chances of getting picked up were like, zero. 

So it's legal to hitch on the freeways in Oregon, so I tried that, but almost died of heatstroke. And there were still times where there was NO ONE on the freeway. So I walk back to the on ramp and some sketchy dude, with a grand total of a grocery bag to his name, swooped my spot. So at this point I was starting to get pretty nervous since I'd been there for like 6 hours waiting and now I had this dude making me look sketch. Also I thought he might stab me and steal my shit. 

But then, by the grace of god, the nicest dude actually TURNED AROUND to give me a lift. He was going to Portland and I said, "Dude anywhere to get me out of here." 

He turned out to be a super sweet ride and suggested I check the Portland rideshare on craigslist. A phone call later and now I have a ride to Boise Idaho tomorrow, where my sister lives. 

Now I'm sitting in the bushes at the exit he's gonna pick me up at, on the banks of the Columbia river, drinkin 24oz cans of Pabst. 

So far I'd say the hobo life is a tough one, but damn it feels good to be a gangsta.