Is the time of the “thumb” (really) over?

The “thumbs” are less and less numerous on the roads. However, it is an excellent way to reduce the number of cars in circulation and a great way to make chance and human encounters. Portrait of people who hitchhiked yesterday… and today.

Emilie Cote
The Press

A career thanks to the thumb

“I made some as a sacrifice, thumbs up! launches Mario Corneau. There are young people who don’t even know it exists. »

The 66-year-old even owes his career in mineralogy to hitchhiking. “Picking up rocks on the go, I ended up giving science workshops without having finished my studies. It’s great, when you think about it. »

Born in Jonquière, Mario Corneau had the appeal of the open sea as a teenager. “I left my parents at a young age,” he says. I was 15 years old. I took the bus to Montreal. »

When he arrived in the metropolis, he felt dizzy. So much so that he did not leave the terminus. When he saw “Granby” on a bus, he asked an employee if the city was about as big as Chicoutimi, and the answer convinced him to continue on Highway 10.

During the trip, Mario met a man who was going to work for Poultry Processing in Saint-Jean-Baptiste-de-Rouville. Mario was also engaged there.

Then, Mario Corneau traveled almost all of Quebec raising his thumbs up on the sidelines of the roads. From Gaspésie to Sept-Îles via La Tuque and Lac-Saint-Jean. “Discussing, meeting new people, I liked that. But above all the unexpected. »

One of his most memorable encounters? “With a priest. I really liked talking about philosophy with him. I also remember being taken in a Corvette. »

One day, Mario noticed that every town had pretty much the same gift shop “with the same toys”. Only the names of the cities were changed. “I started picking up rocks on which I wrote with a felt-tip pen the names of the towns they came from. »

In the meantime, he got his hands on a book called rocks and minerals. “It pissed me off. It completely changed my life. »

This is how Mario Corneau’s interest in mineralogy developed, and how he made a career out of it. He started visiting mines. “I had 2700 minerals just in my living room,” he says.

In 2002, he even bequeathed part of his collection to the University of Quebec at Chicoutimi, where the small mineralogical museum of UQAC was born.

Then, Mario Corneau chaired various mineralogy clubs and worked for the Minéro museum in Thetford Mines. He still gives workshops in schools on occasion. Former students also wrote to him to tell him that they had become geologists, including a young woman who allowed him to visit a mine in Schefferville.

“All because I started picking up stones on the go,” he repeats.

Mario Corneau, who has also picked up many people hitchhiking as a driver, is sorry that this practice practically no longer exists in Quebec. “Hitchhiking is generosity and exchanges,” he argues.

It’s also a lot of unknown, a dimension that is less and less part of our lives.

Hitchhiking across Canada

Jimmy Chabot hitchhiked across Canada in 2018… with no money or phone. And with French-speaking drivers as far as possible! “I left Drummondville to the Arctic Ocean and came back,” he says.

Its goal ? “To bear witness to the presence of Francophones from coast to coast. »

At the time, Jimmy Chabot was a YouTuber. Before this journey, he had only hitchhiked once in France.

“I wanted to go live with the locals and meet the other,” he says.

Jimmy Chabot left on the 1^er July 2018 and he returned on September 11 to Drummondville thanks to a trucker from Taiwan.

A total of 128 people boarded him in their car or truck, of which around 20% were women. He traveled 16,400 kilometers and waited to be picked up for 74 hours.

“I left Drummondville in the middle of a heat wave and I didn’t know how to hitchhike at all,” he says. I left for Wickham, a small village. People had heard about my project and gave me $20 […] I ended up going to Bromont. »

Jimmy Chabot had certain acquaintances across the country with whom he could sleep or who could give him contacts.

“A trucker has become the father of the crossing. He’s my good samaritan. His name is Francois Lessard. »

He drove Jimmy Chabot from Kapuskasing (in northern Ontario) to Thunder Bay. “On his credit card, he has stalled : we are looking for a French speaker to drive my friend to Winnipeg. »

Then Jimmy Chabot hit the road again with François Lessard, who was traveling from Winnipeg to Alaska. “He dropped me off in Whitehorse, Yukon. He’s my superhero. »

He still keeps in touch with him.

“Acts of kindness”

Jimmy Chabot has had one bad experience with someone talking to him about awkward sex. But he especially remembers “human encounters” and people who told him about parts of their lives as if he were a confidant or a psychologist. “We’re a little invisible today with our cell phones, but it’s important to connect with other people,” he says.

Some people who took him on board are even still part of his life. “I talk about them as my close guard. »

At places like the Dempster gravel highway near Dawson City, a car passes every 90 minutes.

He remembers a family in Alaska who offered to sleep in their car while she slept in a tent. Several such gestures have been made. “People are happy to drive 100 km further than expected and turn around,” he adds. It’s really beautiful, I think. »

Jimmy Chabot now works as a journalist in northern Ontario. His great interest in the French-speaking world was born when he started out in the profession when everyone told him to “go and blow up your face in the regions”. “I started my career in Kapuskasing and did radio in Winnipeg. »

He saw how much people took French to heart across the country.

From the Alps to Chile

“My mother had told me how in the past, in Bas-du-Fleuve, she traveled between Saint-Pascal and Rimouski on the go. And I remember, when I was young, that at the Jacques-Cartier national park campground, we took young people on board who had kayaked and I found that so cool “recalls Marie-Chloé Duval.

The painter – who lives in Montreal and is originally from Saint-Pascal, in Kamouraska – has done it, thumb. Especially abroad.

His very first time was in the Alps. “I crossed the border between France and Switzerland. »

After a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in criminology, she took a break to devote herself fully to her art, but also to hitchhike through Argentina and Chile. “I went down to Patagonia. »

“I met a lot of people and took quite a few means of transport that one can imagine”, launches Marie-Chloé Duval.

In Chile, she was traveling with others when a couple who took them on board offered them to sleep at home.

In Morocco, she and her companions were scared when the man driving them suddenly stopped his car and another vehicle pulled up behind. The man said to him: “My friend is going to Marrakech. “I was scared, but it was just two people who wanted to help people. »

In Quebec, Marie-Chloé Duval also often carpooled from Montreal to Saint-Pascal. Her father made them with colleagues when she was little. She is a big believer in what is called the sharing economy.

Marie-Chloé Duval has done a lot of couchsurfing — as a host and as a guest — and she was a member of the Warmshowers community, which allows cyclists to take hot showers. “If I can help someone in my apartment, why not?” »

“Why does each house have its own mower? I’ve always found this way of working strange. »

She cites the example of the Facebook group Le Comité social, which allows people from Kamouraska to exchange services. “I have often asked people to transport works to Montreal. »

She is sorry that she no longer sees people hitchhiking. Dangerous ? “There is danger everywhere,” she replies. I have judgment and I listen to myself. If I don’t feel it, I don’t do it. But I refuse to live in a world where everyone is afraid, and that has served me well so far. »

“These are beautiful human encounters,” she insists.

It is also at the heart of his approach as a painter: how a chance encounter can change the course of our existence.