Here’s six short tales of encounters with gay guys in unexpected and out of the way places in the early 1970’s when, except for New York and California, homosexuality was hardly mentioned, seldom discussed, always frowned upon, and in most states, totally illegal. Why, a blowjob could get you 5 years of hard time in a state prison.
1) Being raised in southern California I’d never experienced autumn. Since it was late September I thought I’d hitch hike up to the northeast to check out the fall foliage. I was in upper state New York heading towards Vermont and already the diversity of the leaves with their various colors astounded me. From dull oranges and browns to brilliant yellows and reds, plus they came in all shapes and sizes. The floor of the forests were carpeted in ankle deep multi colored splendor that crackled underfoot as you waded through them. I was enchanted by the loveliness of it all.
I’m back on the blacktop hitching after finishing lunch. I had walked into a small cafe in a wide spot on the road with a guitar case in my hand. The waitress asked if I was any good. I told her I was good enough so she said she’d buy my dinner if I would play for the lunch crowd. I played for half an hour with my case open and not only got a free lunch but made a few bucks too.
Since it’s a small country road I stand for quite awhile but I sure don’t mind. Both the scenery and the weather were beautiful. Around 3 p.m. a car with a lone guy in mid 30’s driving stops and asks where I was going.
I tell him and he tells me to hop in.
He says he’s driving straight through to Augusta, Maine and I can ride that far with him if I want.
I tell him I’m just up here to see autumn and since I want to take my time I’ll probably get out when it starts to get dark.
As he drives we chat. He tells me he’s a teacher in Albany and is on his way to see his parents for the weekend.
I tell him that I’m from San Francisco then about my lifestyle of hitching around the country just for fun.
He says it sounds both exciting and dangerous to him.
When it starts to get late he tells me he’s changed his mind. He’s too tired to drive much farther so how about he gets a room and I can spend the night with him. He’ll get a room with 2 beds, plus he’ll even buy me supper. Sounds good to me.
He stops at a small town near the Vermont border and gets a room. We dump our stuff in the room then head out for dinner. Afterwards, back in the room he asks which bed I want and I pick the one nearest the door. He then suggests that I be the first to take a shower, which I do. I dry off, come back into the room still nude then get into bed. He takes his shower. He comes back into the room, dries off in front of me then gets in bed with me saying, “Ya know, it’s going to get mighty cold tonight and that heater looks in pretty bad shape. So I think it’d be a good idea to sleep together, don’t you?”
I laugh and tell him whatever he wants to do is cool with me.
He tuns off the lights.
2) I’m hitching in the deep south sitting on the curb on the outskirts of a small town in Alabama. I thought the south would be extremely risky for a tie-dyed wearing long haired hippie from California, but I’ve been having a great time. All the southerners, both the hippies and the rednecks, have treated me with kindness and curiosity. In fact, since being in Dixie I’ve hardly ever had to put my tent up and sleep in the woods. When ever it starts getting late whoever I’m with almost always offer me a place to sleep and a meal which is sometimes accompanied with moonshine and afterwards, guitar playing. I break out my Gibson and happily join in.
I’m sitting directly opposite Gay’s Beauty Salon and I just have to laugh. Being 1973 here, deep in the land of cotton, I doubt seriously that the locals have the slightest idea what “gay” means. To live in a place where gay still means happy. Such innocence. But here’s come a pick up truck. I stand up and stick out my thumb. The pick up stops.
The driver, a guy who looks to be around 30, tells me he’s only going to his farm about 15 miles up the road, but I am welcome to ride with him that far. Since I’m not going anywhere anyway, I get in. He says they don’t see many hippies in these parts and asks where I’m from.
When I tell him San Francisco he looks at me real hard then says, “You ain’t one of them queers, are you?”
I assure him that I am straight and love pussy.
He looks kind of disappointed. He looks at me again saying, “That’s too bad. If you was queer, and if your dick was big enough, then I’d take you home and let you fuck me in the ass all night long.” He shrugs, “Oh well.”
I tell him yeah, it’s too bad.
After a few minutes he says, “Could I at least see your dick?”
I tell him okay and whip it out. He looks at it for a second then says, “Your dick is plenty big. You wouldn’t mind too much if I sucked it, would you?”
I tell him to make himself happy.
He pulls over and right on the side of the road gives me a quick blowjob.
As we get to his farm he says, “Sure you wouldn’t like to spend the night?”
I thank him for the offer then tell him it’s way too early for me to stop for the day.
He says too bad and I get out. As he heads up his driveway I think, ‘maybe they do know what “gay” means in these parts.’
3) I’m hitching on the interstate out in the middle of nowhere somewhere in North Dakota. It’s early morning and even though it’s summer, it’s cold and windy. I sure hope I don’t stand here too long because the rides aren’t coming real fast. Not only isn’t there much traffic but the vehicles that do pass seem to be either full of old folks or truckers, neither of whom hardly ever pick up hitch hikers. Luckily, I have a small tent and a very good down sleeping bag or I would have frozen my ass off last night. As soon as I can I’m heading for warmer climes.
Here comes a semi. Not much chance of a ride but what the hell, I stick out my thumb. Hey, hey! He’s slowing down and stopping. I run up to the cab.
As I am the trucker, a young looking guy, comes around the front of his rig. He asks where I’m going.
I tell him anywhere warmer than this.
He tells me he’s going to St. Paul and it might be warmer there. Then he says that as long as he’s stopped he might as well take a piss. He takes out his hose and whizzes against one of the tires. He repacks his tool then tells me to get in.
As soon as we’re in the cab, he says he’s tired and gets into the sleeper. I’m sitting in the passengers seat thinking this is pretty weird when he sticks his head out and asks if I’m queer.
I tell him no, I’m straight.
He looks at me for a moment then says, “So I guess you wouldn’t like me to fuck you up the ass?”
I say I guess not.
Then he says, “Well, then how about you fucking me in the ass?”
I tell him I don’t do no ass fucking unless there is a shower with lots of hot water nearby.
He then asks me for a blowjob.
I say, “I guess you didn’t understand me. I don’t have gay sex unless I can take a shower right afterwards.”
“So” he says, “I can’t give you a blow job either?”
By now I’m getting pissed. This guy is a total jerk so even though I’m not opposed to him sucking me off I say, “No! No ass fucking. No cocksucking. No anything. Don’t you understand English.”
He gets back in the driver’s seat. He’s quiet for a minute then he turns to me saying, “Then this is as far as I go. Get out!”
I grab my pack and exit the vehicle. As I do I tell him, “You ain’t never going to get any with that attitude. You fucking asshole!” I hit the pavement then slam the door as hard as I can.
He pulls away leaving me in the wind and cold. A place I’d much rather be then riding with a no class so of a bitch like him.
4) I’ve got my backpack on and am walking down a street in Wichita, Kansas heading towards a freeway on ramp which, I’ve been told, is about a mile away. The last guy who gave me a ride dropped me off in town because I wanted to get something to eat and rest up awhile before starting out once again. As I’m walking a car pulls to the side of the street.
An older looking guy in a station wagon rolls down the passenger’s window and asks if I need a lift?
I tell him I do then I thank him for stopping.
He tells me to get in then asks where I’m going.
I tell him the freeway.
He says, “No. I mean where are you heading for?”
I say, “Anywhere the rides take me as long as they’re going in a westerly direction.” I had been on the road for the entire summer and wanted to get back to San Francisco more sooner than later.
The guy introduces himself then tells me he was just driving around and would be happy to give me a ride west.
As we rode he asks me to tell him all about the City, but mainly he wants to know about “the sex parts.” Since this was a typical request from dudes who picked me up I had a bunch of especially juicy stories ready for the telling and launched into one of my favorites. Listening intently his hand starts moving across the seat towards my leg. I notice it but ignoring it I stay with the story. After a while he moves his hand onto my thigh.
When he does I stop my narration and ask what did he think he was ding?
He looks at me with real fear, jerks his hand back then starts crying and telling me how sorry he was for molesting me.
I tell him to cool the blubbering, it’s all right. To calm him I tell him I have lots of gay friends in the City so having a guy touching me is no big deal.
He thanks me for being so understanding. Then he tells me that he’s been a homosexual for as long as he can remember. However, when he was a young man no one ever came out of the closet because if one did then, if they were lucky, they’d only get beaten up then run out of town. If they weren’t, they’d be labeled a pervert and either sent to prison where they’d be killed or killed outright by the upstanding citizens of the community. Even today, here in the Midwest they have to be very discrete, homosexuals are still a secret society.
I tell him he should come out to the coast. There are plenty of gay people there living in their own ghettos and having a ball.
He says he sure would like to but he’s got a wife and children and besides, he’s too old now. Who’d want to be with an old queen?
I tell him to think about it. It’s never too late to change.
He just shrugs.
We ride along in silence for a bit. After awhile we come to an off ramp that leads to a small town. He tells me this is as far as he can take me.
I tell him thanks for the ride and reach for my pack. He tells me to wait a minute as he gets out his wallet. He hands me $10 saying, “This is for you for being so understanding. You know lots of guys I pick up will curse me when they find out what I am. A couple of them have even hit me or threatened to turn me into the cops and all I wanted to do was suck their peters.”
I tell him that’s okay, he don’t have to give me any money. Him giving me a ride out of town was enough.
He says, “Take the money. I can afford it and you probably need it.” As I take the ten he says, “And I hate to ask, but would you mind terribly if I sucked your peter?”
I tell him to go for it.
He thanks me then smiles as he unzips my pants, takes my cock out and goes down on me.
5) I’m hitching on a 2-lane road in eastern in Idaho coming from Yellowstone, one of the weirdest and most bitchenest places on earth. The whole park is full of intensely active extremely hot water and very large wild animals. Hiking there is always a real thrill. In America most of the really dangerous wildlife has pretty much been either killed off or scared away. However, in Yellowstone it’s not unusual to be walking down a trail and come upon a big elk with a huge rack of antlers, or a full sized buffalo standing taller on 4 legs than you are on 2. Or the ultimate thrill, an adult grizzly who could very well make you his dinner if he so chose. Whenever I come upon any of them I start looking for a tall tree I can climb, just in case...
Plus, coming into the park from Jackson Hole you pass the Grand Tetons (French for Big Titties, and who doesn’t like those?), a magnificent range of mountains that rise up right out of the plain the highway goes through. I spent a week in Yellowstone hiking a little of the back country and hitching the roads. Since it’s late September and it’s already getting cold so most of the tourist crowd has left but I still didn’t have any trouble getting rides. Most of the folks up here are pretty friendly.
I left the park this morning heading back towards the west coast where it should be warmer. The local who gave me a ride wasn’t going far but the way I figure it, any lift that helps me down the road is fine by me. After a couple hours of standing I decide to hoof it. As soon as I start walking, a van stops with a guy about my age driving.
He asks if I want a ride?
Why certainly. I throw my pack in back then get in.
He asks the usual questions and I give my unusual answers; I’m from San Francisco and just hitching around the country going where the rides take me while working as little as possible
He’s intrigued with my gypsy lifestyle. He tells me that he was born here and, except for when he got drafted and was sent to Fort Hood in Texas for basic training then on to the Nam as a motor pool mechanic, he’s never been anywhere else in his whole life. Nor has he ever wanted to go. He, along with his parents, run a small campground a few mile up the road. When we get to his driveway he stops and asks me, how would I like to see the campground? Why, he’ll even make us lunch and if I want, I can take a hot shower before hitting the highway again. Sounds good to me.
He shows me around and it’s a very pretty place. It’s in a wooded valley with a fairly large stream running through it, which, he says, has some nice sized Brown Trout in it. Since it’s the beginning of the off season there are quite a few empty spaces with only a couple of cars and tents scattered around. We head into the main building where he shows me the kitchen then he says, “While I make us some lunch, would you like to take a shower?”
I tell him a hot shower sounds fine to me.
He leads me into the Men’s bathroom where he gives me a towel while telling me to use all the hot water I want.
I take off me jacket and kick off my boots. As I start to unbutton my shirt the dude turns around to face me. He drops to his knees, unzips and reaches into my pants, hauls out my wang, pops it in his mouth then starts sucking. Oh well, I guess he just wanted an hors d’ovre.
6) I’m on historic Route 66 on my way to my all time favorite place on the face of this earth. The Grand Canyon!. It is so awesome that it is almost unfathomable to my poor little pea brain. My God, the space, the solitude, the ages of the solid rock! It is truly a wonder. The guy who picked me up in Gallup is going all the way to Flagstaff, the Gateway to The Grand Canyon, which is only a short 70 miles away. I could be on the rim by this evening watching the sun set over all that immense beauty.
But what’s this? We’re coming into Winslow, Arizona and, oh yeah, there’s that Eagles song. Well, I just have to check that out. I tell the dude to let me out in the middle of town so I can see if that song is true.
He just laughs and shakes his head as he pulls over to the curb. I get out, retrieve my backpack and thank the guy for the ride. He wishes me good luck as I close the door. He pulls away
So I’m standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona. I whip out my Gibson then start playing and singing, “Take It Easy.” And it is a fine sight to see because within a few minutes there’s a white Ford pick up with a camper slowing down to take a look at me. Darn! There’s a dude driving it instead of a girl. Oh well, you can’t have everything, and he is stopping to give me a ride.
I put the Gibson away, shoulder my pack then go up to the window and look in. The driver is a hippie looking guy a little older than me. I ask where he’s going and he tells me Flagstaff. Now ain’t that a kick. I must be fated to go directly to Flag this day. I throw my stuff in the cab then follow it in and down the road we go. I tell him about me getting out in Winslow because of that Eagles song then I say, “When I saw your Ford pick up slowing down I thought it all was coming true. But then I saw you was a guy.”
He looks at me saying, “Well then, ‘Don’t let the sound of your own voice drive ya craaazy.’ so ‘Take it easy’, dude.”
I nod and we both laugh.
By the time we’re on the outskirts of Flagstaff, and after smoking a hooter that he’s thoughtfully provided, we’ve become buds. He tells me he has a really bitchen house out in the country with a hot tub on the other side of town where, right now, he’s living all alone. And if I’m not in too big of rush to get to the Canyon, then I’m more than welcome to spend the night at his place.
I tell him I’m in no hurry at all. I’d be happy to keep him company for the evening.
With that he smiles at me then he reaches over and putting his hand on my knee says, “Oh, by the way, I hope this doesn’t change your mind, but I’m gay?”
I just smile saying, “Hey, I ain’t prejudice.” And down the road we go.