Many years ago, I used to caddy at Longue Vue Country Club. It was an approximately 6-mile walk, in a straight line, around that golf course. As a young boy trying to make enough money to help his parents pay for food, schooling, and clothing, there were times when that 6 miles must have been at least doubled or even tripled.
To get from my home to the country club, I had to walk the equivalent of at least a mile just to get to the spot at the end of the trolley line where caddies from my neighborhood used to stand to thumb a ride. From that point to the golf course was probably another 6-mile jaunt.
Fortunately, many kind people would stop and ride caddies to the driveway of the golf course. Now some caddies had their own cars, mostly junkers. Some used their family car when it was available. But I do remember one older caddie whose name I've forgotten who used to own a small Crosley. I mean, when I saw him coming up Lincoln Avenue towards me, I'd stick out my thumb and stand far out in the street to make certain he saw me.
His Crosley must have had a back seat of some kind because when there were several of us hitchhiking, we would cram into that tiny automobile rather than hike 6 miles to the golf course.