Summer time is superior – statistically

Outstanding memories pepper my memories of being on the road. How could I ever forget Officer Opie in Cape Neddick, making me walk from one end of town to another with him driving slowly behind me? What about when my buddy and I went by logging roads across Vermont? That was one rugged shortcut” we’d never forget. Then, we were caught in soaking rain for the entire day. Everything but my guitar was wet – and that was because our waterproof stuff was around the guitar. The guitar was our means of procuring meals and drinks when we got where we were going. It had priority. Yes, sweet sweet summertime memories.
Ninety percent of my hitching occurred in the summer. There had to be a dire need for me to hit the road in the winter. Snow on the ground, a bad weather forecast? Some people would say that drivers will take pity on you. Good luck with that! Even back then, only one in 250 drivers considered picking you up. And in the winter, they don’t see you or don’t want to stop due to icy conditions: freeze, baby, freeze. I can still see myself huddling frozen, praying that the fuzz would bust me and take me to a nice, warm police station.

There was that one time, the poor guy who picked me up had car problems and went to a garage in another town. It was that or have a breakdown. It added ten miles of misery to my trip. Luckily I scored some cash and had enough for a bus to get me the rest of the way. I spent the next five hours looking out at slushy roads from the overheated interior of a bus. I wasn’t complaining.

Right about now, you are asking yourself, where did that 250 driver’s number come from? Did he pick a number at random?” How dare you insult the statistical analytic methodology of the Fraternal Brotherhood of the Road! We derived that figure from multiple days of counting in high-traffic areas. We “field tested” the methods outside of DC, near New York City, Toronto, and one unfortunate trip with my friend to Muleshoe Texas to see his girlfriend – Ruby “the Belle of Muleshoe.” And by the way, the National Mule Memorial is the only thing worth seeing.
So these are our figures, and we’ll stick to them.

In any case, Summer is my favorite time of year. And it would be yours too if you ever walked ten miles in the freezing rain with a hole in the worn-out sole of your boot. So unfurl that banner that says Summertime in a fancy curly script with flowers embroidered.
You skiers can keep the frozen stuff!