Itchy Lessons In God!

 Long time past, when I was such a youth and my heart was searching for life and the days of experience were passing me by, I set my sight on a trip across Canada. Of course the seasons were now running short and I had a long way to go. There was no thought of tickets, for money was none and responsibilities were reaching out for my youthful days. So one clear morning I set out from my home in southern California on my walk about to the far north.

By late afternoon I found myself riding in the back of a pickup with two other traveling souls heading into the southern end of the Big Sur coastal range along the Pacific California coast. Soon We were dropped off at a bridge spanning a creek called Strawberry and there we spent the night. A group of other campers and hitch hikers set around a camp fire telling stories and exchanging their experiences, which I as of yet had none.

Morning came and I did some exploring and observed this creative group of Hippies begin their daily ritual of “Spare Fooding It”. This basically was where two of the group (usually one guy and one girl) would stand on the bridge and hold out a hand scribbled sign asking, “Spare Food Please!” I laughed at first but soon had to toss away my dubiousness when I saw, at first one, then another and as time went on more and more cars, trucks, buses and even motorcycles stop and hand over all kinds of food, money and things? I will write another story about this another day but let me go on here.

I once again stuck out my thumb and was soon being carried up Highway 1 and beyond. Spent another night alongside a lonely creek and the next day I found myself traveling with two college students headed for Frisco. From there I went north up the coast but something began to happen to me at this time. I began to itch and I began to scratch. I found myself at some strange mountain commune built into an old abandoned saw mill and stayed a day or so observing this seemingly free life style. As my itching grew worse I became more anxious to hurry on and so I did. By late afternoon I was nearing the Oregon boarder but now I realized that somehow, I must have contracted poison oak and oh boy did I ever itch. I was covered with it and the only thing that I could think of was that night at Strawberry Creek, I bet we were burning sticks and leaves gathered from a poison oak patch. I never had poison oak like this before and thought I’d get something for it the next day and so I did. I stopped into a drug store and bought some cream recommended by the clerk and soon got on my way. I thought for sure that this cream would soon cure me….wrong! In the heat and with my back pack straps digging into my shoulders I soon found myself covered completely and it was worse on my most tender parts, I’m itching right now just thinking of it.

The road was now stretched out for miles ahead of me, very few cars were passing but the heat beat down on me. Soon great storm clouds began to tumble along the distant mountains and I was wishing for rain, anything to cool me down. This was terrible and I was going nuts, the itching was so bad that I couldn’t stop scratching which was the worse thing that I could do. After about two hours of waiting on that very nice off ramp reaching northward I just couldn‘t take it any more. I began to cuss, kick and I guess if anyone had been watching me they would have thought that I was being attacked by bee’s and no ride came my way. Oh there were cars but fore some reason no one would stop for this very irritated looking guy. Then I began to doubt my effort to find adventure and began to wonder about God. I for some strange inexplicable reason pondered if God even existed and if He did, why was He allowing me to itch so bad? Didn’t He know that I was out looking for adventure and some experience?

Well this reasoning went on and on until my thoughts were wondering if God even wanted me to go north. Then a peculiar thing happened, I sort of made a deal with God, if there was a God? I said, “Ok God, I am going to wait here with my thumb out and count 50 cars and if none stop for me I will cross over the highway to the other side and stand on the on ramp headed south and if You want me to go home, I’m asking You that I would get a ride within a reasonable time and make it a good long ride before I have to get out and hitch again. So I began counting cars…1…2…10…25 and so on. Somewhere near or past 50 I really got mad, for I thought that there was no way 50 cars could just breeze on by, didn’t they know that I was really in need?

I skipped the 50 and to make sure I didn’t miscount I waited an extra 20 but no go. The heat was back on, the itching was nearly unbearable and I was sorely miserable. So finally I picked up my pack and with all hesitation and doubt I slowly walked across the bridge to the on ramp headed south and towards home. I turned down the ramp and was walking to a clear spot and before I got there I heard a car coming and sort of stuck out my left hand out sideways not really even looking or trying. Suddenly, this pickup truck slowed down and before I even stopped it pulled up next to me. The window went down and a mans voice called out if I wanted a ride? I tossed my pack into the back of the truck and climbed in and we pulled away headed south towards home.

As soon as we got onto the highway the man turned to me and asked, “Well there, you look pretty beat, where you headed?” I sort of gasped a little, this guy was really, well, really not the most pleasant looking man. His face was ruddy red, he had bulb bulging eyes fixed into a huge extended forehead. He was bald except for white stringy hair hanging down from around the side of his very large head and he was as if hunched over with very large strong hands locked upon the wheel. He waited for my answer, and it was as if he was waiting for me to make up my mind but first he wanted me to see his face, for what it was.

I finally managed to speak, the only thing I could thick of was that my itching was so bad that I didn’t care if I got a ride with a giant reptile, I really wanted and needed the ride and answered with whatever smile I could come up with through my scratched up face, “I’m headed south to southern California.” “Hey, that’s nice, I’m headed that way myself, where about are you going,” he asked. My suspicions grew a little but said, “Just off I5 to a street called Valley View.” “Your kidding, I go right by there, I’m headed for San Diego and I’ll pass there,” he sort of chuckled and added, “Your welcome to come along if you want?” “”Well, sure, that sounds pretty good to me and that is really nice of you to ask.” “Hey, no problem, it will be good to have someone to talk with, it’s a long haul. And by the way, what the heck is the matter with your face,” he inquired as his huge bulby eyes peered at me with serious curiosity. I laughed inside, thinking, your asking about my face, hey, how about yours, but caught myself and said, “Oh I must have picked up poison oak when I was in Big Sur and its really a bummer,” I explained as I itched. “Oh really, I use to be a dermatologist way back when and we’ll stop along the way and get something for you, that stuff can be pretty serious if you don’t take care of it right a way.” Now I was really taken back, how the heck could a guy like this have ever been a skin doctor but didn’t want to ask about this and maybe he was just trying to get me off somewhere or something. I muttered, “Sure.”

Somewhere south of Frisco he went into a drug store and came out with a few things for himself and tossed me a bottle of old fashioned Jergins lotion. He said softly spread some of this lotion over your skin and it might help you for now until you get to a doctor. He went on to explain the chemical make up of poison oak and how its acids burn the skin and how this simple lotion has sort of a solvent that works to dissolve that particular acid. It will slowly help but it looks like your going to need some professional help, but until then this will begin the healing process. So now I was really baffled, and the ride was not only good but the man and I talked about a lot of things in life and after about 10 hours of hard driving he came to my street. It was early in the morning and instead of just dropping me off on the side of the road, he turned off the freeway onto Valley View and went about 10 miles out of his way and pulled right into my driveway and said, “Well, here you are, its been really nice talking with you and have a great life.”

I sat there for a moment full of gratitude, “Is there anything I can do for you I inquired, some food, or how about some gas money?” “No, that’s ok, got everything I need,” then he thought for a moment and asked, “Could you maybe fill up my water jug here,” and he handed me a one gallon plastic milk jug. I jumped out, grabbed my back pack and said, “Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.” I went into the house, turned on the water and let it run for a few seconds until it got nice and cold and then filled the jug up. This entire effort only took about two minutes and I was back out the door.

“Hey, where the heck did you go,” I exclaimed and looked around. I walked to the edge of the driveway and looked up the quiet street and couldn’t see anything nor could I hear any car driving away. I thought I was dreaming or just really tired but looked down to see the full water jug in my hand and I knew that I had gained some experience and something strange had happened to me.

By: Michael M. Michaelson ©

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