So I packed my bags and drove to Ontario. After a couple of days in Toronto, I drove the additional 240 miles North to the Big Nickel. in Sudbury.
I checked in at the Chelmsford Motel, just outside Sudbury. This is strictly a nickel mining town. The surrounding area is like a desolate moonscape. In fact the area has been used for filming moon themed movies.
I attended at the personel office for the mines, but my plans where quickly crushed. Apparently I did not meet the minimum weight requirement to qualify. This surprised me, coming in at 170lbs for 6ft of muscle.
But I was 10 lbs short
Back at the motel, I was telling the owner about this, and he indicated he was trying to find a night receptionist, would I be interested. As the deal also included accommodation (albeit very modest, with a boiler for a room mate) I agreed to take on the position, but only temporarily.
A few weeks later a job was posted in a warehouse at the Texaco plant in town, with much better pay, so I took that and moved to a small hotel in Sudbury. With a propensity to work two jobs, I also landed the night receptionist job there also.
Occasionally I would drive down to Toronto on a weekend. I started to find some gay clubs and had a great time dancing etc.
One evening I was driving on the highway and passed through a grouping of houses, where there was no lighting. A large truck was parked in the road with no lights on. I slammed on my brakes as soon as I saw it, but was probably still doing about 30m.p.h. when the rear of the truck wrapped around my windshield.
I was carried into a house, as it was bitterly cold out, to await the ambulance. When the medics arrived they started to clean my bloodied head, when a women onlooker screamed as she saw what appeared to be my bloody scalp come away in the medics hand.
My beautiful car was a write off, but I fortunately was able to rely on Christian Science to help me through the experience. Looking back I may have made a mistake in not enlisting a lawyer to pursue the claim against the truck driver's insurance, but retrospect is a wonderful thing. I barely covered replacement costs and expenses.
Gary and I had talked about hooking up and driving down to Florida, at the end of the the year, but now I had to reassess our plans.
Next time down to Toronto I went into the office of "Drive Away" They used to connect drivers with snowbirds to drive their cars down and avoid them having to rent. (A snowbird is a N.American resident, that migrates South for extended periods every Winter) The drivers get paid gas costs plus a small allowance. But the zinger is in the time allowance. You are allocated either three of four days, depending on location. If you keep on trucking you can make it to the Florida border in 24 hrs, so you have a free car rental for two or more days.
I was connected with a couple seeking delivery of an almost new Monaco Station Wagon. You could fit a double bed in the back, it was so huge. On the appointed day, Gary came to Toronto and we hit the highway.
24 Hrs later I woke Gary up from his nap in the back to tell him we where in Florida. We had to drop the car off in Tampa, but spent a couple of days touring around first, sleeping in the wagon nights.
We spent New Year's eve 70/71 laying on Daytona beach, watching the stars.
I had decided I was going to hitch out to California, then up to Vancouver and back to Toronto. I dropped Gary off at the airport, to fly back to Nova Scotia and took my position on the side of the highway for the 7,000 mile hike with $36.00 in my pocket.
You could do this trip a lot easier, with a few more zeros in the budget and have a great time. But you would not experience the REAL country and the REAL people, with the same intensity. As a tourist, typically you see what they want you to see, to ease a little more cash out of your wallet. When you get down and dirty REALITY appears in the lens.
It was not my intention to work with such a limited budget, but as is often the case we under estimated our expenses, for the trip down and I had no intention of abandoning my trip at this point.
I met an amazing mix of people, from all walks of life. They all have a story and like to share it with someone.
If someone is driving on their own, for 5 or 10 Hrs, the miles past faster with someone to talk with. Occasionally they may appreciate a break from the driving while still making time.
Where you stand to start hitching is critical and where you are going to be let off likewise. You need to determine this before accepting a ride, or you could be on a high speed section of highway, where nobody is going to stop.
One of my first stay overs, was New Orleans. An interesting city very prone to water and hurricane damage. Unique architecture.
The vehicles you get to ride in are as mixed as the people. From long haul Semi Tractor Trailers to pick ups, or luxury sports cars. The young driver of one such car, after a long ride, invited me to share a motel room. As we seemed to get along quite well I agreed. But things went downhill fast when I had no interest in sharing his weed and other extra curricular activities. I felt he should have clarified his expectations.
This old guy picked me up, with an equally old car and equally big old dog. Turns out he lives in the car with his soul mate and moves around the cities, as and when he can manage it. I had a long ride with him, before he ran out of gas and cash, just before reaching the top of the ridge, overlooking the city.
The $2 chipped in, just gave him enough gas to make it over the ridge and coast the three miles down into El Paso where support systems were in place, to enable him to make his next jaunt.
Quite often on a long drive, people would stop for a meal break. When I would order a muffin or other modest nutriment, they frequently insisted on ordering a square meal for me. There is so much kindness out there.
This is a little South of San Fransisco. I couldn't find pictures on the internet showing the area where I spent the next two days, having run out of cash, but here is the other extreme.
Maybe a couple of days without eating can cloud your judgement, but that does not make me any prouder of the remedy I chose.
Having been a donor in both the U.K. and Canada on several occasions, I convinced myself to respond to the poster offering $20.00 cash for a pint of blood.
My next stop was to the food market to buy a loaf of bread and jar of sandwich spread.
A few days later I crossed the border into Canada with $1.00 in my pocket.
Vancouver very rarely has snow. But on this night, an inch of white precipitation descended. I found myself a cardboard box (such as a fridge would arrive in) and settled down for my first night back in Canada.
Unlike the U.S.A. where I had no green card (work permit) here in Canada I could hussle up some cash. A couple of days in the bay of the car wash and I was ready to hit the road to Toronto.