On a September night in the middle of South Dakota, mechanical engineering senior Cadan Crowley found himself in the back of a pickup truck. The wind was the only thing he could hear — and feel, frigidly — as he sped 85 miles per hour down the I-90 as an unusual and desperate passenger.
Approximately five hours later, across the state of South Dakota, Crowley finally arrived to set up camp at a Walmart parking lot in Sioux Falls, relieved to end his sixth day on his road to New York City. With an orange backpack measuring half his size, a small array of personal belongings and a flimsy piece of cardboard, Crowley set out to complete his mission of proving the goodness of strangers in the way he knew would be the most human and authentic way.
From Sept. 3 to 14, 2025, Crowley hitchhiked across the United States, receiving rides that took him through Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania and, finally, New York.
Less than a week before, Crowley’s father, Grant Crowley, dropped off his “soul child” at a bus stop in their hometown of Portland, Oregon — a send-off to a journey that would inevitably test his son’s safety.
“I definitely took one long look at him,” his father said. “I was like ‘Wow, I hope all goes well.’”
Crowley started to view social media as a vessel for “hating” people without knowing them. This frustration moved him beyond the screen, inspiring his journey driven by the need to prove to himself that good people are everywhere.
“I just wanted to get my own perspective on what people are like around the country,” he said.
Crowley has always enjoyed talking to strangers; a social butterfly in school and sports, and quite chatty with the people he rode up the ski chairlift with, even if it was just a short five minutes. Grant, Crowley’s father, said he and Crowley’s mother picked the name “Cadan” because it means spirited in Irish.
Crowley slept in his tent in parks and behind businesses and “balled out” on food as his gas-free trip left him with more spending freedom for food.
“I’d ask whoever picked me up, ‘What’s the best restaurant in town?’” he said. “I’d go spend 20 bucks on a fat burger or whatever.”
The hitchhiker’s biggest obstacle was not what happened on the journey itself, despite riding for long hours in the back of someone’s truck and being accused of stealing another driver’s wallet. Prior to the trip, he booked a one-way flight from New York City back home to Portland.
Some days, he didn’t travel many miles. With a hard end date and a flight to catch, he got nervous knowing he had to make up for lost time.
“It was a little demoralizing on those days, I was like, ‘Man, now tomorrow I have to go 600 miles,’” Crowley said. “It’s kind of tough.”
Knowing that he could take the bus at any time to reach his final destination, Crowley was loyal to his original plan, one that led him to things like getting tours of the hometowns of the temporary companionships he made along the way. He hardly felt scared or unsafe, something he believed was a result of natural human decency.
“You can’t get lucky that many times in a row,” Crowley said about the 24 rides he received. He wasn’t short on optimism, leading him to believe that nothing bad would happen to him throughout the journey.
While Crowley was the one seeking out connections from others, some of the people who drove him also found a meaningful experience by choosing to pick up a random college student on the side of the road. Crowley’s “favorite person” was a man who picked him up on a Friday afternoon in Wyoming.
They listened to hours of rock music together, mainly Creed. The man ended up taking Crowley about 100 miles, which he revealed to the hitchhiker about two hours into the ride, that they were driving in the opposite direction from his home.
“It reinforced the idea that people are good wherever you go,” Crowley said. “You can find good people and people are way more selfless than you think.”
Crowley claims the most understanding people to pick him up were workers, who demonstrated the act of giving anyone a ride as normal. Though he believed all of his ride experiences to be positive, Crowley said his last one before hopping on a train from Pennsylvania to NYC for the last 300 miles was the “coldest.” An older couple in a “fancy Jeep” with piles of Louis Vuitton bags in their trunk hesitantly gave the hitchhiker a ride, a mainly silent one until the woman asked him what he’s studying in school.
“I said engineering and she warmed up to me,” Crowley said. “It pissed me off because I’m like, ‘Okay, now you care because I have status or whatever.’ I think it’s a tell of society a little bit.”
‘Of course he’s doing this’
Back home, Crowley’s parents had a natural tendency to be concerned. However, their trust in their son outgrew doubt and fostered unconditional support.
“I just kind of trusted that he would find his way through and that he would connect with positive people,” his father said.
Although she shared the same reassurance, Crowley’s mother, Katie Kennedy, said she kept herself busy to distract herself throughout the day with work and daily tasks from thinking about what could go wrong on her son’s journey. But setting the routine aside, she understood this was a process she had to trust by expressing unconditional love and support for Crowley.
“I had a couple people for sure who I think were questioning me and my parenting, but I think in general the people who knew Crowley and knew us were like, ‘Of course he’s doing this,’” she said.
Growing up, Crowley said he always thought hitchhiking was “cool,” admiring the people on a journey that would eventually inspire his own.
“I would see people on the side of the road doing this every now and then and I’d be like ‘Mom, let’s pick them up!” he said.
“I might pick up a hitchhiker now, too,” Kennedy said, jokingly.
To keep in touch with the friends, family and skeptics back home, Crowley created an Instagram account which he regularly updated, documenting his journey.
“It felt like I had a community with me,” he said.
During his 12 days of hitchhiking, Crowley didn’t find a profound new meaning of life or believe his trip to be the most interesting thing he’s accomplished. This way of living of simply just “doing” allowed him to explore the country and what it had to offer — an awaiting connection, companionship, or act of kindness that came from simply putting himself out there.
“I think being uncomfortable is a totally unexplored emotion for people,” Crowley said. “People should just go for stuff and do whatever they want to do, not worry about it too much.”