Thumbs Up! Hitchhiking Race in Lithuania

2018.03.26 #Baltija100

My long-time friend Mei, whom I haven't seen in a while, posted on a community forum.

'There's a hitchhiking race in Lithuania on 19th May, is there any brave and adventurous young souls would like to team up with me?'

At that time, I was far away in Southern Europe on an exchange program, while Mei was in the freezing cold of the Baltic region, where temperatures could drop to minus 20 degrees. She was one of my best friends at uni. In a world filled with quirky characters from the design department, Mei stood out as even more peculiar. Neither of us fit the mold of being conventional or socially accepted. We often found ourselves oscillating between self-acceptance and seeking approval from the group.

Booking a flight to Lithuania happened almost unconsciously, and it was only later that I realized it fell on my 21st birthday, making it even more magical.

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Crazy decisions come with a price. The impulsive decision meant we couldn't find any affordable direct flights. Eventually, after a challenging journey from Denmark to Lithuania, I finally made it to Lithuania to meet Mei after a month of obstacles and setbacks. After a brief overnight stay, with our brains still groggy, we set off for the gathering point.

Let me briefly introduce the event. It was a hitchhiking race organized by a local Lithuanian group called the Hitchhiking Club (yes, these people make hitchhiking their hobby). The race was held annually with the aim of promoting Lithuania's beauty to a wider audience. The rules of the competition were simple: teams of two had to travel across Lithuania, passing through checkpoints with varying difficulty levels (Latvia and Poland also had neighboring checkpoints). The team with the highest score within two days would be the winner.

checkpoints map

As a self-proclaimed underachiever, I had no competitive spirit. After confirming which checkpoints Mei wanted to visit, her response confirmed my assumption: she was taking a laid-back approach to the race. So, I decided to treat the hitchhiking competition as a milestone in my life that I could later brag about with my grandsons (although I hadn't decided to have kids or not).

Mei and I before the race

Before setting off, Mei decided to bring along a chicken mascot from Canada, saying, 'Maybe people will be more inclined to give us a ride if they see it.' As for me, a traveler who had rushed all the way from Spain, I ended up carrying a watermelon in a makeshift backpack (only then did I realize that we were truly interconnected). Well I genuinely thought Taiwanese people are super rare in Lithuania so I think people would just stop for curiosity. This implied that my Asian face would be my cosplay (a completely boundary-less joke).

Meanwhile, other participants looked like this.

People started gathering at 8 o'clock.

There were a total of 29 teams participating this year. The departure order was determined by drawing lots, and we drew the last slot. We could only watch other participants, dressed flamboyantly like peacocks, hurry off towards the highway underpass. I still remember how nervous I felt at that moment, although I had no idea about the first checkpoint. The organizers, seeing our confusion, came to interview Mei and me, leaving behind a video that would later be considered a stain on our lives.

https://facebook.com/99056117903/videos/10156547436822904

'Where are you from?'

’Taiwan!’

’Where are you going? ‘

‘I don't know! ‘

‘We're going to Raudone!‘ (the ending point for the first day where we sleep)

How other participants hitchhiked

I forgot how our hitchhiking journey started. Before I knew it, we were already in a car, and I entrusted Mei to communicate with the driver in broken Lithuanian, saying things like 'I'm Taiwanese,I love Lithuania, I study here,' and 'Lithuania's winter is very cold.' These were normal things that felt difficult to convey to regular people. I sat in the backseat, fulfilling my role as a tag-along.

View from the backseat

The weather in Vilnius in May was unpredictable. Standing by the roadside for too long would result in heatstroke when the sun came out, and the temperature would drop 4 or 5 degrees instantly when the clouds thickened and it became cloudy.

An hour passed in the blink of an eye, and we hadn't even reached a single checkpoint. At one point, we were chatting happily with the driver, and when we snapped back to reality, realized that we were left in the middle of a desolate wilderness, 10 kilometers away from our destination, walking for an hour and a half without a car in sight.

Hitchhiking competitions heavily rely on luck and intelligence. You must have a clear understanding of your destination, know the directions, and then leave everything up to fate and serendipity.

But here, there were no cars. Not a single one!

Mei with a deadpan expression

My phone kept buzzing with notifications of other teams reaching checkpoints and confirming their task completion pictures. Meanwhile, Mei and I took turns going to the forest to solve our natural calls, silently squatting in the desolate wilderness where there was nothing but a dog named Tomac, a Lithuanian woman, and a statue of the Virgin Mary.

I had never felt so hopeless before. I thought, 'Is the competition going to end like this today?' Helpless as I was, the switch for spontaneous adaptation and self-adjustment that travelers possess immediately flipped. Although we were trapped there for an hour and couldn't understand what the woman was saying, I had a great time playing with Tomac.

Me and Tomac

While I was busy playing with the dog, Mei, in her eagerness, stood by the roadside, nodding at the rare passing cars. Finally, an old Ford slowly pulled over just as I was about to reveal my thigh. The car window rolled down, revealing two somewhat fierce-looking middle-aged men. My heart sank.

Countless scenes played out in my mind, thinking about what my flatmate Gerald told me about the history of European hitchhiking kidnappings. Then I looked at Mei, who had already opened the car door, and behind her was the cheerful wagging tail of Tomac, and the desolation of that place. I sighed. 'Do i have better choice?'

Once we got in the car, the men remained silent and didn't respond to our broken Lithuanian. Mei eventually gave up on communicating, and we adopted a passive attitude, going wherever they wanted to go. After all, heading north should be fine, right? As I pondered, the car suddenly pulled over by the side of the road. The driver opened the trunk, and in that moment, I genuinely thought, 'Could there be a dead body or a hammer inside? We're done for.'

No, he brought out a large pile of birch leaves with branches and started negotiating with a passerby. With a puzzled look on my face, I looked at the man in the passenger seat, and he gestured with patting his body and taking a shower. In an instant, I understood, and my eyes lit up.

vihta

That's birch leaves vihta used for Sauna baths.

Vihta is rarely seen in May because it's not the season for it.

Seeing my eyes gleaming, the older brother gave me a knowing smile. It was that indescribable intuition. In any case, the hitchhiking trip went as I had thought, safe and sound.

Kp2 : 10points | PERLOJA

After successfully arriving, luck seemed to be on our side. We quickly hitched a ride after uploading our check-in picture. The next kind person took us in the direction of Dzukijos, and after driving for about 10 kilometers, they dropped us off by the interchange.

In Europe, rest areas are different from Taiwan. Most of them only have a small shop called Kiosk adjacent to the gas station. This shop provides all visible services, including paying for gas, using the restroom, and getting snacks. Everything can be taken care of at once. Having been on the road for a while, I naturally hadn't had lunch. My gaze was immediately drawn to a sign on the glass.

Hot dog, 1 euro.

Without thinking, I said to Mei, 'Hey, I'll go have a quick wee' After washing my hands, I patted my butt and immediately went to the counter to order a delicious-smelling hot dog. I thought everything was going smoothly, even feeling pleased with myself, thinking, 'Wow, it's so cheap and delicious!'

As I walked out of the gas station, I saw Mei with a look of disgust.

'I just turned down a kind auntie offering us a ride because I thought you would take forever in the restroom, and you went to buy a hot dog?'

Mei's face

As the saying goes, 'When it rains, it pours.' Fate always kicks you a few times when you feel like you're unlucky. Later on, despite the traffic on the interchange, we couldn't catch a single car even after waiting for almost 30 minutes. I felt a murderous aura and a chilling sensation from behind. I obediently spoke up, 'Um, how about... we walk and hitchhike to the nearest Kp15?'

I looked at the Google Maps that hadn't moved since the start of the race and couldn't be sure if it was my phone or the network acting up. In any case, Mei said, 'It's 5 kilometers away from here to Kp15. Can you do it?' 'Of course! When can't I?' I immediately replied, in fear.

Damn it, we walked for half an hour in the end!

MERKINE country museum | Kp15

Walking on the main road at noon in Lithuania was no joke; we were sweating profusely within minutes. Perhaps walking was too much trouble, but after completing Kp15, our hitchhiking luck finally revived. We successively caught rides with two or three kind and curious drivers. There was a cool couple smoking and speaking, 'Our son studied in Singapore before, and now he's hitchhiking in the USA!' 'The reason we stopped is simple. Our child received help from so many people, so whenever we have the chance, we should help others too.' There was also an uncle who seemed paralyzed, not uttering a word throughout the entire trip.

At 16:39, on the way to Prienai, we encountered the generous army pants guy.

The army pants guy and his super cool van.

The army pants guy was generous for several reasons, mainly because he spoke English. As soon as he learned that we were participating in a hitchhiking competition, he must have struck a chord because his tour guide spirit ignited instantly. He took us directly to the nearest checkpoint, Kp14, which was close to Prienai. Thanks to the enthusiastic explanations from the big brother, we learned that it was a monument to the Lithuanian currency, Litas, and the introduction of the euro.

After saying goodbye to the army pants guy happily, we were left in Prienai and stood by the roadside once again, returning to the endless loop of hitchhiking with our thumbs up. The time was now 17:48, and according to the rules, if we couldn't make it to our overnight destination in Raudone by 20:30, we would face the fate of deducting 10 points every 5 minutes.

To reach Raudone, we had to go to a city called Kaunas. We had to maintain the courage to keep our thumbs up. Throughout the day, I began to feel an immense power in hitchhiking. In this world, there is a group of people willing to stop, connected by the remaining kindness and trust in the world. How could I be afraid? How could I not be moved?

Three Lithuanian students stopped over by curiosity (told you it worked)

ZAPYŠKIS 16th century gothic church. | Kp8

At 18:58, after thanking the mother and son who took us to Kp8, I and Mei stood in place and checked the map. It was then that we realized the journey to Raudone was still 100 kilometers away. The two of us, on foot, hadn't covered many checkpoints today, and now we were facing the fate of deducting points. Mei was extremely frustrated, being left in the parking lot of Kp8. We asked around, but no one was going in the direction of Raudone. Prepared for a potential failure, I told her, 'It's okay; our goal is to participate, not to win.'

As I said that, a familiar sedan stopped beside us. It was the mother and son duo from earlier!

The son rolled down the car window and said, 'Get in the car!'

It was one of those rare unforgettable moments in life. They lived in Kaunas and went out of their way, taking a completely opposite route, just to drop us off at our destination.

Mei said this is the most laid-back hitchhiking way she ever seen

After spending the night in the castle, everyone cheered as we embarked on the second day of our hitchhiking journey (yes, the competition lasted for two days, lunatic I know). As I had a low contribution to each ride, I silently recorded from the backseat. I'm grateful for my dedication at that time, as now I can vividly recall the seemingly faded memories.

9:00, Lucas and his family started our second day of hitchhiking but soon ended up going the wrong way... 12:07, we were left at the A6 Ukmerge junction by the flower shop uncle... 12:49, the Hungarian exchange couple's daughter brought us to Kp3 Sveicarija, also known as the Little Switzerland of Lithuania. After completing the mission, we even went to their house to see their cat and had ice cream on the way... 14:28, the smoking couple remained silent as we reached Kp5 Utena.

ŠVEICARIJA (Switzerland) village. | Kp3

Free ice cream from driver

At 15:32, we met a blue-eyed dude who smoked and played super hardcore deadbeat rock in the car. The first thing he said was, 'I can't speak English.' Later, unable to resist, I introduced him to Taiwan's Chthonic and played 'Takasago Army' for him. Throughout the journey, we exchanged our song list, using simple phrases like 'this one is good' to express our appreciation for each other's music taste. From Lin Chiang 林強 to Oasis, The Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Mazzy Star, I realized that music is truly the most wonderful language in the world. He used to be a bassist when he was young and liked to drive with music blaring loudly, just like how Taiwanese punk kids modify their audio systems. On that sunny afternoon, as Oasis's 'Stand By Me' played along the way, I felt incredible.

Labanoras Regional Park observation tower | Kp36

Geographical centre of Europe | Kp4

I'm not sure if it was because he liked my song list so much or if he finally felt he had made some contribution towards the end of the competition. The incredibly cool dude took me and Mei to two consecutive checkpoints and even rushed us back to the finish line.

TV Tower Vilnius | Finish Line

At 18:30, we finally arrived at the finish line, Vilnius TV Tower, ending these two days that felt like an absurd dream. Mei suggested going to the nearby supermarket to use the restroom and celebrate with some ice cream, and she insisted on only buying black-colored ice cream.

Me：^_^ ?

Looking back at this hitchhiking experience, I am deeply grateful for Mei's invitation and my own spontaneous acceptance. Perhaps, in Taiwan, where I'm used to hitchhiking by extending my thumb anytime, I am not afraid of hitchhiking.

However, being in unfamiliar Lithuania for the first time, in Europe for the first time, if it weren't for Mei, I might not have had enough courage.

To this day, I still cannot forget the feeling of wholeheartedly entrusting my trust to a stranger I had never met before. I can say that it represents the best side of human nature: kindness, simplicity, and purity. It completely aligns with my expectations of myself before the competition. It's a life experience that I can proudly share with my friends! Imagine telling the future generations, 'Grandma once participated in hitchhiking races in Lithuania when she was young!' No matter how you think about it, it feels incredibly impressive. However, when it comes to the final ranking, let's just say, 'Oh well, as long as there's no last place!'

During the awards ceremony, there was actually someone who couldn't make it back to participate because they hitchhiked too far and ended up in Latvia. (Wtf were we even doing!)

Later, Mei put up the paper boards we wrote on the wall: 16 hitchhike rides. Thank you, Baltija100, for giving me one of the most unforgettable memories of my life.

Lithuania, you brought it to me.