one of the kids from the show the night before said he could give us a ride out of pendleton to the tri-city area (Kennewick, Pasco and Richland, WA). we took it but not all the way there b/c it would commit us to going straight through to seattle all the way through washington. personally, i thought going to portland then up the coast was a smarter bet. so we got out at this exit that had a couple 'truck stops' (which is being very very liberal with the definition of 'truck stop')
we kick it back and forth between the gas stations a couple times with zero luck. try the ramp. bubkiss. so back to the gas stations. finally decide to sit down at one and eat some food. more pesto and bread. seriously, this pesto is amazing. for any pesto, let alone for a store bought one. [i'll take a picture of it later.] then we get kicked out of there. so the ramp is our only option. work the top for a while. nothing. then the bottom. nothing.
well, we could walk up to that rest area two miles down the road?
at least we won't get kicked out and it'll be a change of scenery.
i've realized that a lot of decisions are mad while hitch hiking for the sake of 'a change of scenery.'
so we start hoofing it. we only make it about half a mile before this truck stops. but since it takes forever for trucks to stop we didn't know if he was stopping for us. he doesn't get out to fix anything, so we're likes, yep, must be for us. fingers cross. then we jog up there.
us: where are you heading?
him: olympia, wa. you?
us: either portland or seattle. eventually seattle.
him: i can take you all the way into portland. i go right through there.
us: do you have room for two?
him: yep. hop in.
i take the bed first and james is shotgunner / talker. this guy is very much the prototypical trucker. loud. dirty. gross. ...roundish. and loves to hear himself talk. we stop at rest stop. pee. switch seats and get back to it.
now i'm up front. talk talk talk. james and i decide to eat some more bread and pesto and nuts and dried fruit. after we've be driving for a while dude decides he wants to eat, too. so we're rifling through his stuff looking for his food which is a box of goldfish or cheezits or something equally gross and barely qualifying as food. oh, and then there's a can of chili. what're you gonna eat that with guy? i don't really see any cutlery. 'there should be a fork or something in that cabinet.' james only finds a butter knife. 'that'll work.' ugh. this was the most trucker moment i've ever seen. he was eating chili. cold. out of a can. with a butter knife. while smoking. and ashing on the floor. classy.
but you know, a ride's a ride, right? actually, he wasn't too bad once he was done eating. he gave us a lot of stories about his life, his hitch hiking adventures, his family, wife (and multiple ex-wives). basically lots of sage like advice. he told us all about this gorge and plans for a casino. which, btw, the gorge was beautiful. then we roll into pdx. he drops us on some ramp.
we walk around. go to veganoplis. eat some awesomeness. then decide to not hang out in pdx anymore and just get back on the road. try working some ramp a bit. no dice.
fuck it. lets just take greyhound.
so we did. a whole 26 dollars. then i call hannah who is going out but tells us to come over and crash out or whatever we want. near the greyhound station we asked some old guy how to get to the u district. and as he was giving us directions, he just offers to take us there. score.
caught up with hannah a bit. met her roommate. was reminded how most kids are in college by some dumb boys that were over there. read. wrote. slept. a bed and shower was real nice.
Currently playing in iTunes: Slow Song by Sleater-Kinney