First Post. Second Day.

Hey,

We're currently in Nelson, BC, staying in a backpacker Hostel. Seems like a really nice place so far; There's showers, a kitchen, and free pancakes. Seems golden. I'm dead tired, have blisters on my feet and a sunburned face, but it's worth it.

I'm taking pics along the way, but have no means of transferring them from my camera. I'll supplement the blog later with them.

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We caught the early bus into Princeton around 6:15am. It arrived about 10:30, and we headed down the highway attempting to hitch along the way. Two hours later we were still walking. The stretch of highway was beautiful, but the lack of success disheartening. Eventually a refurbished muscle car pulled over. "Give me all your drugs," he said jokingly as we climbed in. This introduction was fairly revealing of his personality; A few minutes into the ride he sparked a joint and stated he was seeing Blue Oyster Cult and Fog Hat in Penticton. We made idle small chat for the rest of the trip, and he dropped us on the edge of Keremeos. The ride definitely reassured us.

As we stood adjusting our straps, another hitcher approached us from down the street. "Hey guys, want to buy some mushrooms?" It appeared that drugs were a common theme with transients.
"No, we're good, man."
"No worries, bro. I'm just heading to a party on the Island. Later!" He reassumed his position on the street as we headed to a fruit stand for refreshments.

We had much better success hitching out of Keremeos than Princeton. Apparently there was an accident on the far edge of town, blocking all threw traffic. This left only locals to pick us up.

3 minutes of holding the "Osoyoos" sign snagged us a ride in an air conditioned truck. The driver was a native of Osoyoos returning to see an old friend that was back in town. Apparently his grandfather was one of the original settlers in the area, and owned acres of property. Half an hour later, he dropped us off and we made our way through Osoyoos.

The sun was beginning to set as we reached the far edge of town. We contemplated setting up camp, but thought we'd try for Greenwood. We located directly behind the turn-off for the Nk-Mip Winery in front of a fruit stand. This choice prooved rather frustrating as many vehicles capable of carrying us made us made a hard-left through the orchards.

Two guys on bikes stopped and chatted. They had biked with no supplies from Alberta into BC. Only a lack of funds forced them to turn around. We said our farewells as they creeped into an orchard to steal peaches. We related this story to a later ride and he said, "It's not stealing if your hungry." It seemed fitting.

After no luck thumbing for Two Hours we were about to give up. A voice beckoned us from behind.

"You boys going to Greenwood? We can take you as long as you behave." An eldery couple stood beside their motor home. I was vaguely aware of their presence, but thought better than to ask for a lift; None of our rides had come from this demographic. We climbed into their motor-home and headed through the mountain on the edge of Osoyoos. I had been awake for 14 hours at this point, so the jostling of the car eased me into a light sleep, and I awoke to find Greenwood. We got off near a campsight at the edge of town.

They strangely never offered us drugs.

Greenwood was a depressed town that's population barely reached the definition of 'city'. I'm assuming they use the term lightly. To create the image of normality, the town erected 'false-structures' comprised of only the fronts of buildings between the real ones. From the right angle the downtown core resembled a bad western flick. The businesses that still operated were likely for sale. I cracked a joke about the real-estate office being for sale.

We strolled into a pizza parlor and ordered a medium 'Green Thumb': A veggie-laden pie with a thick crust. The food slid down easily as we hadn't eaten in almost 10 hours.

We wandered back to the camp site after buying a case of beer and crashed following a failed attempt to build a fire.

The next morning we packed up and hitched out of town in favour of breakfast. Some left over apples sufficed instead. We employed a "BEER 4 RIDE" sign and quickly had a lift. Strangely enough the guy didn't drink, so we hauled the brews through Grand Forks and were forced to dump them on the side of the highway. Shameful.

Our next ride has been my favourite so far. He was an educated man that had hitched in the 70s and 80s. He related tales and was more than willing to part with advice: "I once broke into a National Food Resource Depot in Manitoba and started pulling vegetables: Peas, Carrots, Potatoes. It was either that or starve." Unfortunately, he was only heading a few kilometers down the road to Christina Lake.

This has been the hardest place to hitch out of so far. A lot of tourist traffic runs through the area and seems unfriendly to hitchhikers. Three hours in mid-day heat later a girl felt sorry and offered a ride. She was heading well past Castlegar, our intended destination, and a full 110km into Nelson. Hippie Culture awaited!

I almost threw my pack into her backseat before realizing her two year old own was placed directly under my sights. I recoiled in horror, and rode most of the trip with my pack on my lap. The boy was originally very withdrawn from his new companions, but eventually maintained a very friendly conversation with Gregg in the backseat. Part of this involved throwing his shoes at Gregg, then demanding them back with intermittant bouts of laughter. Pretty cute.

The road is curious; Moods can fluctuate greatly on very simple things. A good ride can instantly raise the spirits.

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So now I'm staying in a backpacker's hostel, waiting in line to have a shower and do some laundry. We're going to head into town tonight for some beers and music at a local bar. See ya out there...

-Tom