Hitchhiking is a fundamental part of thru-hiking. You need those cars to stop for you, a ruthlessly smelly hiker, on the side of the road, starving and waving your thumb around, desperately in need of town. Oh sweet town, filled with calories and showers and places to lay down that aren’t dirt. Laying prone outside of the grocery store included.
Without a hitch, you’re up for some fairly demoralising road walks. On the Pacific Crest Trail, from Kearsarge Pass to Bishop is 55 miles. You need to convince someone to stop for you
Too many hikers, all traumatised by the wind and snow, displaying very bad hitchhiking techniques.
Now, as an Australian, the idea of thru-hiking is relatively terrifying on account of Ivan Milat. He is a notorious serial killer who murdered a bunch of backpackers hitchhiking across Australia. Charming. But also, terrifying. If you’re an Aussie you will need to overcome the social conditioning that tells you to never stick your thumb out for a ride or you’ll be serial murdered.
I made some questionable safety decisions around hitching, including being the twelfth thru-hiker to squeeze into the back of pick-up truck (or the tray of a Ute, as I corrected everyone). But on the whole, I regret nothing. I was safely chaperoned into town by some incredibly generous people who largely just wanted to chat about what we were all doing out there. An easy trade.
I hear that hitchhiking on the Continental Divide Trail is a lot harder than the Pacific Crest Trail or the Appalachian Trail. Mainly because there’s just way less people out there. So, if the CDT is your goal, be ready for some long waits.
This is bad technique. We are doing literally everything wrong. I have no idea how we made it off this road.
Now, some tips. To give yourself the best chance of securing that delicious ride into town, remember the following:
- Be patient. At the end of the day, no one actually owes you a ride. So, try not to meltdown when people drive straight by you making all kinds of weird “oh no I have an empty car but I can’t stop for you” gestures or confusing waves or an encouraging thumbs up. These gestures are very weird and irritating to the calorie-starved hiker brain, but just remain calm.
- Smile and be enthusiastic. No one wants to sit in a car with a sad AND smelly hiker. A few of my fellow hikers were convinced that dancing worked for them. This was not my vibe but I strongly encouraged others to do it for me.
- Be a woman. Cars stop for the women more than they stop for the men. I am very scientifically sure of this. This phenomenon is so pronounced that many solo male hikers try to secure themselves a ‘ride bride’ to make themselves a more appealing hitch prospect. Women are so rarely serial killers.
- Have an Australian, Kiwi, or non-American accent. I was often trotted out by my tramily to go and chat up people in their cars, starting out with a ‘G’Day mate, how’s it going?” (I don’t ever say that at home) but in all honesty, the Americans just sort of love an accent. This is your biggest asset, so lean in.
- If you land at a trail head, ask people in the parking lot. It’s much easier to accost someone in their car when they’re not hurtling by you on a highway. Just, you know, try not to make it weird and graciously take no for an answer.
- Play nice with day-hikers. Sidle up and bring your best chat to the day hikers who are meandering in the direction of the parking lot. There is a very strong possibility there is a car waiting for them there and a spare seat for a friendly, hungry thru-hiker.
- Don’t wear sunglasses. Let them see your trustworthy, not serial killer, smiling face!
- Have your pack on or near you so that all of the lovely potential lifts can see that you look a bit feral because you’re a hiker.
- If you’re obviously filthy, try to cover yourself up a bit. Pull out the puffy and attempt to contain the filth. Also you could switch out your stinky hiking shirt for your sleep shirt, just to reduce the odour a tad. We do what we can.
- Don’t try with too many thru-hikers. The occasional pick-up might be able to cram twelve of you in, but it is rare. It’s better if one or two (women) are out front and you shove all the other hikers in the bushes, to jump out after the ride is secured, like “oh and there’s these guys too, got room?” Again, graciously take no for an answer.
- Make sure you’re going the right way.
- Immediately roll down all the windows. You stink. Give that driver some air.
- Be nice and chat to your driver if they want stories. And also offer cash for petrol. You’re representing the thru-hiking community, so be considerate and generous when you can. Future generations of thru-hikers will thank you.
It might be intimidating in the beginning but hitchhiking as a thru-hiker becomes very quickly normalised. You gotta do what you gotta do for soft beds and milkshakes. Thumbs ready?