Redding >> San Francisco

Free food!

I came to Redding for the bridge, but I'd just about stay for the blackberries. My CS host lent me his bike for a morning ride, so I spent a few hours seeing the river trail, doing some geocaching, and stopping every few minutes to grab a handful of delicious fruit. Redding is actually a rather incredible place. It has stunning scenery, cool bridges, lots of trails, and easy access to Lake Shasta and other national parkland. It's also full of young families: nearly half of the people I passed had at least one child under the age of 8 with them.

I stayed in town longer than planned, but at about 3:00pm I finally decided I should get going. I made my sign and started walking to the freeway, and got my first ride before I even left the parking lot. A New Zealander, in Redding while he studies at a seminary, saved me nearly an hour's worth of walking by taking me to my desired on ramp. I paused to fill up on icewater and burritos then moved out to the onramp. Plenty of space, great flow, near a gas station, and nothing worth stopping at between here and Sacramento. I felt pretty good about it.

In the car with Noah

I'd spent less than an hour (30 minutes, maybe?) when little yellow jeep-thing pulled off. Rickety as anything, and packed to the brim with camping gear, it's definitely the most interesting vehicle I've ridden in. It was a bit of trick to get myself and my bag in, but I was glad I did. The old man driving the car, Noah, was a really interesting guy to talk to. He had an incredibly well behaved dog, Mutt-Lee, who rode behind us on the trip. Noah had been up in the north west for the past few months, looking into some mines. Now he was headed back to his wife in Texas, but wanted to stop in on an Korean war buddy first and see if he was still alive, or lay some flowers on his grave if he wasn't. I wish the windows could have been rolled up to make talking easier, but the old car didn't have AC. Come to think of it, it may not have even had working windows. I think the crank for my window was sitting on the dash.

About a hundred miles after we started, he dropped me off at a rest stop before he took off on backroads to his destination. It was a pretty slow rest stop, but even so it only took a half hour of talking to everyone who came into the lot before I was able to find a ride to Vacaville. A young guy this time, I think he was about 23. He was a carpenter, and a graffiti artist who uses the tag 'Logic.' He pointed out a train in the distance, saying that he'd tagged a car on it. He does legitimate murals as well, but tagging is the main hobby. He explained his philosophies on it, talked about the hundred-plus other Graf artists he's met and some of the things that drove them, and how starting at 13 let to him becoming an accomplished shop-lifter to keep up his supplies of paint. He said that he only stole from big corporate stores, as he felt that they deserved it, and could absorb the cost. As we were talking, I mentioned that a fairly large chunk of the cost of items goes to pay for stolen goods. Looking online, a consumer might be paying at extra +300 a year because of the theft of others. He had no idea. It was interesting, because even though he's stopped shoplifting (getting sent to jail for nicking a stick of deodorant isn't exactly worth it), realizing how much people have to pay to make up those costs was a paradigm shift for him.

We got to Vacaville, and he took me to the best spot around. Lots of space, and pretty good flow. Slow going, though. I got bored after a half hour or so and started counting cars, telling myself that if I got to 500, I'd go buy some dinner. I don't think I even hit a hundred before a woman ridesharing down from Portland with a 19 year old freight hopper pulled over and offered me a ride to BART. Thanks to her, I met my goal: back in bus range before it was dark.

Now, some trip stats:

Saturday, July 23 2011
Distance hitched: 203 miles
Time: 5 hours
# of rides: 4
Total Cost: $1.05