I’d been on the road three days, thumbing my way from Eugene, Oregon. My ride, a couple in an RV camper bus let me out as they turned off the Interstate, heading North on US 191 in Arizona. It wasn't the end of the earth but you could see it from there.
I hadn't eaten since I came across wild blackberries next to a cool creek running near the highway somewhere in Northern California. I'd stuffed myself but that was two days past. I was as hungry as ever, standing there in the Arizona desert.
There wasn't a building in sight and traffic lent new meaning to the word minimal. So, as was my habit and desire, I walked.
In the years between 1971 and 1976 I put more than fifty thousand miles on my thumb and the day of the week was far from my mind. That said… it felt like Sunday afternoon.
My destination was Melbourne, Florida, more than two thousand miles and at least three more days even if I flew like the wind. And honestly, I really couldn't have cared less about that either.
Seriously humid Melbourne, with its "fishing village" ambience, was home base, more or less. It had been my starting point and I had turned around at Eugene.
The desert Southwest is a strange place with even stranger weather. On visits to the high mountain deserts in Colorado I've seen rain appearing to fall up, likely due to wind, unfelt from my vantage point. This day in Arizona was no less strange. As I walked along this lonely stretch of asphalt I mused under a cloudless azure sky. The sun was burning at my back, bringing drops of sweat to the skin. On the shaded side, cold constantly pressed me. It was winter in America but at the edge of nowhere it was all seasons at once. To add mystery, rain fell in large drops widely spaced; hitting like pebbles against my face. But truth be told, I was happy and felt the freedom of no hurry, no worry, no tightness in my gut from unfulfilled obligations. Like the Roger Miller song "King of the Road."
I was hungry though.
I walked about 5 miles, a few cars whizzed by on their way to a future ahead of mine. Then, without thinking, I stopped to feel the distance I could only guess at looking across the desert at the mountains toward the North. As I stood in
contemplation of the moment my attention was slowly drawn down to a shiny black object, incongruous in the red dirt and scrabble. Analytical thought snapped my focus to a sharpened point. Incredible! I was looking at an a-frame styled lady's black patent leather handbag, about the size of a large lunch box. It sported a short strap. I walked the five steps to it, lifted and opened it as I realized it carried no dust on its sides. There was no sign of wear or damage and I thought, "It's brand new and probably empty." That thought was followed with the view of a bag full of lady's personal items and accouterment.
I rifled it and discovered what I sought most: Chewing gum, a large package with nearly ten sticks of Wrigley’s spearmint. Yea! Food!
There was a wallet with eleven dollars and some silver and identification. The cards and notes indicated the bag's owner to be an artist in good standing with art guilds and women's social clubs.
I was glad for the gum but I felt her loss as if it was my own. I had no idea how I would return it to her. I've lost wallets. It was always traumatic but even after long waits I've retrieved them, often through the kindness of others.
I walked a bit further and soon had a ride with an old man in a pickup truck. He said he'd drop me at a truck stop where he was to turn off into the desert to his home.
At the truck stop I gobbled up eleven dollars worth of Mexican style food (umm good) and handed the bag to the cashier. She said she would pass it to the sheriff and he would see she got it back. I walked out the door, stuck my thumb out and my next ride took me all the way to Melbourne. That part of the journey is a stranger story still.
Post Script
What might you take from this as valuable to yourself? I suggest considering that faith in the belief that you are cared for and watched over by what you consider a Higher Power will put you in the right place at the right time. Every moment of every day of your life choices are made. Choices made in alignment with the greatest good for all that is will ultimate lead to your satisfaction.
