The year was 1969. I was sitting on a curb next to my best friend "Little Steve", waiting for a ride. Little Steve was 6'1", but nevertheless one inch shorter than I, Big Steve.
We were just outside Kansas City Kansas and had been sitting and suffering in the hot summer sun, waiting for a ride, for over 4 hours. Earlier in the day were had been escorted off the highway by the Kansas State police, with a warning that we were only allowed to hitchhike on the entrances to the highway. Unfortunately very few cars were entering the highway using the entrance where we were waiting.
After what seemed like an eternity, a car stopped and the driver rolled down the passenger side window shouting "How much bullshit you got?" Steve and I looked at each other, wondering what he was asking. I suspected he was inquiring if we had any drugs. We were pot heads, but smart enough not to hitchhike across the country "dirty". And actually most of the rides we got were from hippie-types anxious to turn US on.
'What do you mean?" I asked, and he replied "I need to be at work in Denver tomorrow morning. If you guys can talk and keep me awake for the next 8 hours, you got a ride!" We jumped in his VW Beatle, and proceeded to tell that driver every story we knew.
The next morning Steve and I woke up in the living room of the driver's beautiful condo in Lakewood, CO. He had already left for work and left us alone, trusting us in his home. He left a note saying "Help yourselves to coffee and breakfast and please be sure to lock the door when you leave".
This was our first day in Colorado and we were already in love with the state. We were young and ready for adventure. Although our cardboard sign read "California or Bust", we spent the rest of our summer vacation from college in Colorado. I swore someday I would return to live there.
Later,
Steve
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