My ex use to pick up hitch hikers when ever he thought they needed a ride. Only once did he pick up a very young couple when the kids and I were in the truck and they really did look pathetic. After a day at the beach, we were coming up a steep little hill to find 2 teenagers, pooped out on their bicycles. They just weren’t making it up that hill! He offered, they happily accepted and we all hauled up the hill into town.
When the kids were little, stroller age, my car got a flat 2 miles outside of town on a 110 degree July day. This was before I had a cell phone, so rather than sit in the car and die, I loaded them into the stroller ad pushed my way up the highway. A man in a pickup stopped, speaking no english, but wasn’t going to leave us walking if he had to follow us with his truck all the way into town; that was my impression. I put the stroller in the back, got in between him and the kids and hoped for the best. He dropped us off at the first exit with a gas station—he could see I was freaked out terrified and I think he felt bad.
I used to pick people up on Dead tour all the time (80s -n- 90s). If they looked like hippies and seemed headed for the next show, in the van/car they went. Not only did I never have any trouble, I sometimes got high for free too!
I used to hitch in HS and college a fair bit. I once hitched 65 miles each way to see a girlfriend on a day off from working at a summer camp. This was northeastern rural PA. I had long hair… I stood in the hot sun a LOT that day, waiting for a ride. 
I haven’t picked up a hitcher in a long time, which is a shame because I read faces fairly well and sometimes drive by someone thumbing and I feel, ahh, that’d be okay.
I don’t believe that times have changed at all. I believe that we all know more about each other’s lives than we did 30 years ago.
The last time I picked up a hitchhiker was about 1990. I was getting off of I-95 near Wilmington, heading towards… 440? North into PA again, and a gal had her car broken down ON the off-ramp on the left shoulder. She got out and was standing in a bad spot. I honked, pulled over and she ran and got in. I asked where she needed a ride to and she was clearly freaked out about having taken a lift. She kept mentioning her boyfriend, her big boyfriend, etc. I offered her the use of my cell phone to call said b.f. to let him know we were taking her to his house, that she was ok, etc.
I felt bad that she was so freaked, and yet still took a ride. Made me unnerved, and I’ve not given a ride since.
Cartooniverse
I pick up hitch-hikers fairly often, though not much recently.
I usually make a judgment about the appearance of the person, location, etc etc before deciding to stop.
If I’m in a hurry, I don’t stop. I also don’t stop on entrance ramps to the highway, and when I’m carrying musical equipment in my car.
I’ve met some interesting people, some mildly sketchy people, but never have felt unsafe.
I’ve never hitch-hiked myself.
My husband has picked up hitchhikers, but the one time I did he was so furious that I won’t ever do it again.
I was on my way back to my office when I saw a guy dressed in a suit carrying a heavy looking bag walking about 1 mile past where I’d seen a broken down nice car. He appeared to be (and was) making his way toward the industrial park where I worked. I pulled over and asked if he needed a lift. It was MOTHERGRABBING hot out, I felt sorry for him walking, and it was long before cell phones were out/common. He accepted, I dropped him off at his office, and I went to my own. My coworkers and husband all had shit fits over it and how he could have killed me etc. I didn’t think it was that big a deal. He was overweight, sweating like a whore in church from even that short walk in the heat, and didn’t look like he had the energy to do me much harm.
I wasn’t worried, but I won’t do it again. If I do get killed by a hitchhiker, I dont’ want everyone at my funeral talking about how stupid I was.
Well, back in my misspent youth, (the 70’s), I did a lot of long distance hiking, but never in the city.
I went from Toronto to Dawson City, in the Yukon, and back. Stopping and camping in many places along the way. And that was back in the day of those moon man packs with the external metal frames. We had a tarp, sleeping bags, food, pots and pans, oh, and a guitar in a cardboard case. Two very small girls and these massive packs, I look back at the photos and have to laugh.
We had a few ground rules; never in the city, never hesitate to say no, never after dark.
It was a great adventure for us both (She was an Asian foreign student!), we had lots of interesting rides. Saw some spectacular country. Traveled some very challenging highways and found ourselves in many interesting situations. Saw the Northern Lights, heard cougars in the wild, panned for gold, met lots of odd ducks living off in the wild, worked in a carnival, heard a thousand bear stories, and returned, safe and sound.
We didn’t have boyfriends then, to get all bent out of shape. I never told my parents our means of transport until I returned. When I called from the road and they’d ask me how we got to where ever we were, I’d say, “Well, we met these people who offered us a ride!”
There were a lot of people who tried to talk us out of this trip, mostly because it didn’t really have any higher purpose, or aim, than us seeing some of this country.
She lives in Asia now with a husband and child and here I am with a husband and mortgage, but we still laugh over the wonderful times we shared!
I pick up hitchhikers by default. (A statement somewhat irrelevant in the present, as for many years now I’ve been a Manhattanite sans car, but we’ll ignore that).
If an individual hitchhiker gives me odd vibes at a glance and I’m not comfortable with the situation, I’ll drive off or not stop in the first place, but that’s unusual.
It’s the hitchhiker, not the person picking up the hitchhiker, who is generally most at risk.
I’m tall even if not muscular & bulky, male, don’t look remotely wealthy, and my cars, when I’ve had them, have always been ancient machines. I might have a different answer if I were female, small, driving an expensive modern vehicle, and had kids in the car with me.
Man, there’s a lot of good stories in here. I haven’t read every post yet.
Yes. I have stopped for hitchhikers, and probably would again. The last time I did I ended up going about 20 Kms out of my way to drop the guy off at a work site. He told me his brother, or brother-in-law maybe, had borrowed his car and didn’t return it, and that he was late for work as a result.
I felt sorry for him, and he was very appreciative of the ride.
I too used to hitch hike in the 70s and 80s. It was far more common back then. I once got in a car with a group of drunk and high on acid kids. Well, I was a kid too, but it scared the shit out of me. Not the kids, but the erratic driving on 2 lane southern Ontario highways around Grand Bend. Ahhh, I miss those days…
I haven’t hitchhiked in a LONG while, but I am wary about picking up hitchhikers these days. Whenever there’s a strike in public transportation (hasn’t happened in ages), I give lifts to as many people as I can.
Occasionally I’ve given lifts to people who were obviously tourists with backpacks.
Once, around 11:00 pm, I stopped and picked up a very young girl who was hitchhiking, dressed in a mini and wearing too much make-up. She got in the car and I started driving, all the time scolding her for hitchhiking that late at night, all alone, and dressed in such flimsy clothes, and asking her the address to her parents’ place. She let me go on for a
while until it slowly started to dawn on me that she was a working girl, and thought that I was a potential customer. Hell, I was about 45 years old, female.
I said something like: “Oh, you don’t want to go home, do you?” and she said no. I asked her if she wanted to be dropped off where we were, and she said she’d rather be closer to downtown.
That’ll teach me to give a lift to a female hitchhiker from downtown Montreal, near St. Catherine and the Main.
Nope. Sorry, even if the hitchhiker didn’t kill me, my family would. Although my husband did give a back-of-the-pickup ride to one guy who was obviously stranded.
I hitched a lot when I was a teen, up in ski country, back and forth to/from the ski resorts.
Around here (home) I’d pick up hitchers if they didn’t look sketchy, if I wasn’t in a hurry to get somewhere, and I’d usually go out of my way a bit to bring them to their destination, instead of just up the road a piece in their direction. The last hitcher I picked up was about 4 or 5 years ago.
My wife has a much different world view than me, and she’s made me promise I won’t pick up hitchers, so those days are behind me. And for the record, I was never harmed or threatened by a hitcher.
I’ve picked up exactly one hitchhiker in my life. He was a hot young guy wearing skimpy blue running shorts and no shirt and I was a horny and frustrated college student with porn scenarios running through my head. I stopped, he got in, I drove him for about forty miles which was as far as I was going in his direction, he said thanks as he got out and I drove on with a total lack of porn-worthy experiences. That was almost 20 years ago.
I wouldn’t pick up a hitchhiker today for a number of reasons, one of which is the safety concern and another is that I usually have so much shit on the front seat of my car that moving it all to give someone a ride is a total pain in the ass.
I didn’t pick up a hitchhiker, per se, but I was at a convenience store when a gal approached me and asked me for a ride a couple miles away. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, and I didn’t want to look like a dick by refusing, plus I also thought about the fact that it was at night and that the next person she asked might take advantage of her (i.e. rape), so I let her in and dropped her off at her destination.
I’ve never hitchhiked myself, but someone did offer me a ride once and I accepted. It was a hot July afternoon and my car had broken down. I had no cell phone at the time and I was facing a walk of nearly a mile to the nearest pay phone. Before I got there someone stopped and offered me a ride. He looked clean-cut and trustworthy, so I got in. He gave me a ride back to my mom and dad’s house. It turned out he was the older brother of a guy I went to school with. He recognized me but I didn’t remember him. Nonetheless, I was quite thankful for his good samaritanship.
A few weeks ago I was asked for a ride by a grandmotherly type. It was early on a Saturday and I guess her daughter and grandkids were still lazing around in bed. Not she. She was going to hoof it a mile or so to the Apple Tree Market to do some shopping. She wasn’t above asking a nice “young” lady for a lift, though. I thinks that’s the way they probably do it back in the old country (Portugal.)
I did, once - was in college, and driving to campus one Saturday morning, when I saw an older woman (as in, 60s) waiting near the bus stop. She stuck her hand out with a hopeful expression, I let her in, and we actually became friends.
Not since then though. Well, except for cruising bus stops for total strangers during morning rush hour 
(a common occurrence here in the land of carpool lanes). I’ve also been known to get into strangers’ cars in similar circumstances - NoVA folks will recognize the concept of the slug line.
You’re not the first to express this sentiment, but what exactly is “different” these days? If you haven’t hitch-hiked recently, how would you know?
The media does not offer an accurate portrayal of today’s society, and I doubt it’s much, if any, more dangerous than earlier decades.
It may not actually be any more or less dangerous but it is certainly perceived as being much more dangerous. And since perception is reality, it is therefore more dangerous.
I picked up one a few years ago. In town, and they needed to get to the hospital. And indeed, I dropped her off at the hospital. Nice lady.
Normally I never would.
Oh, and I don’t know if it’s all that much more dangerous here. I think it’s just more well-publicized.
I used to hitch all the time while in high school during the 70s. No long distances, just around Chicago. The standard procedure was to head to the bus stop and stick out your thumb. If someone picked you up before the bus came, you saved paying the fare.
And in college, one winter while living off campus I broke my ankle. I would make it up to the main street, stick my crutches in a snow bank, and within minutes some driver who had been on crutches in the past would have sympathy for me, and would drive me right to wherever I was going. It was a joke, that I was able to get around faster with a broken ankle than I ever did before or after.
It’s been a while since I’ve picked up a hitcher. Mainly because I won’t if my wife is with me - she wouldn’t appreciate it. And I just don’t seem to see many hitchers. But when I did in the past, I never had any unusual experiences at all. In my experience, the majority of hitchers just need/want to get somewhere. Most of them I met seemed to be tired, more than anything else.
When I was stationed in Sicily, Americans would routinely hitch rides with each other. That was within a contained population, though.
Here in DC, many commuters get to work by slugging, which is basically glorified hitchhiking. I did this for years.