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KaBar

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haha... thanks kabar... i'm trying to learn as much about this stuff as i can (that's why i've really been getting into your threads)... i've been looking at the magazines and books and all that, but it's rare that i get to actually converse with someone who actually has some miles under their belt... i'm more than willing to admit that most of us kids think we know everything, or even more so, that we have to figure it out, instead of being taught. so most of the people i'm able to talk to have less than 100 miles on them, and have only figured stuff out themselves... i really enjoy being able to hear about things like this from someone with experience, and someone who actually knows some of the history. my grandfather spent 10 years on the rails, but i never really got to talk to him about before he died...

 

anyways, thanks again kabar... i'm lovin this shit...

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if yer cruisin in the middle of nowhere does the rule of being hidden apply?

 

i wouldn't abide to that in sum cases. only if rollin slow through towns or ina yard stopped. i mean, really man. why stay hidden in a hole when u can watch the hills roll by and feel the air against yer face.

 

and i would consider this :when yer at top speed standin on the deck, u are just a speck amongst a bunch of steel so the chances of anyone seein ya roll by are slim. of course there is the chance but is it worth it to stay ducked or hidden cramped up just to avoid that small possibility? i think not.

 

maybe i'm just one of 'em young know it alls that has to learn from mistakes? i already have and i will continue to do so. i won't always be on the net for a free hopping lesson from someone who knows what the fuck is up.

thanks though for all the knowledge you been tellin. i will be back tomorrow to read more on my last day of work. then i'm leavin till next time i got e access.

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Start by reading Littlejohn

 

MFFatso and Vinyl---I think I assumed you guys know more about trainhopping than you actually do, so this is sort of my fault. I think you guys need to read Duffy Littlejohn's book, "Hopping Freight Trains in America." I didn't learn by reading a book, I was taught by a master tramp (LOL), but I think you guys need to start at a basic level of knowledge, and Littlejohn is the guy. However, please keep in mind that the information is a few years old, that it is PRE-9/11 and that Mr. Littlejohn, while an excellent writer and a very experienced trainhopper, is also trying to sell books, so he sugar coats trainhopping quite a bit. He doesn't dwell on the negative things, very real negative things, that are part of the tramping life.

You can get "Hopping Freight Trains in America" at Sand River Press, 1319- 14th Street , Los Osos, CA 93402 for about $15 postpaid. I forget, I think I sent them $16 just to be sure the postage was covered. There are a few books about hopping in recent times, the other one is by Daniel Leen and it's called "Freight Hopper's Guide for North America." But Leen's book is a little out of date--I read parts of it about ten years ago.

 

MMFatso--Of course, you can "stand up" whenever you feel like it, but it is a risk. I DO NOT recommend standing up 99% of the time. Inside a boxcar, slack action can knock you down, but at least you are inside a rail car. On a flatcar, or a "bulkhead flatcar" I do not recommend standing up at all. If something goes wrong, you could easily go off the end of the flatcar and under the wheels, or off the side into the ballast. Either way, you're pretty much either dead, dismembered or critically injured. "Riding the deck" is like hood surfing with the possibility of getting your arms and legs cut off. Understand? Don't be crazy.

People do ride flatcars (I don't.) People do ride bulkhead flatcars (I've done it, but it's too damned risky.) People do ride gondola cars (NEVER IF IT'S LOADED WITH ANYTHING, ONLY IF THEY ARE EMPTY.) The safest ride is a grainer in the hole, I think. Second would be a boxcar or an empty auto rack. Third would be a well car with containers loaded towards the front end and secured (always ride BEHIND the load, NEVER IN FRONT.) Never ride a well car that has no bottom deck (i.e. TTX 48's are okay, never a DTTX 53, etc.) Never ride a chemical car or a tanker, ever. I hate tank cars, I try not to even jump a train that has any, but here in Texas that's not easy, because the Texas Gulf Coast is the nation's petrochemical center. If I take a train that has tank cars, I try to stay as far from them as possible. If the train climbs the rails and the tank cars turn over, there will be a big chemical spill and maybe a fire. If you're there, you're FUCKED. The trick is to simply not be there to start with.

Of course people enjoy riding where they can see and enjoy the ride, that's the whole point. But "skylining" is taking dumb unnecessary risks of exposure. "No exposure without a purpose." If you don't need to be out on the grainer porch, then hide in the hole. If you have three or four guys riding together, you can split up into twos, or you can all try to find a boxcar. Keep in mind that the more of you there are, the more attention you will attract, but there is definately safety in numbers. No thugs or streamliners will try to hassle four guys together, as long as you stick together and unite behind one person who is the "leader." Learn to fight as a group. The best defense is a good offense--let assholes know right away that you, as a group, are more than ready to kick their asses pronto unless they leave. Don't assume that they are intimidated, either, they may have ten pals with guns right around the corner. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER allow a group that outnumbers you to board your car. If you are by yourself and someone tries to board tell them "THIS CAR IS FULL." If they try to board anyway, GET OFF. I've hopped with a woman, but quite frankly it is extremely dangerous. I wouldn't do it unless I was armed and with more than one other adult man or an older, strong teenager. It's too risky for the woman. Of course, there are women (and girls) who hop. All I can say is that they are either extremely brave or crazy as hell. Littlejohn says that it's no big deal for a woman to hop. I disagree. Too many streamliners and ex-convict thugs are on the trains for it to be safe unless you are with a group. All the women I see these days are traveling with a crew, and usually, a couple of good-sized dogs. A woman who is flying colors (FTRA, etc.) is generally safe, but in order to be a patch-holder she usually has to sleep with the bros, or at least one of them. Sometimes all of them.

 

http://www.ftra.org/TrampCam/BoxcarBertha.html

 

This site is a pic of some FTRA members up in the Pacific northwest. The story below the pic is nonsense, but the picture tells the story. Look closely--one member is a young woman. Look at the black bandanas rolled cowboy style around these tramps' necks. They are fastened with a silver concho. These men are members of the O.G.'s of the FTRA (also called the Black Bandanas by the cops), and are probably up on the Burlington Northern Hi-Line, where the FTRA originated, but there's no way to know for sure. All I can say is that hopping is risky. Don't expect it to be a cakewalk--you could get fucked up bad, especially if you don't follow the rules.

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thanks, yet again, kabar... i've done a good deal of reading, and do have a little experience, but there's so much more to gain from actually conversing with someone... stuff that no book is gonna tell you... seriously, almost all the old timers i've been able to talk to have had me buy them booze before htey'll actually sit down and talk to me... i look a lot like most of the squatter kids that have been riding recently, so i guess i don't really get taken seriously...

 

again, kabar, i can't thank you enough for these threads... :)

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Re: Start by reading Littlejohn

 

Originally posted by KaBar

I do not recommend standing up at all. If something goes wrong, you could easily go off the end of the flatcar and under the wheels, or off the side into the ballast. Either way, you're pretty much either dead, dismembered or critically injured. "Riding the deck" is like hood surfing with the possibility of getting your arms and legs cut off. Understand? Don't be crazy.

.

 

and if somone does decide to stand: i say "hold the fuck on to sumthing tight"!!!!

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Re: Foolish Overconfidence

 

Originally posted by KaBar

......... If we hadn't just been standing around like we owned the place, we would have never gotten popped. We should have headed straight out of the Yard when we got off the train and kept going.

 

but i bet u it felt good to just chill, reflect on the past night with coffee in hand on sturdy ground eh?

 

perhaps, u coulda just done that from a farther distance i suppose.

 

good stories. some one asked "tell us more stories." do go on. i just smiled when he asked that cuz i felt like i was sitting with a bunch of friends around a campfire listening to the ol' man tell stories. kinda the same right. heheh.

 

oh, what do y'all think about carrying id around. is it better to or leave it at home. what about a passport if yer caught hangin around a yard across the border would it be wiser to show it? is it easy to just say i got no id, but here's my name (give a fake name and addy) and accept the fine in the wrong name? am i dreaming in technicolor?

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Re: The Rails Are Just People

 

Originally posted by KaBar

. Getting popped once in a while is a risk we agree to take. IF YOU CAN'T ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES, DON'T TRESPASS ON RAILROAD PROPERTY. .

 

been thinking about that lately since bein popped for fatcapping the streets. and yup, i've come to realize it's a risk i accept. i ain't stopping yet though. i like risks as long as the consequnce doesn't end with steel and concret around you. i hate jail.

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Keepin' it Real

 

I'd hate to think that I encouraged anybody to do something that would get them in trouble, and even more, I'd hate to think I encouraged anybody to take a risk and then get hurt. The truth is that each of us is responsible for the decisions we make, and the consequences of those decisions. I keep hammering on this message because I came to understand it sort of late in life.

Once in Montana we got stuck in a little jerkwater town, riding a RIP train of bad order cars. Each night, they would have a westbound deadhead pick us up and we'd go another couple of hundred miles. It was like being tortured. I think it took us eleven days to get to Butte from Illinois. Back in those days we just lounged around the rail yard like we owned the place--we even built fires in the yard right next to the tracks and nobody cared one bit. We were sitting around drinking coffee waiting for a train (ANY train) to come through, and when one finally did, it turned out to be a whole bunch of black, dirty bathtub gons. I was fed up with waiting around, and so was another guy, and we both just grabbed our gear and started running for the train. Everybody else was calling out after us "Hey! Don't jump that train! Hey! Get off of it!" but we just hit it rolling and climbed on up. It turned out to be a coal train (duh) going to the mine at Colestrip, MT. We got all covered in coal dust and looked like a couple of vaudeville minstrels. We had to hitch-hike back, and everybody had a good laugh at our expense. I felt really young and stupid. Rufe was really pissed off at me, and told me, "If you ever do anything like that again when I tell you not to, we are quits. I won't partner up with a knothead. I told you to get off that goddamned train. Didn't you hear me?" I had, and admitted it. "Why didn't you get off? Don't you trust me to know what the hell I'm doing?" I really didn't have a good answer. Finally I just said "I'm sorry, I won't do anything like that again." One of the other men said "What a fucking greenhorn." and Rufe turned around to the guy and said "Shut your pie hole before I shut it for you." What I hadn't realized was that my stupid behavior would make Rufe look like a dumbass in front of the other hoppers. He looked at me and said, "Why don't you go down to the station and wash up, and bring back some water." I got my jug and Rufe's jug and walked down to the station, cleaned up in the men's room, filled up the jugs and walked back. When I got back, our stuff was all packed up. "Saddle up, we're moving." We moved to the east end of the yard and jungled up by ourselves. I felt pretty bad, but I thought it was real cool of Rufe to choose to move, and to spare me all the remarks and teasing. Rufe asked me if I knew how to play chess, and I said "No." He said, "Learn how. You always need to think at least two moves ahead, and always have a back-up plan. Colestrip is at the terminal end of a dead end line. Where did you think you'd be going from there, kid?" To be honest I hadn't even given it a thought.

Years later, I had a much better idea of what he was talking about. It isn't just railroads, but life itself. THINK AHEAD. Never be impulsive. What are the consequences of making a particular decision? The possible benefits? The possible detriments? If things don't go as planned, what's Plan B? Always have at least one back-up plan.

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Originally posted by TEE_rase_war

so true...

 

i believe that what we see and hear, is so candy coated (or the reverse, ie: the sept 11 attack) that it would do me better to take it in as lies. and see things for myself, through research, or other means.

 

YUP!

Check out all the readings, absorb some, and discard what doesn't fit into what you truly beleive (who you are and who you wish to be).

Even what's written here now amongst us board participants I leave some of the said info behind and take some with me along my road. "Thinking for oneself." I've taken that concept a while ago.

However, I'm a product of this society and I'll admit that alot of my thoughts and ideologies are shaped by my sorroundings since I was born. I can't escape that. You can't either unless you live on the moon. What I can do is live the way I think is right. (and adventure seems right to me). I just wanna give, learn, live and have fun.... Keep going. I can't and I won't stay still.

 

this thread was great to read. respect to you all. keep it rail.

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  • 2 weeks later...

TRAIN SIGNALS

 

I have often observed train signals trackside, and often wondered what was the exact meaning of a particular combination of lights. I mean, it seemed pretty obvious that "green means go" and "red means stop", but I knew there was a lot more information being transmitted that I was missing. I also knew that the signals on the RIGHT side of the track (in the direction one is traveling) control the movements of the train you are on, because the engineer operates the engine on the right side of the cab. "Semaphore" signals especially seemed like a mystery. I used to see them trackside, but I never saw one move it's flag, leading me to believe they were outdated and although still existing, probably non-functional or at least no longer used.

Today I discovered a website dedicated to the SP, and on it, some re-prints of signal manuals pages. They are not extensive, but it's worth looking at. Duffy Littlejohn covers some of this stuff in "Hopping Freight Trains in America," as well.

http:www.railspot.com

On the Railspot page, scroll down to "Southern Pacific Transportation Co.", then on that page go to "Block Signals & Rules."

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Glad You Enjoyed It, but

 

I didn't do it all, you know. Even people who just read stuff and didn't ask a question still contributed by being part of the "audience." If you look at it like a "class" in tramping, remember that for a class to be successful, it requires both somebody teaching what he knows and somebody learning stuff he didn't know. A teacher teaching to an empty classroom isn't a class, and a group of students just asking random questions ("Is this going to be on the test?") isn't a class. For a class to be successful, it requires effort on both parties' parts. Having people respond sort of inspires a "teacher" to try to teach better. When people are uninterested or bored, it hardly seems worth the bother to try and teach anything.

I really like 12 oz. Prophet, it's one of the coolest boards I ever came across, and I'm pretty much amazed that anybody from this general age group and orientation to the world would find tramp lore very interesting. Amazed, but pleased. I'm kinda worried that I'm running out of topics though.

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when you were tramping around on freight lines how did you find out about world changing events, wars, assaniations, and all that so called important shit...also what was the reaction like among the freight rider community at the time. im a bit groggy on the dates your were activley riding, my bad.

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NEWSPAPERS

 

Glass Etch--You need to remember that tramps use newspapers as a major resource. Old papers (well, usually a day or two old)_ can always be found in an active jungle, plus, a lot of tramps sell newspapers to make a buck. Since there's not a lot to do in the jungle, a lot of tramps are very well read. Public Libraries are one of the best places to get warm and dry (but you can't bring your gear in--bummer). I spent a little time in Public Libraries, and they always have the latest up-to-date periodicals and magazines. I read Time and Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report, The Economist and other well-known magazines, plus the New York Times and the local papers. Up north, that was often the Spokane "Spokesman-Review," the Portland "Oregonian", or the San Francisco "Examiner," the Seattle "Times" or the "Post-Intelligencer." After you finish reading all the propaganda (LOL) you can get your revenge by using the newspaper for shitpaper. It's no tougher on your behind than it is on your mind. I frequently used (and still use) wads of newspaper to start camp fires. I carry a newspaper or two in my ruck, against my back, along with a copy of Trains magazine and Railfan. I leave newspapers, rolled up in their suburban plastic sleeve in my jungles, so the bros will have both reading materiale and shitpaper and campfire tinder. You can use a clean newspaper section or two for a cutting board and food preparation area as well.

If you are really in a hurt locker, you can use wadded-up newspapers for insulation. Or a section of newspaper and some duct tape for a field-expedient splint or bandage in an emergency. Newspapers are hot shit for just about everything except one thing.

Getting the news. For getting the news, I recommend the Internet, but it makes poor shitpaper or splints, LOL.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Army Field Jackets

 

If you think about it, the natural affinity that trainhoppers have for military surplus Army equipment makes perfect sense. The Army requires it's suppliers to design equipent that is extremely DURABLE. Back in the 1950's and early '60s, you could get Army equipment dirt cheap. I can recall buying WWII canvas Army combat packs for a dollar. A pistol belt, canteen and canteen cover, and a canteen cup would cost about $3.50. Just about every kid I knew had a collection of "Army stuff", and we loved playing war. In the neighborhood I lived in back then (South Park in Houston, off what is now Martin Luther King Blvd.) there were several bayous and drainage ditches, and lots of undeveloped land, where we built forts, club houses and rode our old-style one-speed bicycles all over on little "roads" made by years of boys on bicycles.

I didn't buy my first Army field jacket until I was about 12. I cannot recall seeing them for sale in Army-Navy Surplus stores before that, but I'm sure they must have been there for sale, I just didn't realize what I was looking at. We used to see tramps and hobos, "yard men" and just regular Dads and older brothers wearing military clothing, because it was dirt cheap and durable. People would buy a pair of Army coveralls to wear while they worked on their cars, for instance.

When I realized that one could add a "field jacket liner" to a field jacket and make it into an effective winter coat, I bought one. I have owned a field jacket of one kind or another ever since.

Back in the '50's, all military clothing was pretty much "olive drab" colored. Once in a while you might see a Marine Corps camouflage combat blouse (like a windbreaker with a hood). All of the field jackets I bought until I joined the Marine Corps were all olive drab.

Today, field jackets that are not "woodland" camouflage or desert camouflage are hard to find. I see lots of tramps wearing camouflage trousers or field jackets. The only bad thing is that camouflage attracts attention if you are "in town", but it works GREAT for hopping at night. I always buy a field jacket liner. They button into the jacket, and I used one up north in weather as cold as six degrees above zero and they work fine, as long as you've got a warm knit cap and some good winter gloves. In cold weather I always wear insulated underwear and "snow-pack" rubber boots with a removeable felt liner and two pairs of socks.

I think Army field jackets are one of the most versatile coats you can buy. I paid about $60 for the last one I bought new.

Military coats from other countries, especially European countries work great too. Dutch and German military combat coats are EXTREMELY warm, almost too heavy for the U.S. You can just lay down and sleep in a Dutch Army coat. They are 3/4 length (just below the knees). Russian coats are full length, but they look really wierd in the U.S. Nobody else here wears full-length coats like that. But they are real warm. I see them for sale at gun shows and places like that very cheaply. Maybe $25.

Anyway, I love Army field jackets. They work great.

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Running on Empty

 

Cool. But not me--I don't think driving a vehicle with an easily remembered feature like that is a very good idea, especially for graff writers or trainhoppers. Of course, most tramps and trainhoppers don't even own a car at all, and when I was a young tramp, back in my twenties, I didn't either. The whole idea of tramping is to reduce one's consumer consumption, and thereby one's monthly overhead, to the bare minimum, but to still be able to travel and enjoy what life has to offer. At one point in my life, I was really into riding trains 24/7 and I didn't care about or desire a fixed address, a "good resume'," a healthy lifestyle or even having the responsibility of something as basic as having a girlfriend or writing home to my Mom. Most of the guys I met were virtually rootless. They had either suffered some collapse of their normal life, lost jobs, went through divorces, were running from some trouble or another, or (like me) had just deliberately severed all connections with the safe, suburban life they grew up with. One of the reasons the cops hassle tramps so much is that tramps are often in trouble with the law.

I bought a van later on, and lived out of that for a while. The very things that attracted me to tramp life and trainhopping are generally repulsive to most women. Female hoppers were rare back then and are still pretty rare today. Seeing a male/female couple is rare. Most women desire a stable, safe lifestyle with some guarantees for the future. Tramping definately does not provide that.

The truth is that the sort of absence of responsibility that creates that exhilarating sensation of freedom has a down side. It is that very self-same responsibility that makes it possible to live life safely, to have a "worthwhile future," and to be responsible and economically productive enough to be able to protect and provide for a girlfriend, a wife or a female partner. The women who choose to hang out with tramps and trainhoppers are often either almost foolhardy adventurers, or they are trying to escape something horrible (a wife-beating husband or an abusive father), or they are girls with serious emotional problems or even mental illness. There are, of course, a few "just regular women" who happen to have chosen the tramp lifestyle, but these are much rarer. A few anarchist/punk radical women or tough-ass lesbians can be found on the rails too. But in my experience (and I mean no disrespect to the women who hop who do not fit this generalization) most of the women I met while I was hopping had been physically or sexually abused by men, had low expectations of life, relatively poor boundaries and had a substance abuse problem (either drugs or alcohol, or both.) The men they were with often fit the same description, with the added element of having been to prison. The women often attached themselves to male trainhoppers big enough, strong enough and mean enough to protect them from all adversaries. Sometimes this actually worked out to be a small group of men who contituted a crew. Ten or fifteen years ago, this would have probably been an FTRA crew. Today, due to all the publicity and heat from the cops, probably an independent, unaffiliated crew. Very few independent tramps travel in the company of women or girls. It is too difficult to protect them, unless you have a crew. In any case, tramp life doesn't offer a woman much in the long run. Most stand-up tramps didn't intend to spend twenty years on the road. But shit happens, especially if you are working without a plan.

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kabar's spent so much time talking about gunboats and such, so i decided i have to add to it...

 

trash can barbeque: get yerself a trashcan with a lid, a smallish bike wheel (it needs to fit 1/2 to 3/4 of the way up the trash can), and a claw hammer, or a big pointy rock or something...

empty out the trash can, and clean off the lid. get yer bike wheel, and put it in the trash can, making a shelf type dealie. make a 8-10 inch hole in the side of the can, about an inch or two above where the wheel rests. the wood yer burning is gonna rest on the wheel, and the hole works as a breathing hole for the fire, and gives you a way to add more wood when it's burning out. now that you have the fire aspect going, take the trash can lid and flip it upside down. make a hole in the middle of it, and if you want to you can add more, but it's not really neccesary, they're just for drainage... put the lid on the can, still upside down, let it get hot, and start cookin... i've made these for quite a few beach barbeques, and sometime even in alleys or parks when i'm bummin it... they work great...

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Vinyl Junkie---I see old re-cycled barbeque pits and stuff like that all the time in some jungles, especially jungles where "homeless" people have set up camp. Being able to create a field-expedient pit or stove or tent or whatever out of whatever one can find around is a great urban survival skill. I enjoy setting out with minimal gear and accumulating appropriate stuff as I go. As far as tramping goes, we live in the Horn of Plenty here in the U.S. We throw away more shit in a day than most people in the Third World see in their entire lives. Ain't it great being an American? No excuse for not being able to "make it" here unless somebody is just terminally stupid or so fucking lazy that they can't be bothered to go pick the stuff up off the ground. I've seen homeless guys with a bicycle and a bike trailer, and SO MUCH SCAVENGED GEAR that they could hardly pedal the bike. Hell, even our beggars are rich!

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absolutely kabar... the only traveling gear i've really paid for is a small travel pillow... also, i think i may have posted this before, but i would like to point out to people that you don't even need to be a "stinky dumpster diver" to score trashed gear... places like rei and northface throw out "damaged" gear all the time, usually just a small slash in it or something... easy to sew up, and there's your brand new sleeping bag, travel pack, etc...

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  • 3 weeks later...

Trainwatching and Scoping Jungles

 

Southern and I went out trainwatching and checking out several jungles in Houston today. It was a lot of fun, just hanging out in the jungle, brewing up coffee and kicking it. I saw a lot of good catches, but mainly we just chilled and Southern shot some flicks of rolling graff. Sometimes it seems like to me that I'm hanging on to the middle-class, civilized life by a fucking thread. It wouldn't take much to see me back trainhopping. Sometimes I dream about it--like one of those horrible "escape" dreams? Instead of running in concrete to escape, though, I'm running trying to catch a rolling grainer. No wonder I wake up tired.

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Tee_Rase---I only hop rarely now, due to work and time considerations. Trainhopping is a notoriously undependable way to get from one place to another. You can't be sure that a train is going to run when scheduled, or even when called. Once you get somewhere, you can't be sure you'll be able to make a connecting train, or if you are there and ready, that you'll be able to catch it without interferance from bulls, passers-by, bad weather or whatever. So if you're going hopping, you need some TIME---time off from work, time away from demands of family and friends. And that sort of time, for a guy with a regular life, is hard to come by more than a few times per year. It's easier for a single man, and unemployed guy, a self-employed guy, etc. Ability and desire are not the problem. Grace from responsibility is the problem.

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Take Care of Your Feet

 

Way back in 1967, when I was 16 and traveling California with some graduated seniors from my high-school (who were all having a "one last fling" summer before reporting to military service during the Vietnam War) I discovered hippies and underground newspapers, and Head Shops, and the just-barely-emerging anti-war movement. My mom knew I was going anyway, so she had elicited a promise to be back in time for school in September, and gave me $100. This was one of the wisest decisions my Mom ever made as a parent. Because we had struck a deal, and she insisted we shake on it, I felt honor bound to return on time, and I did. It sort of set the tone for my whole adolescence.

I was gone the whole summer with my surfing buddies, and we happened to arrive in San Francisco right square in the middle of the "Summer of Love."

Man, what a revelation.

One of the things that happened to me was that I met a bunch of hippies who lived in a commune in the Haight-Ashbury district in San Francisco (they all called it "The City", like there was only one) who sold a newspaper called The Oracle on the streets to make a living. One of their writers had a regular column on "How to Survive on the Street" and I also attended a sort of seminar that this guy taught in Dolores Park, in the Mission District.

Along with a lot of really good advice, especially for 1967 San Francisco ("Don't ball people you don't know. If you just have to fuck somebody you don't know very well, wear a rubber, or insist that he wear one.") there was an entire section on taking care of your feet.

Most of the heads in San Francisco were on foot, did not own a car or any other form of transportation other than their thumb, MUNI or crossing the bay and catching a freight. For some reason, bicycles just didn't seem to occur to anybody.

So here's some foot advice.

 

1.) Keep your feet clean. Wash them, with soap and water, whenever you get a chance, at least once per day.

2.) Always wear socks. If you are on a long hump, wear two pair--one pair should be a synthetic/wool blend and the pair closest to your feet should be a hiker's "wick" sock to keep your feet dry. Don't wear cotton. Cotton kills.

3.) Use foot powder, every day. Put it inside your socks, by pushing the open can inside of a sock before you put the sock on your foot, and giving the can a couple of shakes. The best foot powder is "medicated" foot powder, preferably medicated with clotrimazole (Lotrimin) or tolnaftate (Tinactin) in the powder.

4.) Wear good, sturdy boots, and lace them up well, to protect your ankles.

5.) If you are humping a heavy pack, rest 5 minutes out of every hour, and if you can, take off your boots and inspect your feet.

6.) If you think you are developing a blister, put moleskin or some other adhesive covering over the area to protect it. If caught early enough, you could avoid a blister altogether. If the blister is already formed, let the water out with a sewing needle sterilized in an open flame.

7.) Change your socks twice a day. Wash the soiled pair and air-dry them on the back of your pack.

8.) USE ARCH SUPPORT INSERTS IN YOUR BOOTS. Especially if you are carrying a load of more than 30 pounds.

9.) If your feet feel hot and uncomfortable, REST. Better to move a little slower than to have your feet give out on you.

 

That's it. For now, I guess.

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dont let em get ya down.

 

so if anyone else decides to come on to this thread and talk shit, dont respond. graffiti writers are convinced its cool to piss people off for no reason , that is, until theyre face to face with someone whos willing to fight. (me included, i used to be a smart ass, now im comfortable just being a dumb ass). so dont let the ego-mad put cinders in your ass.

good posts. good info. one question--im getting married in about 4 months, and im real happy about that, thing is i got itchy feet, and might want to take a couple real inexpensive vacations later on in life. you say you hop fr8s from time to time still,--how does your old lady feel about that?

 

 

...why dont you work, like other men do?

'how can i get a job when you're holdin' down two?!'

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Wobblies, Women and Tramp Life

 

Hava Nagila--- I used to have a few copies of the IWW's "Little Red Songbook" that had that version of "Hallalujah, I'm A Bum!" in it. I forget who got credit. T-Bone Slim? They all took some cool monikers back in those days. I once stayed in the "barracks" at the old IWW hall on North Halstead in Chicago for a few weeks, about 1972. I think Pat Murfin was the GST (General Secretary/Treasurer) back in those days. He was one hard drinkin' Irish wild man. It got him in trouble with the old heads. In their day, taking a drink in the Hall was forbidden, and saloon keepers and honky-tonk operators were the enemy. One time I was sitting around in the IWW hall on North Halstead and two crazy-ass anarchists about twenty years old burst in the door, and came pounding up the stairs. (The Hall was on the second floor,) carrying a suitcase that appeared to be very heavy. One of them said, as they rushed past us towards the kitchen and the back door, "We weren't here!" About five minutes later, in rushed several people who were dressed like cops in those really bad old '70s movies, with blow-dry haircuts and those stupid Saturday Night Fever lapels. They all looked like Herb Tarlick from the old series "WKRP in Cincinnatti." "Did you see a couple of guys with a suitcase?!!" Everybody just looked at each other, like, What? Suitcase? Nah. As soon as they shut the door we all ran different directions. Murphy slammed the safe and spun the dial and the Hall was closed and locked in two minutes. I never found out exactly what was in the suitcase, but at the bar, later, one guy raised an eyebrow and made his finger into a "pow-pow" gun, with the index finger pointing forward and the thumb straight up. That's all that was ever said. I didn't ask and nobody explained it. A few days later we were on our way to the IWW Long Beach strike at International Wood Products.

 

But I digress.

 

It would be a very rare woman who would expect to start married life with an active trainhopper whose idea of a vacation included jumping freights. I'm not saying it's impossible, because I did hitch-hike and hop with a woman that I later married, but it was an exceedingly unusual situation. We were hiding from her husband and his neo-Nazi asshole buddies. We didn't own a car, or have a fixed address. We sent letters home via a mail drop arranged through the anarchist underground network in New York. Our families mailed letters to us at this anonymous mailbox at some gigantic Post Office in New York, and they were re-mailed to us, wherever we happened to be, by some dedicated hard-ass libertarian socialists.

 

If you want to see a movie about this period of time in the anarchist movement, go rent "Missing" with Jack Lemon and Sissy Spacek. You can probably get it for a buck, it's more than thirty years old, but fairly accurate. A few years before, Spacek played in a much-harder-to-find made-for-TV movie called "Katharine" which was an amalgamation of several female figures in the Weather Underground (Marxist-Leninists, of course, but still a fair movie, but way over-glamorized.) For the real deal, try to find Emile De Antonio's "Underground" (1976) which was a documentary on the then-still-active Weather Underground's leadership, and included an interview with Bill Ayers, Bernadine Dohrn, Jeff Jones, Kathy Boudin and Kathy Wilkerson, and some others. They were like those Japanese soldiers left behind on some Pacific atoll, still standing guard over their jungle redoubt ten or fifteen years after the War was over.

 

Or for a much less pampered view of that period, try to find "Face of War" (1968) by Eugene Jones. It is a documentary about the Marines of Mike Co., 3/7 in Vietnam. Semper FI. The kids of the ruling class joined the Weathermen. The working class kids got drafted into the infantry. Mike 3/7 saw a shitload of combat. The Weathermen were a bunch of Richie Rich pussies. Even the much-mourned Town House Explosion was probably an effort on the part of one of the women to prevent the bombs they were manufacturing from being used in attacks against the U.S. Government. One of those women (probably Kathy Wilkerson, or so I've heard) set the explosives off on purpose. She turned out to have a pacifist streak her comrades underestimated. (Edit: 5/10/02---I was discussing this theory about Wilkerson with another old geezer from the Sixties and he brought up a astoundingly obvious point. Whoever set off the explosives, whether by accident or deliberately, probably died in the explosion. Since both Ted Gold and Terry Robbins were well known, even back then, to be strong proponents of an attack strategy ("propaganda of the deed") neither one of them is likely to have set off the explosives, unless by accident. The most likely actor in a "pacifist self-sacrifice" explosion would be Diana Oughton, not Wilkerson. Wilkerson did not surrender for another ten years, in 1980. See what careless thinking will get you?)

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