Costa Rica News – A few years ago, my friend Cody and I were driving between Prince George, a rough town in the middle of British Columbia, and Merritt. We had just worked a 28-day shift on a pipeline, and we were excited. Spring break up was in full swing, and most of the winter’s work was winding down. A little ways out of Prince, in a tiny shithole of a town called Hixon, we spotted a hitchhiker. He looked decent enough–clean clothes, clean shaven, no obvious signs of a mental illness that would leave us beheaded in a ditch–so we decided to pick him up. He had nothing with him except for a cardboard box, about two feet wide and two feet high.
He was a