A few days after the concert we were broke again. Jimmy and I
decided to split rather than go back to work at Manpower. He
borrowed twenty dollars from Vicky and we started hitchhiking home via the scenic route, eventually it would take us through the
Catskill Mountains. Just outside N.Y.C., before we had gone sixty
miles, we were hassled by the pigs, on three different occasions.
The last pig told us that if we were caught hitching one more time
we would go to jail. We turned around and took the scenic Parkway back into the city. On the way back, the pigs left us alone. Mike and Sandy were putting away groceries when we arrived. It was understandable; in fact, I felt really shitty about moving back in on them, but what the hell, that way everybody could celebrate our departure together.
The next day we were back on the highway, taking the less scenic,
but friendlier route home, through New Jersey and Pennsylvania.
Right at dark, after a couple hours of standing on the highway, it
started to snow. Just as the wind picked up and the snow started
blowing, a van stopped. The kid driving the van was on his way back to school and he gave us his stale sandwich and a pop to share. That treat was appreciated. Soon, we were driving through blizzard conditions and when we arrived at Penn State, Jimmy and I went looking for shelter in a dormitory. We were lucky to find a couple of isolated couches in a dormitory lobby. The next morning we unenthusiastically got back on the highway. It was nose-biting cold outside and five inches of new snow had fallen. Getting rides
sucked; we wasted a whole morning just getting back to the turnpike.
When we reached Ohio, unfriendly pigs greeted us. Tired, hungry, and now on the brink of going to jail, we were blessed with a long ride to Detroit. At night, in frostbite weather, we took shelter in an
apartment building’s hallway. We propped ourselves up against a wall pretending to be waiting for one of the residents. The night was uncomfortable and long, but warm. Back on the highway, early the next morning, we arrived in Houghton Lake by mid afternoon. If you count the day hitching in New York, it took Jimmy and I four days to hitchhike from N.Y.C. to Saginaw, just like in Paul Simon’s great song America…”Kathy,’ I said, as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh, `Michigan seems like a dream to me now. It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw. All come to look for America…”