I was returning to Vershire at the end of spring break, a trip in which I hitchhiked from Chicago to Vermont. A ride had dropped me off at White River Junction, Vermont after dark, with about thirty miles to go until I was home. I disliked hitchhiking at night because it was really hard to get rides but my other alternatives—walking and finding a place to crash—were things I wished to avoid.
I quickly got a ride the short distance I had left on the interstate, and started waling westward on Vermont Route 113, a local highway. Traffic was very light. Soon I left the lights of the highway and found myself walking in a very dark, cloudy Vermont night.
Finally a vehicle approached—a pickup truck. I ran up to the cab and opened the door, and immediately noticed that there were two people in the cab, along with a case of Genesee beer. “Where ya goin'?” The driver asked.
“Vershire.” I said.
“Sure, I can take you to Vershire, no problem. Hop in back.” So I quickly threw my backpack myself in the bed of pickup. I wasn't the only thing in the bed of the pickup—there were two or three of what appeared to be stripped engine blocks in there.
The driver took off aggressively. I had to dodge the engine blocks as they slid to the back of the bed along with me. I began to get annoyed with the driver--couldn't he see that I wasn't sitting down? But just as I got settled, the driver slammed on the brakes. My backpack, myself and the engine blocks all slid forward.
I worked to avoid the objects sliding around as the driver started and stopped several more times. Finally, I got a good grip on the cab, and was able to keep from sliding around. I watched as the truck sped along the highway. At one point, it swerved and took out a mailbox.
After a few minutes of this, the driver pulled off to do some hill climbing. He immediately tackled a hill but didn't have enough momentum to make it over so he had to back down. I grabbed my backpack and jumped out when the truck stopped for a moment between reverse and forward.
My exit was noticed by the driver. Quickly turning the truck around, he proceeded to start chasing me down. I found myself in a small dirt field welding a 50 pound backpack struggling to avoid a charging pickup truck like some kind of matador. I was able to easily avoid the truck because it was constantly turning and I could easily cut the angle. Finally, when I had enough time I ducked into a nearby grove of trees.
The truck left a few minutes later. I waited for about fifteen minutes myself and then resumed walking down the highway. I hiked for about an hour before I saw the truck again. It was stuck on the side of a hill. The driver noticed me walking and invited me up so he could 'Take me to Vershire.'
An hour after that, I was picked up by a van that was returning from the White River Junction bus station with several students. I did not tell them about my last ride. I was dropped off at the trail head to my cabin a few minutes later, and made my way down the dark trail to my bed.
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