Midlife Hitchiker?

 Who hitchhikes in midlife?

Well, if you accept that my definition—the one that shapes this blog—anyone who doesn’t know when their life will end and solicits a ride from a stranger is a midlife hitchhiker.

That said, I don’t expect to stand with my thumb out or hold a sign on a roadside. That has nothing to do with age. Or maybe it does: Some things I would have ventured simply don’t seem worth the risks—which may or may not be greater than they were.

I did hitch a couple of rides in my youth, but they weren’t part of my plans, such as they were. Once, a guy who looked like he had whisky and cigarettes for breakfast took me across a bridge where cyclists weren’t allowed and had no walkway. Another time, a fellow with a voice that could’ve leveled the nearby hills gave me a lift into town after I trashed my rear wheel. Both men took me and my bike in pickup trucks that looked like their drivers actually used them on their jobs.

Anyway, I have never taken a hitchhiking trip. I could make the excuse that I was born a few years too late to be a hippie. Or maybe I’m less adventurous than I may have led you to believe I am. 

You could say, perhaps, that I have taken hitchhikers with me, if unintentionally. I’ve found ladybugs—which I don’t see nearly as often as I once did—on my clothes, bags and helmet at the end of a ride. Also, butterflies have landed on me or my handlebars.  Did they want to take a rest ? Oh, and I’ve picked up a puppy and a kitten, which I brought to a police station.

I got to thinking about those “free rides” when I came across this article about another “hitchhiker.” Scientists in Costa Rica found a remora (also known of as a suckerfish) attached to the shell of an olive ridley sea turtle.

What astonished the scientists was not that the remora “hitchiked”: They attach themselves, not only to sea turtles, but also to rays, sharks and whales. But they normally remain on their host as long as it’s swimming because they need to have oxygen from the water flowing over their gills. The scientists, who were observing other aquatic and amphibious life, saw the turtle leave the water for 19 minutes: far longer than they would normally survive without their supply of oxygen.

I wondered where that remora was trying to go. In any event, I imagine it has no idea of when it will die. So, by my definition, it’s a midlife hitchhiker.

(Infrared photo by Megan Bullock for BBC. Remora is near the peak of the turtle’s shell.)