Risks are inherent in hitchhiking. Boredom of two hours’ standing at the side of the road in the middle of the night is not fun, but preferable to getting a ride from a homicidal freak adding to a body count. Dangers of hitchhiking were vague & stereotypical parts of movies VIII/XIV

about “rebellious youth.” I don’t remember hearing the term “serial killer” and no mention was made of killers who sought prey on or around specific highways. That whole time, as disclosed after his arrest years later, did people find out a serial killer worked IX/XIV

at a liquor store a few blocks north of campus. I saw a show about Great White Sharks who feed off the beaches in South Africa. In an aerial photo, a couple of hundred swimmers were unaware of several large sharks swimming yards away. By taking off on the interstate, X/XIV

I was headed for the beach. Metaphor or not, I can’t swim. Mid-morning on a beautiful day in June, I was standing at the side of the road, facing eastbound traffic, arm extended and thumb up. The cheap backpack at my feet held the possessions I was taking with me. XI/XIV

I figured short rides to Indy, then south. One of my debate partners, Katy, had graduated mid-year and was at UVA getting her masters. I had about 600 miles to go. We’d take a bus to Fairfax, Virginia, where one of her sorority sisters was at her parents’ home for the summer. XII/XIV

My plans for the 4th started with a march from the Jefferson Memorial to the Mall at the Capitol where the Peoples Bicentennial Commission had a day full of speeches by noted people on the left. For about a year, I’d worn that “Don’t Tread on Me” PBC button. XIII/XIV

All I had to do now was get to D.C. And then I got lucky. I’d been there only a few minutes when a guy in a Dodge Dart pulled over. I grabbed my pack and jogged up to where he’d stopped and got in. XIV/XIV