Pedro and Goldfish here, munching on Mexican animal crackers in Puerto Vallarta. The delay in writing has not been entirely our fault; the Waffle Horse of Fate has been somewhat stingy with Internet Access, so we've resorted to writing on dead trees (or hemp paper if someone would be kind enough to send us a stash), and will continue to do so for the time being unless we find that the Tarahumara indians in Creel are wired. Well, enough of our bark and on with the pulp.

As we left Athens, with so many miles behind us, hitch-hiking became something less of an experimental science and something more of an art. We practiced, like taoist monks, walking slow to go far; taking the time to talk to people like Rainbow, who spoke of coming storms with a strange mixture of Christianity and Eastern Mysticism; playing games of "go" in our heads and on an imaginary board as we hitch-hiked into dusk.

25) (11/13/96) Athens to 316

Man in a white Dodge. We honestly do not remember a thing this guy said.

26) 316 to Atlanta

Ken and Courtney. He looked like a hockey player, and she would have been beautiful had she not been wearing so much makeup. Thanks for the cheesy chips.

27) Atlanta to the wrong highway

Angie stopped practically before we had our sign up. Due to her navigational abilities, or lack thereof, we think she was related to the aforementioned Ray. But had it not been for her misdirection, we would not have met Rainbow, the Highway Prophetess.

28) Back to the correct highway

Rainbow caught a ride in a truck and we hopped in the back, riding until the next exit, which was really a freeway entrance. There we decided to start walking down the freeway, and the two of us listened as Rainbow preached bar advice.

29) Short ride to the next truck stop

a repairman pulled over on the freeway, unsolicited, and we hopped in the back of his tool shed/van. Sitting on wire snips, hammers, and other small hand-tools amidst bent-up air filters, rolls of wire and rattling bolts, we listened to the muted sounds of conversation as Rainbow talked to the driver and we breathed fumes in the back, praying we didn't get asphyxiated.

30) Truck stop to Shorter, Alabama

As we sat in one of the most difficult situations a hitch-hiker may ever find him/herself in the dark, we attempted our first mental game of Go and something very odd happened. The looming monolith that at first looked as if it were going to run us down actually turned out to be a Sampson's Tours bus bound for the dog-track in Shorter, Alabama. We watched Clear and Present Danger as we munched on chips and soda, courtesy of an undeniably southern woman reminiscent of Mama Flo. It is only fitting that we ended such a strange day and our first in Alabama by sleeping in a cotton field by the freeway.

31) Shorter to Montgomery, Al

Packing up our tent and climbing back onto the freeway, Goldfish remarked that we should try to make it to New Orleans in one day. Pedro simply laughed. A kind nurse on her way to work picked us up in her white Saturn and took us well out of her way to an exit just southwest of Montgomery.

32) Montgomery to the quietest intersection in Alabama

We attempted to communicate with the next southern gentleman that picked us up, but his drawl was thicker that grits'n' gravy, so we played our first complete game of 4x4 mental Go. We were dropped off abruptly at an intersection without much warning. We looked around and realized there were no cars in sight.

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interlude: We sat and contemplated the hazy Alabamian wasteland until our stomachs started growling ..........Pedro walks to the store, leaving Goldfish at the entrance ramp reading Jitterbug Perfume.........Few cars pass......Pedro returns with bread and water. We make soup and contemplate our imitation wonderbread.......sculpts like clay, dissolves like cornstarch........fewer cars pass......at dusk we start walking.

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33) Hwy 65 to Slidell, Louisiana

We no sooner started walking than a long semi pulled over and picked us up. The driver of this particular beast was none other than Otis, the second incarnation of the Serendipitous Spirit of Good Fortune. He couldn't stop talking long enough to wet his lips and like Oren, had enough stories to fill a book (or at least a web page, which we will try to do in the near future). Riding shotgun was the ever-grinning Darnell (just imagine Buckwheat in his late twenties with a gold tooth).

34) Slidell to Tulane University, New Orleans

On the entrance ramp we ran into a strange kid named Jeremiah who was carrying a handful of road flares. Lit by the sinister red glow of a flare and standing in its sulfurous fumes, we held our sign for New Orleans until a small pickup stopped for the three of us. Jeremiah rode in the cab, Goldfish rode in the bed, and Pedro did a one-handed tailgate grab as the truck took off without him in it, and pulled himself in against multiple G's. We inhaled and watched the stars as we rode across the five-mile twin span into New Orleans. Goldfish's muse came true, even with the Alabamian wasteland interlude, and Pedro had to swallow his earlier laugh.

35) (11/18/96) Tulane to Austin, TX

Sitting in Cafe du Monde in downtown New Orleans at 2 in the morning we ran into two young travelers going to Austin, TX, our next planned destination, oddly enough. Due to the immediacy of the situation we had to say our good-byes to Dan and Ty at the cafe and hastily gathered our belonging. We rode through the night and into the foggy Texas morning to arrive in Austin sometime in the afternoon. It was a long, strange, and sleepless ride. Looking back in retrospect we can only say "we've seen magic tricks before."

36) (11/23/96) Austin to Lockhart State Park

After walking too many miles, we caught a ride from a middle aged woman named Juanita, although she was not Mexican. Goldfish passed out and lay unconscious in the back seat as Pedro and Juanita discussed Texan weather patterns.

37) (11/25/96) Lockhart to Ken's Truck Stop, Gonzales, TX

A Gonzales native picked us up in his semi, offered us pork rinds, canned goods and greenback and told us a story about his brother tripping for days after eating a quart jar full of "magic mushrooms."

38) Ken's to Nowhere, TX

A domino playing, Gonzales historian provided our next short but jovial ride.

39) Further into Nowhere, TX to some small town

The moon was rising, and Goldfish was out among the cacti; toilet paper in hand, while Pedro stood munching a cliff-bar by the side of the road watching the moon. At this inopportune moment our next ride showed up, calling Goldfish out from among the cacti and snapping Pedro out of his reverie. He was an international hitchhiker turned preacher/real-estate agent. We hoped that his career-change was not portentous of our own.

40) A small town with curious police to Corpus Christi, TX.

Daniel Mata picked us up because he saw Jesus in us. Like all the other truckers we rode with Daniel had stories countless as the mile markers he drove by. Instead of offering to save our souls, he offered us a place to stay if we ever pass through his town.

40.1) (11/26/96) Corpus Christi to San Padre Island

After sleeping at the edge of a commercially zoned cornfield near the freeway we caught a bus to San Padre.

41) San Padre Island to Mustang Island State Park

We were deceived into thinking that hitch-hiking on this island would be a simple task after getting picked up by the second car to pass. It was a guy in a pickup carrying interoffice mail bags. We didn't really talk to him.

42) Mustang Island State Park to Port Aransas

Really tan drug dealer in a ridiculously small car.

<43) (11/28/96) Port A. to just outside of Robstown

After camping on the beach and getting fine sand into every item we owned, we packed up our things and hitch-hiked the hell out of the blustery, cold, overrated barrier reef that separates Texas from the Gulf of Mexico in the back of a pickup truck with a nice family.

44) To Robstown

Rode with a Donald Sutherland look-a-like who kept telling us he wasn't afraid. Good for him.

45) Robstown to Alice

Mike, Jessica, and their chihuaua. She wore silky red, he wore black leather, and the dog wore an angora sweater. They were going to Alice to meet their relatives for Thanksgiving. We can only imagine what the family would be dressed like. After several moments of revered silence they asked us if we were from Nightline and did we have a hidden camera.

46) Alice to some Podunk Town

A nice Mexican woman picked us up in the rain and transported us to a Sno-Cone stand on the outskirts of said Podunk Town.

47) Sno-Cone stand to Freer, TX

Texas law only recently outlawed drinking and driving, but as we all know, people are slow to change. He asked if our car broke down and offered us a beer. We explained and declined.

48) Freer to Laredo, TX

Rolando, an ex hitch-hiker who still hadn't found what he was looking for, would have offered us a beer but he only had the one he was drinking. He offered us Thanksgiving dinner and a place to hang our hats for the night. Although he was already late for dinner, through no fault of his own, he brought us right to bridge #1 in downtown Laredo which was well out of his way.

Gringos at large,

Goldfish and Pedro

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