Unquestionably, hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere leaves you vulnerable. You must be a good, and quick, judge of character. You have a few tiny moments to size up the driver and determine whether or not to climb into the car. The times that I felt the most hesitant resulted in the friendliest drivers, leaving me feeling somewhat guilty.
One beautiful day, hitching from the Coromandel peninsula towards Auckland, New Zealand, a young man, seemingly friendly, in a clean enough car, offered an hour's ride in the right direction. Without hesitation, my travel companion and I accepted the ride. Casual conversation with the flannel-clad man revealed that he was returning from a hunting trip, and his rifle was in the way back of the station wagon. Also back there? His kill. A dead sheep. Covered in plastic sheeting. I peeked over the seat, and came nose to nose with the dead sheep. It didn't smell. It didn't talk. It was a fine traveling companion for an hour. I might not have even noticed it was there without the tip off.
During deer hunting season in Missouri, it is not uncommon to see a dead deer splayed out in the bed of a pickup truck. It is certainly a time to select your hiking trails carefully. It might be considerate for hunters to find a way to advertise their cargo.
I might have selected a different ride.
The sheep story reminds of the scene in The movie Pricilla Queen of the Desert, where the drag queen hitches a ride in the outback and there is a dead kangaroo in back.
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