Riders on the storm

First I got a lift from Graham Piercon that looked exactly like Paul Newman, so once more I met a famous person. I have already met Paulo Cohelo in Katmandu (viva la Sulek) and Tom Cruise in Beijing. I told my story to Graham or Paul as you wish you can call him and when I was leaving his car in Slave Lake he gave me 20$. Then I caught another generous guy that serves me pomes fries, two cans of Bud and as a gift to remember him I received a baseball cup. It was 4p.m when in freezing cold I tried to hitchhike in the middle of nowhere on the road that I couldn’t find in my map. Gray clouds where hanging just over the ground and my situation in one word was just fucked up. And then adventure started. Two completely drunken Indian women stopped their pick-up just by my rucksack asking how to get to Lloydminster. They were lost so they picked me up with belief I can show them the way. I knew the direction because that was my next bigger town where I wanted to catch some truck to Winnipeg or at least to Saskatoon. But the ladies refused to follow the road I chose and we drove back to Bonnyville. When they finally asked one guy about the road we were on our way. After ten minutes the lamp signalling low fuel flashed but they hadn’t got any cash and were sure we could do it without refilling the tank. I was sitting on the back sit smoking my tobacco and watching another amazing sunshine on the prairie, while they were drinking another bottle of booze. Just before the Lloydminster they lost the way second time this evening and we were driving around trying to find the highway. And of course petrol has finished, engine stopped and because of the wheals were blocked we jumped out from the road directly into the field. We were laughing all the way but in that moment women got scared but after a second the car sounded with their laugh. Somehow we managed to call the husband of one of the women. He came in half hour took his wife and disappeared in the darkness searching for some petrol. I stayed with older woman called Brenda in the field and the only thing we could do was to smoke and talk. She started her story why she is actually driving this car. She was aunt of the second woman and she was taking care about her because she was trying to commit suicide notoriously every week and than Brenda almost started to cry but our conversation was interrupted by police, which just arrived. Policemen were a little bit shocked and surprised with our situation, they wrote our names down, we had to empty all booze and with gods help we weren’t punished. I heard that I should be more careful and choose the people who give me lifts properly. I still don’t know how can do it? After next hour rescue mission with fuel came back but none of the women was able to drive so I offered myself and the last 35km I was driving pick-up to Lloydminster with drunken Brenda on my side. Distance of 120km I reached after four hours but it was worth this time. Adventure with police, booze, Indians on North American highway or I should say close to highway.