Ah well - everything old is new again. In college I hitchhiked 17 miles to campus each way for several years. I don't recall any alleged killers, but I did meet a lot of people who offered me weed (or more often, asked me if I had any). This includes memorable one time I got picked up by a 250 pound, muscle-short wearing, fu-manch wearing, bald-headed biker driving a Crown Vic late 70 model) with a Harley strapped to the back. I was hitching from Northeast Connecticut to the Rutgers campus to chase teh latest object of my misguided affection. By the time I got there (he was driving right by the campus by happy coincidence), I was woozy and had the munchies from the second-hand smoke (I no longer partook by that point - I'd gotten my crazy on earlier than most and got it out of my system)
On another occasion I also hitched 200 miles to see my best friend's wedding. I missed the wedding, but made the reception. I made quite an impression when I asked the mother of the bride (my friend' bride was a preacher's daughter, and my friend a preacher's son) if I could use her shower because "I'd been hitchhiking through rural Vermont for 6 hours, and I probably smell bad". After my friend explained that I wasn't crazy (well, at least not too much, even if I did smell bad), they agreed and I changed into the spare clothes I'd brought for the reception. And it was worth the trip.
Those were the days when we really brought teh crazy. Had a lot of fun, too. I still do, but in a much more laid back way.
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