We knew it was going to be tough to hitchhike in such a big group. To make clear the magnitude of the task at hand, I should add that even though I was in my full-length leather pimp coat, I was not the most menacing-looking among us. Even someone who'd be willing to stop for one bedraggled rocker would never take us all.

So we decided to try to catch a ride with a northbound trucker. Truckers had those big empty sleeper cabs and would surely love to have some company, right? Someone to talk to on that long and lonely stretch of I-5 that runs up through California's agricultural outback.

We approached several truck drivers and finally found one willing to give us a lift as far as Medford, Oregon, in exchange for our pooled cash. That was his end destination and for us it was 600 miles closer to our first out-of-town gig. It was a win for both parties: he would get $37 and we would be heading north at highway speeds.

It was obvious right from the start that this particular trucker was a speed freak, and that our $37 would be used to supplement his habit. He had probably already been up for a few days, and riding with him in that state in a huge semi truck was a risky endeavor. Fuck it. We were on a mission. Do or die, we were going to make it to Seattle.

I was hoping Kim would spread the word in Seattle that we had broken down and were on the road without a car. Maybe someone would be willing to come down to Portland to pick us up if we made it that far on our own. For now, we piled into the 18-wheeler, guitars and all. The other four guys climbed into the sleeper cab. It was tight. I rode shotgun in the passenger seat up front.

The guy couldn't believe our story.

"Let me get this straight," he said. "You guys are fucking hitchhiking to a gig -- a thousand miles away?"

"Yep," I said. "And you don't have any equipment -- or even any food?"

"Well, yeah, but our equipment . . ."

"I don't mean to sound like a prick, but, I mean, can't you play anywhere in Los Angeles?"

I tried to explain the swashbuckling magic of playing to strangers, in strange places, us-against-them, us-against-the-world . . . winning over listeners a few at a time.

He shrugged.

Come back tomorrow for Part 2 of G N' R's speed-addled maiden voyage.