Magazine

March 2011: A long, strange trip

A dusty red convertible picked up this hitchhiking hippie and showed him the future

"As we drove through the California and Arizona desert, outrunning a thunderstorm, he began to tell me his story."

It was the late summer of 1969, and I was a 21-year-old hippie from Southern California with shoulder-length hair, hitchiking east to Aspen to chase a girl I’d met that June. I drank to excess on occasions, but I was firmly planted in the hippie culture with all its medicinal remedies. Hopelessly trapped for hours on a remote freeway onramp, I took a chance, walked out onto the freeway shoulder and stuck out my thumb, a move that the California Highway Patrol would have immediately arrested me for. Swerving across three lanes and skidding to a halt was a shiny new red convertible with a... Login to read more
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