I wrote a while ago about how common hitchhiking is on Saltspring. It was something that I really enjoyed about the place. It makes such sense in a place as remote as this with inhabitants as interdependent as islanders. I took to it quickly and joyfully.
I learned I like chatting with people, especially in short bursts, say 10-15 minutes. The passengers I picked up seemed to feel the same. Often they led the conversation and I followed along It was a great way for me to ask questions about the local lore. I really grew to love the warmth and civility of these brief interludes.
Now that I am back in the Bay area, the game changes a bit. We don't stick out our thumbs around this city, not as a rule. We also don't pick up people we don't know. But each workday morning from 7 until 10 a.m., the rules are boldly cast aside and casual carpooling, aka hitchhiking, runs riot around the outskirts of town. A person with a car and empty seats stops at a known intersection where people have queued to get into these cars. They are all headed across a bridge into San Francisco during rush hour and they all want to get there faster and cheaper than they could travelling on their own.
This arrangement has definite benefits. The driver legally accesses the multiple occupancy carpool lanes, noticeably less crowded than the regular lanes, and skirts the toll of $4 to $6 depending on the bridge. The passengers arrive downtown faster than if they had taken a BART train (usually), and with $3.50 in their pockets to spend on a cup of designer coffee. There is an unspoken agreement, not to hurt the driver or crash the car. Peace prevails.
There is however, absolutely nothing social about this interaction. Actually it is quite the opposite. As a rule, there is minimal, if any, talking. "Good morning" and "Thanks for the lift" are it. The driver is not available for soundboarding on the weather, the state budget crisis, the intention of the trip into town. At first I found it awkward, but over time, it has grown less so. I find it easy to sit in my own world, gazing out over the water as we head into town, either enjoying or tolerating whatever may be on the radio or the silence of our pod.
The truth is I can easily drift into my own world and actually need more reasons not too. So while I will continue to ride and drive the casual carpool train, I look forward to the smiles and "How do you dos?" and the "Do you think the lambs look a little small for this late in April?" conversations when I return.
p.s. Audi sedans are still the smoothest ride out there -- something I learned when I owned one, back in the day...
I learned I like chatting with people, especially in short bursts, say 10-15 minutes. The passengers I picked up seemed to feel the same. Often they led the conversation and I followed along It was a great way for me to ask questions about the local lore. I really grew to love the warmth and civility of these brief interludes.
Now that I am back in the Bay area, the game changes a bit. We don't stick out our thumbs around this city, not as a rule. We also don't pick up people we don't know. But each workday morning from 7 until 10 a.m., the rules are boldly cast aside and casual carpooling, aka hitchhiking, runs riot around the outskirts of town. A person with a car and empty seats stops at a known intersection where people have queued to get into these cars. They are all headed across a bridge into San Francisco during rush hour and they all want to get there faster and cheaper than they could travelling on their own.
This arrangement has definite benefits. The driver legally accesses the multiple occupancy carpool lanes, noticeably less crowded than the regular lanes, and skirts the toll of $4 to $6 depending on the bridge. The passengers arrive downtown faster than if they had taken a BART train (usually), and with $3.50 in their pockets to spend on a cup of designer coffee. There is an unspoken agreement, not to hurt the driver or crash the car. Peace prevails.
There is however, absolutely nothing social about this interaction. Actually it is quite the opposite. As a rule, there is minimal, if any, talking. "Good morning" and "Thanks for the lift" are it. The driver is not available for soundboarding on the weather, the state budget crisis, the intention of the trip into town. At first I found it awkward, but over time, it has grown less so. I find it easy to sit in my own world, gazing out over the water as we head into town, either enjoying or tolerating whatever may be on the radio or the silence of our pod.
The truth is I can easily drift into my own world and actually need more reasons not too. So while I will continue to ride and drive the casual carpool train, I look forward to the smiles and "How do you dos?" and the "Do you think the lambs look a little small for this late in April?" conversations when I return.
p.s. Audi sedans are still the smoothest ride out there -- something I learned when I owned one, back in the day...
