I made it to Seattle at last. Mind you, I had no time. I was busy day and night from the moment of arrival. I did win a Saturday free though, and it was not coincidentally, on the Saturday Morgan, undoubtedly North America's most proactive hitch-hiker, had called the North American Hitch-hiker's Gathering. We had a venue, Picnic Shelter 3 at Seward park, and the guarantee of five to ten people turning up. Or so I said to Irv, one of North America's oldest hitch-hikers, who laughed. Well it was November, notoriously cold and wet in this part of the country and not exactly ideal timing to lure hitchers out into the open. But it was all the time I had, and I was glad for the opportunity at last, however briefly to catch up with at least two of the most significant North American hitch-hiking icons I've come across, Morgan Sal'man Strub and Irving Thomas, and perhaps a handful more.
It was the the warmest, driest October on record I think, and Saturday offered fine, if chill, weather. I got a lift to Seward Park, Picnic shelter 3. No-one was about. Not a soul. Was I early? No wait, there was a sign. A large hand drawn thumb! I was in the right place. It welcomed arrivals to the gathering and invited them a nearby Airstream van for a cup of tea.
I'd never seen an Airstream before. An apparent icon among American caravans, a long metallic trailer that looked like it had been cut out of the fuselage of an airplane.
As it caught my eye, a dog came wandering over from the van with a woman not far behind. Krista was expecting me. I was the first arrival. She was Morgan's neighbour in Portland and ran the La Palabra Café-Press there. She'd brought a fried Anne, and offered to cater the event.
It was warm in the van. Morgan was there, Krista and Anne. I'd long wanted to see Morgan. An inspiring energetic passionate soul. We'd talked on the phone and corresponded for a year or two now and I think
