This guy had crossed over into Canada at Sault Ste Marie . I don't remember if he told us what his reason for coming was, I do remember thinking after less than 5 minutes with the guy that we had made a mistake.

We basically let him talk, he seemed to like the sound of his own voice and he talked a lot.. The problem came when he started telling us about his days in the Navy and how he and his buddies would "act homo" to shock the civilians when they went into a port on leave. During the course of this story he put his hand on Bruce's knee. We nervously laughed at his story while Bruce removed the hand from his knee.

He repeated part of his story and this time put his hand on Bruce's thigh, his other hand left the wheel and moved the little dog in tighter to his crotch.Bruce removed his hand again and said "we get the picture, you don't have to keep touching me." I had my hand on the door ready to open it.

The guy gave a sigh and reached forward and felt under the seat.When he straightened up he had a gun in his hand.It was just like the gun Clint Eastwood used in Dirty Harry. A .357 Magnum, and believe me when he pointed it at us it looked as big as a fucking cannon.I said "WHOA!" I was terrified, absolutely terrified. He had a good grip on it, I know for a fact because I couldn't take my eyes off that gun in his hand. I'm Canadian, we don't have handguns up here outside of police and shooting clubs, this was the first pistol I had ever seen.

He pulled over onto the shoulder and I heaved against the door, Bruce was right behind me. We took off into the woods. I don't think either of us has ever run so hard or so fast. I kept listening for the gunshot that I was sure would happen. It didn't. He didn't try to follow us either. We stayed hidden as we heard a door slam, then another, then he tore off down the road.

Bruce and I both vomited. We couldn't stop shaking but it finally ceased and when we were calm we cautiously made our way out of the trees back to the highway. The truck was nowhere in sight but our packs had been dumped on the roads shoulder. At least he wasn't a thief.

We were in the middle of nowhere and any cars that came along looked startled to see us there. No one picked us up. Hours passed and we collected ourselves and got back to normal. Finally we flagged down a bus that was heading for Kenora. It cost us 17 bucks but we felt safe.

We pulled into Kenora as the sun was rising. Bruce and I needed food so we made our way to a diner we saw.The food was amazing and I made my way to the restroom. Inside were three little boys. The two bigger ones were trying to lift the littlest one so he could pee. I lifted the little guy up and his brothers undid his pants. Then when he was done I carried him over and held him up while he washed his hands, then I lifted the other two so they could wash as well.. As I set them down I realized their dad was watching me.He thanked me for helping his sons and we started talking as we made our way back to our tables. I met his wife and introduced Bruce.

They offered us a ride to Regina, the capital of Sascatchewan. Out of Ontario, across Manitoba , and halfway across Sascatchewan....what a great ride. We kept the boys entertained in their VW bus, they were thankful to have the boys distracted by us. Turns out he had been a correspondent during the Viet Nam war and he told us some incredible tales. We hardly saw Manitoba we were so engrossed in his stories. I did see the mint though, where they make all our money.

It was with real regret that we said goodbye to those fine folks. We exchanged address's and I got a Christmas card from them for about ten years. Nice people.They were exactly what we needed after our run in with the gun guy.

Bruce and I found a youth hostel and got a room there. We went out for a beer and soon realized that every hooker in Regina worked across the street from the youth hostel. They were funny to watch. In the morning we set out again . Rides were hard to come by and the flatness of the prairie was depressing because when a car or truck didn't pick us up we could watch them for the next 20 miles or so. We finally got a lift to Swift Current and got a trailer at the youth hostel there.We sat around a campfire with other travelers and shared stories.It was a great night. There was a young couple hitching together, the girl had told us he was just a neighbour of hers and that there was nothing going on between them. The guy told us she was his girlfriend. Wishful thinking on his part. He kept us entertained by trying to show us she was his.He'd put his arm around her, and she would slink out from under it. We heard them fighting after we went to bed. It was funny.

In the morning we got a ride into Alberta.

I have often felt that I was born 10 years too late, the main reason for this is because I was only 10 years old when Woodstock took place. I have seen the movie of that wonderful event probably 30 times, and it STILL bugs me that I was too young to be there. Yeah yeah, I've heard all the horror stories about it too.But I will regret not being there til the day I die.

But, being born when I was enabled me to catch the tail end of things...good things, before society went all to hell.

Want an example? I was allowed to walk to school and back...alone,all kids were, male and female. To play outside without being restricted to just my own yard. Any pedophiles during my childhood were too scared of being found out.Touch a kid or snatch a kid, and it was certain death.Not like it is today.

Another example was hitchhiking. I used to hitchhike all the time. Lots of people did.It was a cheap and interesting way to travel.Sure there were risks, even back then, but it was generally considered safe.

When my family moved when I was 9, my parents joined a bridge club to meet new people.One of the couples in the club had a son close to my age named Bruce, and Bruce and I became best friends.He shared a love of music much like my own. Rock and Roll baby!! The louder the better.While we both knew the Beatles inside and out they were too soft for our tastes. The Who, Deep Purple, David Bowie....they belonged to us. The Beatles belonged to our older siblings.

My parents house had two basements, an upper and lower basement.In our lower basement we had a slate pool table and a ping pong table. It was great because you could hear if anyone was coming because of creaking floorboards....but people upstairs couldn't hear you. I spent a lot of time teaching girlfriends to play pool if you get my drift...
But before that, Bruce and I would crank the tunes, shoot pool and play a wicked air guitar on our pool cues.We bothered no one.
And somewhere along the way, we decided that we should hitchhike out West.I think he was 14 and I was 15 when we came up with this brainstorm. I don't really know why, but it took root. That idea stayed with us and began to grow. We got our first job together so we could save money for our trip, and we did save it. We checked out maps, read about the west, and really became consumed by it to be honest.All the while we were rocking to the tunes and shooting pool.I remember getting David Bowie's live album "Bowie Live at the Tower Philadelphia", and after that we became live album die hards. No more studio stuff for us.Bruce bought Deep Purple's "Made in Japan"....we were in heaven.

Eventually we told our parents of our plans. Naturally mine shot down anything I had to say on the matter, just as they did on everything I had to say. Bruce's folks said he was too young.Well, time moved on like it always does, and though we got girlfriends, went to different schools, and found our musical tastes expanding, we still didn't give up the dream of our trip.

In May of 1977 I turned 18 and my parents couldn't stop me. I had my own money and I was going.Bruce's folks agreed to let him go, even though he was still a minor. I had a devoted girlfriend at the time. We were "in love", in that desperately, fiercely passionate way that only teenagers can feel.We had surrendered our virginities to each other and had been together for quite a while.She didn't want me to go, but she knew it was going to happen....the sex was incredible.

Plans were made, hell, Bruce and I had planned everything , we had been planning for years, we were ready for anything, or so we thought. I cut my hair which was long , because I figured more people would be likely to pick us up if I looked more "presentable". The day came, the tearful goodbyes were made to the girlfriends and to my surprise my dad offered to drive us to the ramp of Highway 400 so we could start out. We took it.

I'll never forget my dad's last words to me as I got out of the car with my backpack. I was setting off across Canada, traveling by thumb, about to encounter many strangers and many things that I had never witnessed before....My dad said to me...."Thom, do you have enough handkerchiefs?"

I had never owned a handkerchief in my life.