Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Busted In Trempealeau - Part III (The Long Hard Journey Home)



The Long Hard Journey Home

So after getting arrested and then our failed attempt at going to court a couple of months later on a Friday morning, Mark and I drive the 18 country miles from the courthouse back to the town of Osseo at I-94.  It is now early afternoon and Mark has to bring the car back to Mindy in Minneapolis.  I decided I would see if I could hitchhike east to Waukesha and see my girlfriend Lona there for the weekend, and then take a Greyhound back to Minneapolis on Sunday night.  I told Mark to sit at the gas station where he could see me standing on the east-bound ramp.  Give me a half hour and if I didn't get picked up I would just ride back to Minneapolis with him.

Well he drops me off at the ramp and is prepared to turn around and go wait at the gas station, but the 18-wheeler literally right behind us sees me get out and he stops to pick me up.  Cool!  So I wave Mark off and he heads west and I head east with the trucker.  I am stoked.  It was a nice sunny spring day, but the temperature was probably only in the 50's...I just had a jean jacket on and was hoping I would not have to wait too long for a ride.  So I get a quick ride and I am off to see my girlfriend for the weekend!

We head down the freeway and I quickly find out this guy is the epitome of cool.  He had been bored and welcomed the company, and he had millions of stories to share.  Stories about life on the road, seeing UFO's late at night, all kinds of characters he had met around the country, and the various situations as well as chicks he had gotten into over the years.  Plus he had one of those new-fangled 'radar-detectors' on board so he could drive "As fast as my rig will go!"  So we were trading stories, laughing, cranking tunes, and making good time…I'll be in my girlfriend's arms soon but in the meantime I’m having a blast!

Eventually we get close to Madison, WI and he tells me that although I want to continue straight down I-94 east an hour past Madison to Waukesha, he has to turn off in Madison onto I-90 southeast as he his heading to Chicago.  I hadn't much noticed what was going on outside as I was having such a good time inside the truck, but as I looked out I realized the skies had darkened considerably and there were actually a few snowflakes coming down.  The closer and closer we got to Madison, the darker and thicker were the skies and snow.  My nice spring day in Minneapolis had turned back into harsh winter down here in Madison. 

He tells me there is a truck-stop a few miles before Madison where he could stop and arrange a ride for me if I wanted, but I knew he had not planned on stopping and was just going to do it for me to be nice.  I did not want to trouble him, and encouraged by my earlier success with him picking me up right away I said no, just drop me off at the I-94/I-90 split and I will thumb a ride from there.  He looks reluctant, but he says okay and pulls over on the side of the freeway.  I jump down to the snow-covered shoulder, forced a huge smile and waved him off. 

Holy sh*t it was cold out.  All I had on were jeans, a t-shirt, my jean jacket and tennis shoes.  I was so looking forward to seeing my girlfriend, but I was now a bit worried as I watched the friendly 18-wheeler slowly chug off into the evening's growing dusk and the gloom of what was turning into a blizzard.  I did not have a watch but the minutes felt like hours as I stood on the side of the freeway with my thumb stuck out in the dark howling winds, snow swirling all around and falling hard.  I had mistakenly thought the entrance from I-90 to I-94 would be like a ramp, but it actually was just a gradual turning continuation of the freeway and people were flying by me at 70 mph.  As an occasional hitchhiker I had it stuck in my head that if I was on a 'ramp' hitchhiking was legal or at the very least the cops wouldn't hassle you, but on the freeway it was not legal and they would nab you.  But now I was not even on a ramp...should I just start walking down the freeway?  I knew the next exit with a gas station was another 20 miles away. 

I figured anything was better than standing there slowly freezing to death while cars and trucks were whizzing by me and occasionally honking at me.  So I started walking and thumbing...still nothing.  I was wearing dark clothing and nobody could see me until they got right up on me, and nobody wanted to stop in the darkness of the nasty spring blizzard.  After awhile my hand and thumb were frozen solid and I was getting desperate.  No civilization of any kind ahead of me, but on the north side of the freeway off in the distance I saw a light.  I thought maybe I could head for it and see if I could find a phone and call Lona to come get me, as I was only about an hour from Waukesha.

The light looked to be at least a half-mile away.  I carefully crossed all 4 lanes of the freeway, but when I got to the other side I reached a cornfield full of snow.  My heart sank when I saw the snow was about knee deep.  Another decision...do I tromp across this huge snow-covered cornfield in my tennis shoes on the chance that there was someone at this light off in distance?  I looked back at the trucks whizzing by on the freeway kicking up snow in my face and decided to chance it with the light.

It was not easy going...large step with the right, foot sink down, left foot up and out of what was it's latest hole, repeat, repeat, repeat...my sneakers, socks and pant legs were now full of snow and my toes were completely numb.  The field seemed endless as I keep trudging along with my head bowed down into the wind.  Every once in awhile I would take a quick glance up at my target but the light did not seem like it was getting any closer.  There had better be someone there I kept worrying, as the thought of coming all the way back across that field to the damn freeway was completely demoralizing and seemed out of the question.  Eventually the light got bigger and the building it was coming from slowly began to come into focus. 

It was a business of some sort, but it looked closed.  When I got within a 100 feet I realized it was a garden center...not a huge chain place, but a small-town garden center that was definitely closed as the sign in the parking lot was turned off.  There were no other buildings around, just a dark country road leading to this building.  Maybe I could find a way in to the building and get warm and find a phone?  Could I really do something like that?  Fortunately I did not have to make that decision.  The light was on the backside of the building facing the corn field and as I got right up to it I heard voices.  Yes!  There were people inside!

I ran the last few feet up the short hill to the building, looked through the window on the door, and there was 3 or 4 people sitting around a table in the back break-room having a few beers after closing time on a Friday night.  I pounded on the door and one of the guys yelled:  "We're closed!"  I pressed my face up to the window and gave the most pitiful look I could muster up, which was not hard.  A lady got up and came over and unlocked the door. 

I craved the warmth and practically fell into the room as the door opened.  They regarded me cautiously as one of them inquired what the hell I was doing there.  While trying to warm up my frozen ears with my frozen hands, I started to tell them the abbreviated version of my story...that I was stuck on the freeway hitchhiking from Minneapolis and could not catch a ride.  I was so close to Waukesha, and yet so far.  One of them got me a blanket, and then a beer, and then a phone.  I called Lona, the lady gave her directions, and then the garden center people and I chatted for an hour and a half while I slowly warmed up with the heat and the beers.  When Lona got there I thanked them profusely for saving me, and then we finally made it back to her house to end what was a very long day.

Part IV - 'The Aftermath' is next...

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