I was riding up the interstate heading northwards from Portland, Oregeon , hoping somehow to make it to Alaska. It was a longshot, but the summer was fading and I needed some distance under my belt to make myself feel alive again, having been stationary for far too long.
I’d been picked up some miles back by an 18-wheeler who’d hesitated as he pulled out of the gas station, but paused for too long not to stop. I was sitting in the passenger seat up front, about ten feet above the road, probably the best view you can get travelling across country.
The truck driver seemed to be of some kind of Native American descent but just grunted Wolf, when I asked his name. He was a quiet man, friendly but distant, his arms covered in homemade tattoos, his face deeply lined from a lifetime of Marlboro cigarettes and Wild Turkey. He’d obviously lived in this truck for sometime, it was littered with delivery notes, ancient food wrappers, overflowing ash-trays and various ripped plaid jackets and he soon told me that he didn’t actually have a proper home anymore. Guns’n’Roses were on a virtual loop on the cassette player, broken up only occasionally by a blast of indecipherable noise from the CB.
We’d been driving through the dark for several hours without really talking when he muttered through the smoke,
-I’m gonna stop somewhere up here and park up until daybreak, then get on the road ‘till I hit Vancouver. You can sleep up here if you want, I’m gonna lay out in the back.
Vancouver was a good direction for me, so I said that it sounded cool, we drove for about another half an hour, then pulled over into a truck park. He clambered over onto the bunk behind the seats and I made myself as comfortable as possible on the seat. I stuck my coat over myself and managed to slip into some low quality sleep, woken only a few times by the noise of the other trucks firing up their engines and pulling away.

When I woke up it was half light, Wolf was back in the driving seat and we were once again cruising up the interstate. I looked at him, he nodded and we continued on. There was no cassette playing, which I was thankful about, so the only sound was the rumble of the engine and the blasts from the CB. I found it all strangely comforting and peaceful.
It started to rain, in that kind of end of the summer way, the wipers came on and I got mesmerised by the patterns they smeared onto the greasy, insect splattered glass.
After a few hours we started hitting the outskirts of Vancouver, low industrial buildings and advertising hoardings started flying by, the morning rushhour of the city was just starting to kick in.
-I’m gonna drop this trailer off just up here and then pick up another and head North. You can stick with me if you like, it won’t take long and I’ll be kinda going in your direction.
Wolf was so laid back about it all, and he was heading in my direction so I agreed to go along with his plan. It saved me having to get out of this little haven and waste time trying to get another ride in an unknown city.
We turned off the interstate and into a run-down industrialized area on the edge of the centre of town. Now we were driving slower and I could follow the pedestrians along the sidewalk as we crept parallel to them and then past them.
After we’d been driving for a couple of minutes, Wolf’s attention suddenly fell on a group of four men walking towards the direction we were travelling in. As we got closer he became fixated with them, I could see that he was trying to make out their faces exactly and as he drove past them he slowed the truck to a virtual standstill. They stared up at the truck cab but didn’t seem too concerned and kept walking. Wolf then slammed on the brakes and brought the whole truck and trailer to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road.
He lunged over and opened up a bag next to his seat, after a couple of seconds he came out with a large bowie knife, the blade glinting and unsheathed. He looked into my eyes with pain and anger, but somehow I knew it wasn’t directed at me. Then he turned and swung open the door of the truck. He said nothing as I watched him slide off the seat, then he turned again and faced me, my brain hadn’t even had time to get scared. He let out an assertive, ‘hey’, and went back into the bag.
Before I could say anything he handed me an even larger, tribal looking knife.
-Hey, I need some help here. Come on.
After stating this, staring right into my eyes, he jumped the eight feet down from the cab and disappeared to the back of the truck.
I threw the knife onto the floor of the cab and looked in the wing mirror, seeing him run up onto the kerb and kick one of the group of men in the back, straight onto the sidewalk. The others turned.
I suddenly didn’t want to be in the truck anymore. I rooted around behind the seat and found my bag. I climbed over his seat and jumped down onto the road, out of sight from the scuffle on the sidewalk and ran. I didn’t look round.