Nov. 18, 2012 – Asheville, N.C. to Knoxville, Tenn.

Frustration. Elation. Resignation.

My day started and ended on the highway shoulder. I’ll be back there before the sun rises.

It’s 9 p.m. as I sit in Dunkin Donuts on the outskirts of Knoxville, Tenn. When I finish my meal, I’ll head up into the forest to find a place to pitch my tent.

It took only minutes to find a ride once Valerie left me just outside Asheville this morning – I hadn’t even made my hitching sign before a young couple scooped me up.

They were pretty cool, until they dropped me off in the worst spot ever. I stood on a deserted highway shoulder for an hour, doubting I’d ever find another ride. After a while, I decided to try my luck on the actual interstate. Definitely sketchy and iilegal, but it was pretty much my only option.

After 10 minutes, an beat-up black Camaro screeched to a halt, honking me over.

She stopped me as I opened the door.

“Are you a bad guy? Are you going to hurt me?”

“No way!” I answered, laughing.

Megan was a 30-year-old native of Oakridge, Tenn., heading home from Asheville for the holidays. I’m guessing she’s pretty strung out all the time, but she was in an especially bad state today, after her antics last night’s Burning Man decompression party – the same one I’d attended!

“You were there?” she screeched. “No shit! That’s karma!”

As we crossed the Tennessee border and started cruising through the Smokey Mountains, Megan hollered along to Elvis with the windows down. It was great.

I didn’t know it, but my good fortunes were set to end as Megan dropped me off on the western edge of Knoxville. I had been feeling good as I ambled down to the on-ramp. But after an hour, I had no ride and had been kicked off the road by a local policewoman killed my spirits.

After gathering my spirits, I elected for another hour just outside the gas station. Pointless. Until Chris trudged by.

A 33-year-old wanderer and self-professed criminal who’d hitched all over the country for years, Chris told me to follow him along the interstate and not worry about ‘dumbass cops’. I walked with him while soaking up all the information I could.

We parted ways at the next exit just as the sun was going down, and I spent the final 20 minutes of daylight hoping for a lift. No luck.  As darkness fell, I started walking the stretch of fast-food joints, keeping my eyes out for a camping spot along the way.

I began preparing for my first night as a bum.