Posted on 10/16/2026 7:20:12 PM PDT by DoodleBob
It was once all too common to drive down a two-lane highway and spot a stranger on the side of the road, thumb out, a bag slung over their shoulder or resting by their side.
During the Great Depression, jobless Americans thumbed rides from strangers as they traveled far and wide in search of opportunity. Amid World War II, picking up a hitchhiking soldier became a patriotic duty. The practice later became associated with the hippie lifestyle of the counterculture movement—a chance to break free from the status quo.
“For quite a number of decades, it was not considered a particularly dangerous thing to do,” says Ginger Strand, author of Killer on the Road: Violence and the American Interstate. “It was simply a way of sharing resources.”
….
In the 1960s and '70s, enforcement of stricter state laws and local ordinances sought to regulate or limit hitchhiking, and federal law enforcement agencies began actively warning about its dangers. One FBI poster depicted a well-dressed hitchhiker and informed motorists that a stranger could be a “friendly traveler or a vicious murderer.” In reality, Reid says, “It was less about hitchhiking and more about, how do we get rid of this countercultural presence?”
By the mid-1970s, hitchhiking began to decline in the United States, …Stopping and pulling over was suddenly more dangerous. All the while, the counterculture movement was dying down.
…
It didn’t help hitchhiking’s cause that a few high-profile murder cases involving hitchhikers became media sensations, and the warnings proliferated. At the same time, the high way killer quickly became a common trope in American culture, Strand says.
“It becomes a theme in movies,” Strand says. “Before that, hitchhiking was typically only used in Hollywood movies as a meet-cute. Then it becomes a way of introducing mayhem.”
(Excerpt) Read more at history.com ...
On I-75 in northern Michigan, there’s a road sign telling you not to pick up hitchhikers. Apparently there is a detention facility in Grayling.
I sometimes had to thumb across town to my grocery store job back in the mid 60’s.
Totally different times back then. I wouldn’t dream of trying it now. Nor would I pick up a hiker. Last one I stopped for was a hiker in the Smokies in the late 90’s...
I used to hitch from the middle of Vermont to Boston all the time when I was in college.
I would never do that now. Even armed.
Why not six?
Maybe it’s a New England thing, but we never called it hitchhiking. You we “thumbing” or “thumbed”. Example - How did you get to the beach today? I thumbed.
I was born in 1970, in the 80’s I thumbed everywhere. It was still very common at least in Massachusetts. My parents used to get mad, but they didn’t allow me to have a car and they both worked, so what was I supposed to do? They wanted me to ride my bike everywhere. Which I did quite a bit, but thumbing was easier.
We lived south of Boston. A common weekend activity was thumbing to the town of Braintree so you could then take the T (MBTA) into Boston. I never remember waiting more than 20 minutes or so for someone to pick me up. Those were the days. Found memories.
I hitchhiked everywhere in the 1970’s. Met some really interesting people that way.
Was surprised that beautiful women traveling alone would frequently pick me up. The trick was that I always carried books, and used manila folders as signs with my destination.
I joked that I was part of the Navajo transportation system in Arizona, as I always picked up hitchhikers. The trick was to drive by them and watch them as they walked up to the car. If anyone else popped out of the brush, I drove.
Once picked up a hitchhiker when my two Old English Mastiffs were in the back seat. That guy was shaking the whole time.
Riding my Thumb to Mexico
https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=ariding+my+thumb+to+mexico&mid=2DD0697C2E32249DE3BA2DD0697C2E32249DE3BA&churl=https%3a%2f%2fwww.youtube.com%2fchannel%2fUCOyYuGW4Fsd-PWPM5l4VSBw&mmscn=stvo&FORM=VAMGZC
I stood on the corner of the freeway onramp (in uniform and with crutches) and car after car slowed by and a hand came out of the window with a center finger extended and then the V of the "peace sign" and then roared off.
After an hour or so of this, an MGB sports car slowed and the door opened and I finally had a ride. It was quite difficult to get into that small car with my full-length leg brace and the crutches, but I made it.
We drove almost to Santa Ana on the freeway and the young man driving asked me how I broke my leg. I told him that I was shot. He asked "where" and I pointed at the middle of my right thigh. He said, "no - what country" and I said "Vietnam".
He hit the brakes and pulled off to the side of the freeway and said,"get out".
I got out and crutched my way to the next offramp and the hitchhiked my way back to the hospital.
Such was life in the '60s for those of us, back from our war.
The last time I saw a “hitchhiker”, it was a woman - when I slowed down, I saw a big Black guy lurking behind a nearby tree and opted to not stop.
Today?
No phookin way.
Back in the day?
I hitchhiked everywhere.
Across half the country.
1,000 mile trips was common.
It was a very, very different world.
That is a GREAT insight.
Likewise here.
Hitchhiked 10 miles to high school starting at age 13, books under arm. (No school busses for parochial school kids, which would probably please the many anti-Catholic bigots here on Free Republican).
Hitchhiking was an art form. Giving passing motorists that forlorn look, especially when it was pouring rain or snowing. Sometimes it would take three hours and four rides to make that trip, others a swift ride to the street where you lived.
Never had a single incident in four years, over 1400 trips.
But it was the ‘50s.
I picked up a hitchhiker on a dark, lonely country road. As he got in and we started out he said:
“How do you know I’m not a serial killer?”
I said: “What’s the chances there’d be two of them in the same car”
8 million stories in the naked city.
We were the only two who ever did anything like that!😃
Reminds me of “The Ride” by David Allan Coe ...
My family traveled a lot when I was young following my father from army base to army base. In high school I wrestled. During my college years, I went to school in NYC at Columbia. In NYC at that time you needed to have a strong situational awareness to walk the streets. I hitch hiked across the country several times during the 1970’s. Given my life experience, I could spot in an instant the kinds of people I did not want to ride with. I’d just give them a wolfish grin and wave them on. They would grin wolfishly back at me and drive on. It was professional respect.
I never waved anyone on and you sure wouldn’t want to do that in the parts of the country where hitchers got stuck, like in Tucson which was hard to get through, or the western outskirts of New Orleans heading to Baton Rouge.
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