"Never pick up hitchhikers" has been my motto for years, but I had a different feeling about this one. He had a carton at his feet as he stood on a busy street in
“Haven’t I just seen you somewhere before,” I asked?
“You could have, if you were at the gun and knife show. I have a table there. You might have seen me selling books, that’s what’s in the carton.”
“That’s it,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t get around to your table, but I wanted to get back on the road. I just stopped to check out the guns, see what is available. So what kind of books do you have?”
“My own”, he smiled. “Been working on it for years. I keep adding to it as I get new information, people send me ideas all the time.”
“You’ve got me curious”, I said. “I don’t meet many authors. What is your book about?”
“ Well, I hope I don’t freak you out, but I’m a survivalist, my book is about shelter, that’s my specialty.” He looked at me, gauging my
“No problem,” I assured him. “I’m a survivalist too, it’s at the heart of my philosophy. But I want to hear about you and your book.”
“Like I said, it’s a shelter book. My specialty is converting automobiles
into survival shelters, old cars, junkers to be exact. I’m living in one now, that’s where I’m heading.”
I had to admit I had not heard about cars as shelters, not on a planned basis. I was fascinated, and told him so. He was glad to have someone to talk
to who was as interested as I was and he opened up to me. But just as he was starting to tell me his story his road came into view.
“That’s it,” he said, “just a dirt trail, you could drive right by if you didn’t know it as there.”
As I slowed to a stop, he looked at me closely, making a decision. “Want to see my place? It’s not far off the road.”
Although I had a journey to complete, I couldn’t turn down his invitation. “Love to.” I turned into the dirt lane and after we pulled in, the road disappeared behind the foliage of the trees and shrubs