A Good Ride

Tales from the Road: I was headed west, hopefully California.

There I was in my rubber-soled hiking boots shuffling backwards, on the safe side of the gravel-lined breakdown lane, facing the steady traffic of Hwy. 62.  In my left hand was a cardboard sign that read, “Truth” with an olive branch drawn beneath the greeting.  The thumb of my right hand pointed toward the western horizon serrated with scotch pine tree…