Rolling down Highway 41, April 1975: Adel, GA

Rolling down Highway 41, April 1975: Adel, GA
The weather was beginning to put on its warm attire. As soon as the sun began to climb, it felt like clothing should come off or at least get lighter. I was headed north with a companion, Esperanza. She was from California and had spent previous summers in the Philadelphia area in school. My previous spring and summers were used up in Ontario. Even by mid morning our enthusiasm to stand and energetically thumb a ride was sapped. The lack of traffic headed up our ramp to Interstate 75 further diminished our spirit to move on. We ended up reclining on our packs beside the road pondering our dilemma. A guy manning a broom swept by and offered, “You two don’t look like you want to go anywhere. Looking like that, I don’t think you’ll get a ride.” That seemed to make sense. So we picked up our gear and headed down the ramp and into town.
It was a slow journey, made longer by the friendly folks who engaged us in conversation. There were offers to stay around, find jobs, and buy a vehicle. A used car dealer even offered us on the spot financing, on the condition we accepted jobs in his uncle’s warehouse. We could not consider his offer since we were determined to somehow make it north toward more hospitable climate. By mid afternoon we were at the one stoplight intersection that marked the center of town. We figured that were probably not going to get any substantial rides that day and finding a place to set up a camp probably was a fair hike from the middle of this small town. Federal highway 41 was the north-south component of our crossroads. To facilitate getting out of town, we decided to separate and head in opposite directions. Esperanza would head north, I south. Whenever one of us got the ride, we would rejoin and head in that direction. A fast moving car, passed me, honked, and screeched to a halt about a block south. We gathered our belongings and hurried to our ride.
As we approached, I noticed a hand lettered message painted across the trunk. It offered the single word, “Boogie.” We anticipated some real Southern Hospitality. Once we got aboard, Gail, sizing up our situation, offered us a meal and quarters in her air conditioned trailer. After a chicken fried steak meal and some relaxing company, Gail offered the both of us a place in her king size bed. It seemed tempting, except during the evening she disclosed that her boyfriend, currently in jail, had a habit of escaping, tracking her down, and going on a violent rampage. I choose a single bed in the extra bedroom. If her boyfriend did show up, I hoped that finding two women in the big bed may temper his passion for destruction. It turned a peaceful night. In the morning, Gail helped us ship some of our stuff ahead via US mail and dropped us off on the same Interstate ramp that derailed us the day before. Thus lightened we proceeded to quickly catch a ride all the way to South Bend, Indiana.