Hobos, Tramps and Homeless Bums

[KaBar]

Can't Please Everybody

 

Well, I do run way too long on my posts. It's like a personal shortcoming, I guess. I know that not everybody wants to hear what I want to say, so I try to keep my opinions out of posts about straight graffitti action. This isn't the only place I post stuff about trains. I have gotten booted off of the train-hopper list serve (at train-hopper@nw.com) because I posted a flame about some liberal female journalist who wanted to write about hopping after riding about three trains. It was my own fault, I was drinking paisano and lemon juice and got a little carried away. But, boy, you'd think all those adventuresome, liberal, yuppie wanks over at Train-hoppers would have a little more tolerance for a out-of-the-mainstream opinion. Huh. I guess not.

One of the best receptions I ever got is on a survivalist-militia-patriot board. You'd think they'd be pretty uptight, but they liked the train-hopper stuff real well. I was glad it got accepted. People were posting questions like "How would you conceal an AR-15?" Amazing. BTW, the address for the railroad operations manual is http://www.ntl.bts.gov/DOCS/rmo.html

[Smart]

more power to ya

 

well, I like what you have to say, and you start your own threads to fill with what I consider usefull and interesting, so you're welcome here... also, around here, a well reasoned flame, no matter how drunk the author is still considered valid, we just ask that you concede the points you miss... and as far as drunken rambling, well, I certainly would be a hypocrite if I didn't say that I look upon it with a knowing and wistful eye...

 

actually though, this is just sober rambling, I only had 2 beers at work and I'm finally home, ahhh...

[KaBar]

Hammocks

 

I lurk on a lot of these threads that are directly related to graff, but seeing as how I'm much more an appreciator of graffitti and graff writers, rather than a writer of any great experience or talent, I try to keep my mouth shut. Hard to believe, I know.

I wanted to write about hammocks. They are really, really fuckin' GREAT. I tramped for years without a hammock, and I got used to sleeping on the ground. There's ways to make it less uncomfortable. For one, I always scooped out a "pit" for my shoulders and my hips, and covered my bed site with several layers of cardboard. Years later, I got with the program and started carrying a closed-cell foam camping ground mat. That improved things a lot. I always used a military mummy bag. Take my word for it, there are better sleeping bags. I always used a cheap-ass bag though. If you have a girlfriend, buy TWO BAGS THAT ZIP TOGETHER. Sleeping solo with a girlfriend definately sucks bigtime.

Once I bought a hammock, I was hooked. Man, you talk about a serious lifestyle change! Sleeping in a hammock takes a lot of the pain and hassle out of tramping. Of course, you do need appropriate trees, but here on the Gulf Coast of Texas, we got trees aplenty. (We also got mosquitoes OUT THE ASS, so if you come down here, BRING A MOSQUITO NET, and I'm not joking.) I carry nylon strap tubing to use as hammock points on trees that lack a branch at the right height. I picked up a tip from other tramps--drive two or three 16d nails into the tree at the right height (sitting astride the hammock, your feet should touch the ground) and rig nylon tubing around the tree and stopping on the nails. The nails keep the nylon tubing from sliding down the tree. My hammock is called a "double" hammock (as if two people could sleep in it) but that just means "big enough to be right." Don't buy a hammock with spreader bars. They are a serious pain in the butt to pack around. I just roll my hammock up and stow it in a plastic sack in my ruck. I paid about $10 for my hammock, but you can find them at all prices. Or if you were a really serious tramp, you'd make your own equipment, including your own hammock.

[Smart]

where I come from you can't sleep on the ground, we had hammocks of several sorts in different places around our house all my life basically, I wholeheartedly agree, they rock... and those military mummies, oh god, I used to sleep in one of the korean era down feather models, freakin dust trap, the dirtiest... I actually know several sailor ways to make a 'hammok' out of planks and rope, or just rope...

[KaBar]

Water Source

 

When I was a kid (1958), I never realized that the big attraction for the tramps at T & NO Junction in Houston was the water faucet behind the Fed-Mart store. There was a liquor store down a ways at the Palm Center on Griggs, and I always figured that the reason the jungle was there at T & NO Junction was the liquor store. Foolish kid!

The junction itself was in poor condition back then. The rails were beat and I can recall seeing "overflow" shards hanging off the rails in the curve of the wye. Because the wye was in shitty condition, trains went around the curves very slowly, probably at walking speed or no more than 5 or 10 mph. This made getting on or off trains a cinch. I can only recall a tramp getting off a train there once. It was in the late afternoon. He waited for his boxcar to clear the switches, then, sitting in the boxcar door, jumped down and hit the ground at a brisk walk for a few paces. He had a bindle, but no pack. He looked around, and headed straight for the jungle. A regular, had to be.

The water faucet provided the tramps with drinking water, and late at night, a place to take a bath. They would strip down to their underwear and bathe out of a bucket, back behind the Fed-Mart. They would carry clean water from the faucet to the jungle in a 5-gallon bucket to use as dishwashing water.

A source of nearby (or relatively nearby) water is essential to any serious jungle. If it is a "dry" jungle, it won't last for long.If people must travel a long way to look for water, they'd rather move the jungle itself.

[KaBar]

Tramping in Houston

 

The other day I ran into three guys and a young woman, all in their twenties I think, at Englewood Yards in Houston. Englewood is a big place, several miles long, and it sees a lot of tramps and trainhoppers. It's the biggest yard in town. Second biggest is probably Settegast Yards, and then Congress Yards, I guess. Englewood is a major point of origin for trains headed east to New Orleans. These trainhoppers were headed to the Big Easy and they looked pretty beat. The weather is still almost like summer down here, in the 80's, and they looked like they were hot, dirty and skeeter-bit. I was impressed with their gear, though. Despite the fact that they looked a little road weary, every one of their crew (the girl, too) was wearing outdoor work boots, blue jeans or camouflage trousers, had a good coat or a field jacket, gloves and a hat, and they were all four carrying good rucks. The girl and two of the guys had military surplus medium ALICE packs with no frame, the third guy was carrying a dark-colored mountain rucksack. They were not carrying bindles, however. I wonder what they were using to sleep in? Maybe sleeping bags that can be "stuffed" into a much smaller bag. I met them on the east end of Englewood, trying to figure out which track led to New Orleans. They had no map, and I didn't notice any water containers except for a military canteen on one guy's pack. I dug out my maps and showed them which track led to New Orleans, and then they saddled up and started trudging east down Liberty Road. It kind of reminded me of a group of soldiers or Marines. They had that same sort of I-am-so-fucking-tired-I-could-fall-asleep-right-here look. I noticed that when we were talking the men always kept themselves between me and the girl. It sort of amused me (I'm no threat) , but it was tactically sound. When they decided they wanted to talk to me, everybody grounded their gear, and they sent one guy over to talk. Once it was clear that I was okay, the rest came over. What they really needed was a shower, a meal, and a decent night's sleep. Trainhopping ain't for the faint of heart, I guess.

[KaBar]

Good Boots

 

There are as many different opinions about what constitutes "good" boots as there are people who have a need for them. Everybody is different, and what suits me may not suit somebody else. But, I have a studied opinion about boots, having been tramping and living on the bum, and been a Marine Corps infantryman, and an industrial worker for years (I was once a shipyard welder.)

I believe in stout boots. I don't think these lightweight boots that are sort of like rough-out leather tennis shoes are up to a railyard environment. When I was tramping in my teens and early twenties I wore "hunting boots" that had a square edge around the top of the foot that was stitched--they looked kind of like old-time Boy Scout boots. They were comfortable but provided very poor protection to your foot, and had what I call a "pussy heel." The sole of the boot was a molded, cream-colored rubber of some kind, and the heel was not sharp and defined, but had a sort of ramp effect with a ripple or waffle sole, similar to a modern tennis shoe. THEY SLIP on wet rocks or on wet steel railcar ladder rungs.

In the Marines, I wore military issue leather combat boots, of course. They are really a good compromise between the heavy, steel-toed industrial boots, and the light-weight hiking boots. They used to be cheap, but are pretty expensive these days. I paid $65 for the last pair of combat boots I bought. Their one great asset is DURABILITY. Boy, they are tough boots. Choose a good mil-spec boot, with either a Panama sole (for jungle mud) or the standard military tread sole. For the rainy, humid South, the jungle boots are okay, but don't buy the cheap $19 Korean-made jungle boots. They don't fit well and are a WASTE OF MONEY.

Last of all is the steel-toed industrial safety boots. I always bought Red Wing boots. They will continue to re-sole them until the boots just fall to pieces. I have a pair of beat-up, slag-pocked, steel-toed Red Wing boots that I have had re-soled three or four times at the Red Wing factory. I bought them in 1984. They are HEAVY. But they are TOUGH. Those steel toes saved my feet many a time. When you are buying boots you get what you pay for. No reason to spend $150 on steel-toed boots if you will never wear them, But kicking around rail yards in tennis shoes is a bad idea--it's just a matter of time till you injure a foot.

[Fox Mulder]

Kabar, when sleeping on the ground do you ever worry about animals? Snakes(would be attracted by heat) and bears/coyotes(being attracked by the smell of food)?

[KaBar]

Worrisome Wildlife

 

Fox Mulder---I have spent a lot of time sleeping outdoors in all parts of the country, and the only animals brave enough to actually come up into camp with us were raccoons. Raccoons are extremely intelligent, and they can open containers and will boldly rattle around in your cook gear, trying to get into leftovers or into your garbage. Even raccoons would not approach us if the fire was still burning. I did wake up once in the middle of a herd of cows. Cattle are not the slightest bit intimidated by sleeping trainhoppers in sleeping bags.

That business about snakes being attracted to warmth sounds kind of like a sea story--I've been hearing that old saw about the BoyScout/young Marine/yuppie trainhopper who woke up with a rattlesnake in his sleeping bag for about forty years. Maybe it has actually happened (anything is possible) but I doubt it.

Once when I was in 29 Palms on a live-fire training exercise (called a Fire-X) in the Marines, we were in what is called an administrative stand-down, where we were allowed to build fires, cook chow and drink a couple of beers. There were two platoons of us at several fires (about eighty guys.) One of the kids (most Marines are about 17 or 18 years old--I was 26) went out into the dark, away from the fire to take a piss, and suddenly we heard this anguished scream "SNAAAKE!" To a man, every guy at our fire whipped out a bayonet or a (here's my namesake) Ka-Bar knife and rushed into the dark with a resounding 'HOO-rah!" Ten minutes later we were all barbecueing rattlesnake, seasoned with Louisiana hot sauce. That sucker was huge, at least four feet long, and big around as my forearm in the middle, but he was no match for twenty Marines. They attacked him as a group with knives. It was awesome--no fear whatsoever, they just went for it. It was a miracle nobody but the snake got stabbed.

I've seen deer and a few elk cows or calves when I was camping up north, but no predators, like a bobcat or a cougar. Dogs can be a problem. The last dog attack I had, I knocked his ass cold with my deadman. I would have killed him, but he was wearing a collar and tags--probably some kid's pet.

Lots of trainhoppers travel with a small dog, maybe twenty-five pounds. They make good watch dogs for the camp while you're asleep. I used to tie my dog's leash to my pack--he would defend it just like a house dog defends your back yard. Very few wild animals will approach human beings, and virtually none will approach a camp with a dog. I've never seen a bear except in Yellowstone National Park and zoos. If I did, I'd probably shit myself--they are extremely fast. You cannot outrun a bear.

[ASER1NE]

HOLY SHIT KABAR YOU GOT HELLA GOOD IDEAS/POINTS , YOU SHOULD WRITE A BOOK OR SOMETHINGS THANX FOR THE INFO...

[podrido]

damn pretty informative thread man

good looking out

u dont come around this kinda shit much often

[BIG T]

I started reading the thread but god damn my man you can go on for ever... maybe if i find myself stuck in bed for a week or so i'll give it another shot, you got good shit to say but take to damn long to say it... or maybe i need to get one of thoses books on how to speed read?

[KaBar]

Big T--Sorry 'bout that. Refer to "Can't Please Everybody." It's here somewhere, LOL.

[BIG T]

not a problem... im printing all the pages out and then i read them next time i find myself stuck with nothing to look at while benching... it is good shit your typing though...

[Fox Mulder]

yea for real don't shorten your shit. i have nothing to do all afternoon so i enjoy reading it.

[kaesthebluntedwonder]

it's like each post is a chapter of a book

[KaBar]

Aw, come on, guys! I'm long-winded, but they're not that long, LOL. I guess I oughta pace myself. I figure I've got enough obscure knowledge for about a week and then I won't have shit to say!

[TED NUGENT]

hey kabar i have been reading this board for a couple years now and i have yet to fall upon anything as thought provokeing as this..your post read like a good novel.each one provides me with a glimpse of a great world that most of us will never be able to live in. everything you have had to say has been well worth my time and im sure others.keep the information comming and how bout some personal stories from your train riding days im sure you have some good ones....

 

keep the posts coming

[HeckleR]

i just wanted to say, those cask wine bags are called goon bags! as in "go get us a gooney, love". you drink them in your local park, pass out, wake up, blow them up and use them as pillows. good teenage fun. anyway...

[KaBar]

The Best of the Best, and the Worst of the Worst

 

I've always been a wanderer. I got whupped by my parents for trying to run away from home when I was only about seven. I had gotten a little pack, Scout mess kit and canteen, and I decided I'd take off and try living on my own for a while. Some neighbor spotted me headed for the brush and my Dad caught me before I got very far from our block.

I got popped in Abilene, Texas when I was 13, trying to run away from my uncle's house. That time I almost made it out of town. I had made the mistake of trying to say goodbye to a girl I had a crush on (she was a cousin "on the other side of the family" of my own cousin.) Anyway, I got a trip to jail, and my poor uncle came flying down there with his comb-over all flopping down, dressed in his pajama shirt and a pair of slacks. Lord, was I glad to see him. I was fighting back tears, and he got pretty mad when he saw that the cop had hand-cuffed me to the ready bench. I guess the cop figured I was a flight risk.

My first trainhop was to Galveston. A couple of other boys my age had done it before. We lived pretty close to Mykawa Road in Houston, which is right on the line leaving out of New South Yards to Galveston. We went down on our bicycles several nights in a row, watching trains and "double-dog-daring" one another to get on one. Finally, a train stopped and we got on a boxcar, and it rolled down to Galveston in about two hours. We got off, and about ten minutes later another slow boat to China came by, rolling north very slowly. We got right back on and rode back home, getting off about a block from our bicycles in the weeds along Mykawa Road.

I don't consider that a "real" hop though. We didn't intend to stay gone long, we didn't take any equipment or supplies. It was a joyride.

My first "real" hop was after I had been hitch-hiking and bumming around for quite a while. I knew some guys in Chicago and we started talking about going to California. They suggested jumping a freight, because hitching in Chicago wasn't the greatest. Again, I didn't know that much about it. They knew where the rail yards were, so off we went. When we got down to the yards, we just asked a switchman what train was going west. He pointed to a train, we got on a boxcar and about an hour later, she aired up and started rolling. It turned out that our train was headed to St. Paul, MN, and it was a consist of "bad order" cars. Our rbox had a flat wheel, and it bam-bam-bammed us all the way to St. Paul. There, they started humping our train to break it up and sent it's cars to different places. Our rbox was headed to the RIP track (repair, inspect, paint) so we started looking around and found another friendly yard hand, who directed us to the only train headed west--to Butte, MT. This train turned out to be a low-priority train shuttling boxcars back west. It stopped every few hundred miles, much to our frustration, and let every other train in the world go past. In one of our many trips "into the hole" we met Rufe. I took a real shine to Rufe, and I was fascinated by his knowledge of tramping. I knew about gunboats and so on, but Rufe had a vast stock of knowledge about railroad operations, etc. that I couldn't get enough of. When we got to Butte, I bid goodbye to my friends from Chicago, and took off with Rufe. Lucky for me, he was an okay guy. He didn't talk much about his personal life, but I found out he had left his wife after a big argument, and just walked out of his mobile home, left his welding truck and all his tools and equipment sitting in the driveway, walked across a field and caught a train on the fly. He didn't even have a blanket. I was amazed. He had been on the bum about ten years when I met him, in 1970. By then, of course, he had some gear, LOL.

[KaBar]

"Keeping a Clean Camp"

 

I was looking over some of these posts again, and I got to thinking about the meaning of the phrase "Keep A Clean Camp". Obviously, it means to not throw trash and garbage on the ground. This sort of rule is far from generally recognized and accepted. There are plenty of people tramping and riding trains that have a very nearly completely unconcious attitude about how they live their lives. They just stumble through it, drinking, taking various kinds of drugs and spreading chaos and discontent wherever they wind up. These are the kinds of people who take a dump in boxcars. They not only don't care that some minimum-wage warehouseman is going to have to clean up their nasty mess, they actually get a sort of sick satisfaction at knowing that this is true. They have a "I don't give a fuck" attitude about everything, and everybody. They are not connected to the rest of the world. Like very small children, they have the idea that the only thing that matters is whatever their spoiled little heart desires at that particular moment.

These are the people that go dumpster-diving and THROW ALL THE GARBAGE ON THE GROUND AND LEAVE IT THERE. What do you suppose happens when the store owner or restaurant owner comes out there and sees garbage all over the place? He starts hating tramps, and he LOCKS THE DUMPSTER. These are the guys who go into a restaurant, ask to use the bathroom, and then make a huge fucking mess in there, taking a bath in the sink, splashing water all over everywhere, stinking the place up, and THEN LEAVE THE BATHROOM ALL FUCKED UP. Obviously, as soon as the manager sees this disaster, he says "No more bathroom use for transients. Let them do it outdoors."

"Keeping a clean camp" means more than just "don't throw trash on the ground." It means living your life in a way calculated to have dignity and respect. It means to grant these things to others, and to firmly, but politely, insist upon them for yourself. A crude, simplistic way of looking at this is the phrase "Don't shit where you eat." What that means is don't do things to gratify an immediate need that will screw you up in the future. But the DSWYE (pronounced "diss-wye") philosophy is strictly a self-serving, pragmatic measure. Keeping a clean camp encompasses an understanding that one has a moral obligation to live life in a certain way. All behavior is not equal. Just doing whatever is not okay. Life has rules, even for tramps and hobos.

I have, on occasion, found myself out of money and hungry. It was rare, but it happened a few times. I went to a restaurant, asked to speak to the owner or manager, and waited politely in the entranceway. When the man came out, I asked him for a meal, and offered to sweep the parking lot or wash dishes in return. I got turned down several times, but I also got hired, right on the spot, as a dishwasher. It was no great shakes as a job (washing dishes in a truck stop in Wyoming is not exactly a career path I'd willingly choose) but it had more dignity than begging. The restaurant owner realized that I was trying to do the right thing, and he didn't disrespect me by just offering me a hamburger to "go away." I washed dishes, and got more food in return than I could possibly eat, plus a few bucks travelling money. But more than that, I still had my self respect. When you don't have your self-respect, you don't have anything, even if you are a millionaire.

Keeping a clean camp includes keeping yourself squared away, as well. The filthy, stinking homeless wretches that one sees living under bridges or sleeping in dirt-encrusted rags on downtown streets are usually untreated schizophrenics. I'm talking about tramping with a little class. I always owned enough garments so that I could wash one set while wearing another. You can still do this, even if you don't have money for the laundomat. I carried a wooden-handled scrub brush (like one might scrub floors with) and would buy a small packet of laundry detergent at a Laundomat. Fill a plastic 5-gallon bucket with water, then add some detergent and immerse the over-alls or blue jeans in there, then scrub them on a clean piece of sidewalk or a flatbed deck, then rinse them under a faucet. I would wear clean, wet, over-alls and unlaced boots while I scrubbed the rest of my clothes, rinsed them under a faucet. One time I washed clothes at a car wash, just using the high-pressure hose to blast them. Only cost 50 cents.

I got haircuts at barber colleges. Once or twice, I met another tramp (or a tramp's old lady) who knew how to cut hair. I took a spit bath out of a bucket or in a gas station bathroom sink every day. Just because you aren't rich doesn't mean that you should go around with ragged clothes. I know how to sew well enough to do my own repairs. I kept my clothes in good order, no rips, no tears, no holes worn through.

And, in camp, I observed the normal, common-sense rules about fires. I cut my tripod sticks about four feet long (I eyeball the first stick, then use it to measure the other two) and I CLEAR A SPARK RADIUS AROUND THE FIRE RING THE LENGTH OF THE STICK. I clear the ground down to the dirt the length of the stick in every direction. I usually do it by laying the stick down and scuffing the leaves and trash away from the fire with my boots in a circle, but I pull up little weeds and branches if I can't scuff them, and use my saw if I can't pull them up. If I can find rocks, I build a fire ring. If I can't find rocks, I try to scoop out a hole or depression. (I am very careful about fire---if you accidentally set the woods on fire, you will be in DEEP SHIT, not to mention that the animals that live in the forest will be displaced or killed.)

I never heed the call of nature where I am camping. If I wake up and need to piss, I don't do it there. I put on my boots and walk a ways off into the trees. I dig a little cat-hole a good distance from camp, to shit in, and cover my business. ("Don't shit where you eat.")

I like creating jungles, in fact, it is one of my very favorite things in life. I enjoy all the various aspects of it--finding a good location, clearing a little living area, building a fire ring, setting up a tripod, finding another suitable can for a gunboat and making it. Once I get it all set up, and I'm enjoying living in it, I feel that same sense of satisfaction one gets from moving in to a new apartment.

I stockpile wood for fires. I wash out 1-gallon wine jugs or 2-liter Coke bottles and fill them with water. I scrounge 5-gallon paint buckets for seats. I look for good "hammock trees." I gather cardboard and fold it so I can roll it up and put it in a 5-gallon bucket, then turn the bucket upside down so that the cardboard will stay dry if it rains. I scrounge newspapers, roll them into tight tubes and tie them with string, and put them under 5-gallon buckets, too. I dumpster-dive for useful stuff. I have found chairs and end-tables and footstools. Sometimes I find big sheets of plastic that I can make a "tent" with.

And when I leave the jungle, I mark it on my map and in my memory so I can find it again. I leave it clean and squared away. I burn all my trash, then I make sure my fire is out--"Dead Out." I leave the tripod in a bush close by the fire ring. I fill the jugs with water. I sometimes leave a note or a little change for the next guy. I keep a Clean Camp. I think everybody ought to. Doing so has dignity, and respect.

[Cracked Ass]

The "clean camp" mentality and penalties for not keeping one are strikingly similar to the philosophy I have for keeping painting spots chill. The basic reasoning is, what can we do to avoid pissing people off and/or attracting attention to the spot?

There are easy, common sense rules, and then some more subtle stuff. I've outlined this before but I'm game to rehash it all because it can't be stressed enough.

The obvious stuff: don't leave empty paint cans behind (even if the workers don't trip on them, while engaged in an already dangerous enough job, they'll instantly know it's a painting spot). Don't hit the walls or signal or electrical boxes, or storage trailers or other STATIONARY RR property right where trains park, that's another giveaway and seems more disrespectful than just hitting the trains. Clean up paint that gushed or dripped onto the rocks - just take the handfuls of colored ballast and bury them out of sight. Don't paint over the reporting marks, load limits, hazmat info, or black box containing lubrication information. That doesn't necessarily give the spot away - but if something else does, the workers will be less likely to take action (like reporting the painting job to RR police) if it's plain that you avoided the numbers on purpose. Another respect issue. But it's also a cost issue for the railroads, because they need that info displayed on every car by federal law, and it will be restamped at the earliest convenience of the car handlers. (I'm also still amazed at the number of heads who won't even avoid the numbers for self-serving reasons: your piece will run longer, maybe by many years, so why not dodge them even if you don't give a shit about anyone else?) Don't bomb whole lines or paint the same shit on several cars in a row, all it takes is one observant worker who knows that lines get broken up and reshuffled too often for the same artist to be up on every car, unless it was all done right there.

There are also some subtle things you can do if you really want to keep a spot chill to a high degree. Those wooden boards covered with staples (that everyone hates to paint) sometimes bear paper signs, most commonly "unload this side" or "unload other side". They were probably attached when the car was last loaded, i.e. very recently, so if you get paint on them an alert worker will know that the car was painted between his location and wherever it was last loaded (which could be the same spot). The same is true for the car seal on boxcars, a little metal strip threaded through the door latch, which must be broken to open the door. It indicates whether the car contents were tampered with. If the seals are intact, the load got there without tampering. But the seals are put on when the car is loaded, so if your paint gets on the seal it also gives away how recent the painting is. Another temporary attachment to avoid is the DANGER: PHOSPHOTOXIN sign, usually taped to the door of boxcars that were fumigated with aluminum phosphide to kill bugs and germs. That will usually be a recent attachment (how recent? Check the date, which should be handwritten in the blanks). If I need to paint through one of those, I peel it off, paint my piece, and stick it back on over the piece. (It will be ripped down, or fall off in the weather, not long after, so no worries about obscuring a square foot of your handiwork.)

At layups (or for other reasons) you might want to know whether the car is loaded or empty. If it's at a layup to unload, and is still loaded, workers at the warehouse will be looking at the car for sure, and might notice a painted sign or seal. If it's already been emptied, the workers at the building are less likely to notice that stuff, and the rail workers become your only concern. (I wind up checking to see if cars are loaded for logistics purposes, like if it's empty today I might want to look for it in the yard the next day for better flicks, but if it's loaded I have a couple of days, etc.) To tell if a boxcar is loaded, look for the seals on both sides - or, more simply, look at the wheel trucks/suspension and notice whether the springs are heavily compressed or squashed (the car is loaded) or taller and not compressed (the car is empty).

The rewards for observing the chillness rules are twofold: first, it's less likely anyone will notice that people paint trains at your spot. And if a worker does figure it out, he's a LOT less likely to care if you avoided the numbers, took your trash away with you, and otherwise respected the spot even if you don't quite have enough respect to abstain from painting trains in the first place. The people who bomb everything in sight, leave their cans, and obliterate the numbers are like the tramp who makes a big mess in the store bathroom closest to the jungle, and incurs the wrath of the manager who then bans transients from his facilities. Only with train painting, that ban comes in the form of raids and jail time, so all the more reason to be careful and neat.

[KaBar]

Mask the numbers with masking tape

 

Cracked---I've seen several good looking pieces lately where it was pretty obvious that the graff artist had masked off the numbers and boxes with newspaper and masking tape, cut the numbers in with an X-Acto knife, peeled the scrap, then painted the piece right over the masked numbers, then pulled the masking tape and newspaper off again, leaving the car numbers intact and undamaged, and cut in with a professional, artistic fashion. This way, you wouldn't be inhibited by worrying about trying not to hit the numbers or car information boxes, and you also wouldn't have to worry about some RIP track worker stenciling some ugly shit over the piece. As complicated as some of the stuff I see here in Houston is, the artist must be masking parts of them off already in order to achieve the complicated and fine-line work. Either that, or the guy must have been one helluva graffitti maestro.

[suburbian bum]

Kabar, a lot of times numbers are taped off. But some writers will do full peice around it and be able to avoid the numbers withought tapeing them off, it doesnt look as neat but it does the job.

[Cracked Ass]

I just use can control to dodge the numbers. I tried masking one time and it was too time-consuming, even at a chill dayspot. I wonder how many writers bother to mask. It's a fine idea if you have the time and patience. But I have seen suspiciously kind stamping jobs before, and I wondered if there aren't some RIP track workers out there who like the art and choose to restencil the numbers on there without carving out that big square of background first. I know High does these Happy Holidays e2es, and I'm pretty sure he wipes out the numbers, yet I've seen one of those e2es with the numbers restenciled with no background, so it had to be a worker who liked the car.

[Guest imported_Tesseract]

This may sound really stupid but if the numbers are fixed (type and size)

you could make stencils of your own for all numbers, go to the spot, paint the piece over the numbers and repaint them using your stencils.

It sound more economical than masking the numbers everytime.

But then again dodging sounds better.

[KaBar]

Hobos, Fires and the Railroads

 

I like to build a campfire in the jungle. I know that it's often not the smartest thing to do, and if the jungle is anywhere near the Yard, it will attract the bulls, but I don't care. I like to have a cup of hot coffee and lay in my hammock and watch trains roll through my local Yard.

We need to be careful about the way in which we build fires. I try to always use dry wood (wet wood smokes really badly) and I build a fire ring out of chunks of concrete or local rocks. I start off by trying to find some dry grass or little bunches of dry twigs for tinder. I gather up a good quantity of "squaw wood" (dry, dead branches that can be easily broken off of trees) and pick a few suitable, dry sticks to whittle up into good firestarter sticks. There's a variety of ways to build a campfire--you can drive a stake in the ground and build a "teepee" of sticks around that, leaning on the "pole." You can build a sort of log-cabin looking arrangement, and place your tinder in the middle. The most important thing is for the fire to be able to "breathe." So a pile of sticks all in a heap will usually not burn as well or as hot, or as low-smoke as a fire built to "burn hot."

If I have newspaper, I'm not opposed to using a chunk of wadded-up newspaper to get things rolling, especially if the weather is wet, and all the wood is soaked. I do not believe in using flammable liquids like gasoline. They are dangerous to be around and you cannot trust anybody else to be careful with them.

A good, hot fire made from dry wood means a good, clean fire with very little smoke. Green wood, leaves or wet wood means a smokey, fitfull fire than cannot be relied upon to burn well or without going out.

[Guest Risky Sizzle]

thank you

 

First off i gotta say I've been visiting a couple of "hobo sites" recently and they haven't been nearly as informative on hopping as you've been, thank you. Now I got just a couple of questions. first question, Whats the longest time frame you've spent trainhopping? and its pretty obvious how you feel about stealing and theft, but is there any other way to get by as far as food and drink is goes or I guess the better question is How did you eat when Rufe wasn't bagging food stamps?

[KaBar]

Rucks

 

Modern tramps usually carry their shit in a ruck. Frame packs are not popular, because the packs get thrown on and off cars, shoved through grainer holes, used as field expedient furniture to sit on, etc., and a pack frame is just in the way. If the frame of a packframe ruck breaks, you are fucked. The frames are usually aluminum, and you aren't going to be able to repair it trackside in some rinky-dink town. Following the trainhopper's adage "If it can break, it will break," I do not carry a framed ruck. I use an old Korean War M1952 mountain Army rucksack as my standard tramping ruck. They originally came with a tubular steel frame, and the frame SUCKED. The most annoying thing was that when I was hunting, etc., the frame banged and rattled against the stock of a slung rifle. I ditched the frame, and modified the pack straps so that the ruck is frameless--a true ruck sack.

My second favorite ruck is a medium ALICE pack, also rigged without the frame. (ALICE stands for All-purpose, Lightweight, Individual Carrying Equipment. Snappy, eh? The new military packs are called MOLLE--pronounced "Mollie.") The ALICE pack technology dated from the early '60s. Internal frames are much more practical for military purposes these days, but the ALICE pack technology was extremely tough and durable. The only drawback is that a medium ALICE has limited capacity, which is not a bad thing for a trainhopper anyway. Take ONLY THE NECESSITIES.

Third favorite is a large ALICE pack, rigged without the frame. On a large ALICE pack, the Army required the design to include the frame, due to the larger weight capacity. The top tube of an ALICE pack frame fits into a padded pocket at the top of the pack body, where the pad would fit against the soldier's upper back and shoulder blades. The packstraps attach to this frame tube. Standard ALICE pack packstraps can be rigged to work on an ALICE large, without the frame, by cutting a piece of wooden broomstick or other dowel-like material and inserting it crosswise up into the pocket. This provides a solid crossbar, similar to the top tube of the packframe, to which one can then rig packstraps. It's comfortable to carry with light to medium loads (up to thirty-five or forty pounds) but heavier loads are going to demand a frame unless you are built like Arnold Schwarznegger.

There are many civilian packs available, and many surplus military foreign packs that are excellent and cheaper (and often heavier) than ALICE packs. You can obtain excellent Swiss Army and East German Army packs these days in the $30 range. I do not care for Italian Army packs or equipment (even cheaper) or Spanish Army equipment, but the occasional bargain will show up. Hard to pass up a well-used French Army mountain rucksack for $12, regardless of how much I prefer American-made equipment. In many cases, especially if one considers the price, former Soviet or East German equipment may be preferable. But in my opinion, the ALICE pack is still the Caddillac.

There is a lot to be said for the military way of doing things. It is easy to add on equipment to your pack (the fasteners are military standard LBE clips, of course (Load-Bearing Equipment) so you can add canteens, First Aid kits, shovels, etc., etc. to your heart's content. Carrying all that excess shit is a real job, though.

Resist the temptation to buy bayonets, machetes, etc. Bayonets are a "prohibited weapon" in Texas, and in most states (they constitute a "dagger or poinard"--i.e. a knife longer than 5-1/2" that has a "false edge" i.e. sharp on both upper and lower edges of the blade. Carrying a prohibited weapon is a felony. If you are going to carry a dagger, you might as well just carry a pistol.) A good military shovel (an "entrenching tool") is heavy and not too useful to a trainhopper, but would be a HELL OF A GOOD WEAPON in a fight. I like the E-tools from WWII and Korea, with a wooden handle. The new aluminum shovels are worthless and cheap-ass. You can't dig well with them, and they are not tough enough to be very useful in a fight.

Don't forget--the fancier the equipment, the more it attracts streamliners and jackrollers. BE ALERT. The rip-off artists would much rather just steal your equipment instead of getting their own.

[KaBar]

Provisions

 

Risky---It's hard to condemn someone who is genuinely hungry from doing something illegal (like stealing) to eat, but in most of those cases, it was a matter of the hungry guy neglecting to prepare for the inevitable occurrance of the end of his bankroll. The worse thing about stealing is that it brings down the heat on everybody else. I do have a thing about harming others to provide for myself (i.e. stealing) but things that do not harm others, while not very dignified, still are not outside of what I consider to be acceptable.

My first choice is working for wages, because it requires very little preparation and usually no tools or equipment. I have worked (while tramping) as a laborer out of day labor pools (job sharking, we called it---the day labor business being the sharks) and just regular short-term minimum wage type jobs. I unloaded boxcars for cash, "swamped" on tractor-trailers (unloaded the cargo at a warehouse), worked as a nail driver on construction sites, as a welder, and so forth. Especially during the '60s and early '70s, jobs were easy to get, especially minimum-wage labor jobs. I worked as a laborer on foundation-repair crews (pick and shovel work), pouring concrete and as a concrete laborer, drove trucks in Texas, and once got hired to work as a roughneck on a jack-up oil rig in Wyoming. I eventually settled into arc welding as a trade, because I could make more money welding than doing anything else, but I don't recommend it. It is hard, dirty and not a very healthy profession. I breathed a ton of nickel-cadmium over the years, and it causes cancer.

I also worked in restaurants, usually as a bus boy or dishwasher. This is a good job for a young tramp in good health (you'll need a Health Card.) You always used to get at least one meal. Often, if the boss liked me, he'd give me a meal "to go" that I took to Rufe, or whomever I was travelling with. Also, restaurants always have uniforms for the scullery workers (the guys in the back who wash dishes, cut up vegetables, etc.) so you don't need "nice" work clothes. A lot of times I could wash up in the janitor sink, or something like that after work. If I was bussing tables, and I kept a particular waitress' tables squared away, sometimes she would give a share of her tips. Since we weren't paying rent (living at Sally Ann or somewhere like that) and got breakfast free, I could eat lunch at the restaurant and carry a meal out, my savings for "road money" built up pretty quickly. A couple of weeks of working and I'd be ready for several months of tramping.

When we were actually on the road, I was not adverse to dumpster-diving at all. Many times pizza joint workers will toss out pizza "by-the-piece" after it has been on the line for so many minutes (a hour or so--it's a Health regulation.) I found perfectly edible vegetables in dumpsters behind large grocery stores. If you offer to sweep up out back, the produce manager or assistant manager (or more likely, the produce boy, who is supposed to do the sweeping up) will set out boxes of bruised fruit, scrawny potatoes, etc. for you. Technically they are "in the garbage" (fair game) but they are boxed up in a clean cardboard box. You need to be careful, though, because other tramps or homeless people will rip off "your" vegetables if you aren't careful.

I have gone door-to-door offering to mow lawns or weed gardens as well. You would be surprised how generous people are if you seem down on your luck, but trying to find real work.

Stealing is bad for your self-esteem. So is doing things like dealing drugs. People who are poor who resort to breaking the law to eat simply have very little imagination or judgement. I'd rather dumpster-dive than eat jail food. Or worse, have to know that I ripped off some decent person because I was too lazy to work for my own food.

I never did it, but many counties will give a homeless person a small amount of "emergency money" if you are genuinely hungry, and especially if you have children. But they expect a parent to check into a shelter and start trying to get a regular, suitable place for the kid to live. I don't recommend tramping at all if you have a kid to care for, but I have met a few tramps with a child in tow, and once, two old geezers who had taken in a runaway. He called them by their first names, like"Mr. Smitty," and"Mr. John." When he answered them, it was "Yes, sir," and "No, sir." He obeyed them just like he would have obeyed a parent. Better to be loved and cared for by two old tramps than to be beaten and mistreated by your own kin, I guess.

Of course, many tramps panhandle. I've done it. It made me feel like shit. I prefer working.

Quite a few tramps "work a set-up" or "work a scam"--an easy way to make money without actually working too hard. This would include things like washing car windows or business windows (a "squeegee tramp") or selling something (newspapers, flowers, little American flags, etc.) The best set-up I ever saw was a "free" windshield deal. The tramps cleaned EVERY WINDSHIELD THEY COULD REACH when the light was red, FOR FREE. Of course, the next morning, those same people would take that same route to work. Eventually, they would give the guys something. Sometimes money, or food, or coffee, or clothing. This deal only works if you hit the same corner every day, day after day. This particular deal was featured in a movie, as well, that had Matt Dillon and Danny Glover. A good example of art imitating real life.

True tramps are not "pitiful." I never considered myself disadvantaged, or homeless or any of that weak-sister shit. But I don't consider the rest of the world fair game, either. I took care of myself.

The longest period I rode trains or hitched was five months. But in general, I stayed out about 18 months at a time, sometimes crashing with a friend for a couple of weeks, or stopping to work for a while. Especially if I met a girl, I would wind up "going homeguard" for a while. Rufe never did this. He was older and had a sort of low opinion of women in general, and didn't normally seek out their companionship, while I kept falling in love at every opportunity. Rufe would just roll his eyes whenever I'd meet a new girl. "What are you, pussy whipped? This ain't no hobby!" I think the hoppers of today are a lot less oriented to the lifestyle, and a lot more oriented to hopping as a thrilling "sport." That's cool. Tramping ain't for everybody.