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KaBar

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how about some flicks of the KABAR and his jungle..

to get this thing going again..

 

here are a few flicks from a summer trip to houston.

 

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THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE WHEN WE FIRST WALKED UP, WHO EVER WAS THERE BEFORE DIDNT CLEAN UP AFTER THEMSELVES AND MADE A SMALL MESS OF THE CAMP.

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KABAR CLEANING UP, BURNING TRASH, NOTE THE "FRISCO CIRCLE"

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A NOTE OF SUGGESTIONS AND ADVICE FOR TRAMPS AND RAILRIDERS LEFT AT CAMP

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A LITTLE STREAK SESSION

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WALKING TO AN AREA THAT USE TO BE THE LOCATION OF A JUNGLE NEAR

THE T & N.O. JUNCTION, WHERE KABAR CAUGHT HIS FIRST EVER HOP OUT TO THE COAST OF TX.

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what a great HOT day that was, a great experience, hope to meet you again one day KABAR.

enjoy the flicks!

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Pfffffffffft---

 

Thanks for sharing the pics, and for maintaining good security like we agreed on. And you're right, that WAS a hot day! I heard from Stretch. He was up in Massachusetts and was headed to Cleveland and then probably will work his way back down to Houston. One of the first things we will need to do is put a decent roof on the hooch, like a regular gable roof--2x4 rafters, decked with plywood and shingled or covered with roll roofing paper.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Man, when I was a teenager, and I used to be in my going out bombing/painting every single night mode.I was a real knucklehead

back then. Pretty much no sense, except a little knowledge of how to get up, steal some paint,food,liquor etc., bust a move on a lady or 2,

How to get some money (without getting a job, becuase graff writing was pretty much a full time job for me, then) Anyway, I figured, If my life doesn't amount to much (when I say"doesn't amount to much" I meant , you know...how people expect you to be, like steady job, married , kids etc.) Anyway, i figured I could always be a hobo and just paint freights full time because hobos (as I saw it) are underrated. I mean, they travel the country, see the beautiful countryside, it's like being a rock star, well, uh, minus the girls and the fame and the drugs, well maybe theres drugs and hobo groupies, ...Kabar are there hobo groupies??...ok , well , then theres the hobo streaks thing for the fame, well then, Yeah, it's pretty much like being a rock star, except a hobo's stretch limo is longer than a rock star's

 

Well, anyway, I ended up with the wife, the kids and a steady job. And I actually get paid to write graffiti on things. It worked out ok, although I do fantasize about doing the hobo thing for a while.

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Well, if there are any hobo groupies, I never met any. It's not a lifestyle that attracts very many women, although there are a few. Most of the women I've met trainhopping tended to be either traveling with their boyfriend, or pretty unusual adventurous types. Probably for every genuine rail-riding woman there are fifty guys.

The most impressive female railriders I've met recently have been Jenny (she rides with Dritz) and Stray Cat Julie from Canada. Both of these women are straight up, good looking trainhoppers who don't hesitate a minute to catch out wherever they have a mind to go. They are both very experienced, long-time riders. Jenny has about six years now, and I think Julie told me she started catching out about eight years ago. They are both very knowledgeable and skilled, and they can pretty much handle anything that happens.

 

Dawood, I can't think of too many reasons to not go ride a few trains, unless the demands of family and work just completely prohibit it. I warn you right now, though, sometimes if you start riding trains you can't stop. It's sort of addictive. Connecticut Shorty says "My Dad always used to say once you've pissed out of an open boxcar door at fifty miles an hour, you're hooked for life."

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Originally posted by Pfffffffffft+Dec 30 2005, 08:00 AM--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (Pfffffffffft - Dec 30 2005, 08:00 AM)</div><div class='quotemain'><!--QuoteBegin-KaBar2@Dec 29 2005, 02:16 AM

"My Dad always used to say once you've pissed out of an open boxcar door at fifty miles an hour, you're hooked for life."

 

 

 

hahaha.

[/b]

 

 

I second that laugh...

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

i have a question. im dont know much about trains compared to alot of you. but along the tracks you will see those lights that are either red, yellow, or green. now what exactly do these mean. at switch lines, and the light is red, does this mean that the train is going to stop. and if it is yellow does that mean its going to go through slow. and of course green meaning it will keep going. id like to know cause i kinda get tired of waiting for a train at the switch up not knowing if its gonna stop or not.

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Wase--

 

This subject is covered up the stack somewhere, and there is a link to a pretty good explanation of how signals work. Just scan the stack. Or just read the whole thing, whatever. I enjoyed writing it all down. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

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  • 2 weeks later...

riding the rails would be an experience. the only times i've hopped trains was when i was getting chased out of the yards and hopping the train seemed like the best mode to get away. well the train didnt stop until i got to wisconsin and i called my cuz'n to come pick me up from whatever small ass town i was in. i didnt sleep at all the whole time cuz i was to afraid somthing was gonna happen, but watching the sun come up over the forest made it worth it

 

peace

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I heard from Stretch--he and Burlington Dog are in Jackson, Mississippi. He's trying to get a job working for Casey Jones' Village, but the job doesn't start until May, when tourist season open.

 

You know, I NEVER thought of Mississippi as being a "tramp friendly" place, but it sure seems to be less hassle than a lot of the traditional hobo territory like Montana or Wyoming. It's funny how one's perceptions of a place can be colored by prejudicial stories in the newspaper and so on. Being raised in the 1960's, with all the mean-ass redneck behavior from the cops in the South, I always considered it to be very dangerous, hostile territory. Not any more, apparently.

 

BTW, anybody who lives down near Mississippi, there will be a big hobo gathering in Amory MS in April. Check out the dates on Fran's Hobo Grapevine.

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Yes, I have ridden IM well cars. It's actually a lot easier to hit a grainer or a TTX 48 IM well car or a gondola car than it is to hit a moving boxcar. It's all dangerous, don't get me wrong--I do my dead level best to not hit rolling trains, but cars that have a ladder that gives access to the ride are much easier to hit. I used to hit rolling revenue boxcars (the old kind, not the new plug-door boxcars) back in the day when I was in my twenties. I was younger, and much stronger, and much, much crazier.

 

Stretch and I rode from Mason City, Iowa, to Shreveport, Louisiana, without once needing to hit a rolling train. We came close once, in Clinton, Iowa, on the Mississippi River, but the train (which was rolling very slowly) stopped for a signal where the ICE crosses the UP Superhighway at the swing bridge. (The UP Superhighway runs from L.A. to Chicago.) We had a full ten minutes to board and stash our stuff. I rode back in the grainer hole on a ACF Centerflo hopper car. Stretch and Burlington rode on another, identical grainer, also in the grainer hole. When we got to Davenport, the train crew told us "Hey, there's open boxcars about ten cars back." So in Davenport we detrained and re-boarded in a nice, clean KCS PD boxcar, and cracked open the door about five feet, then clamped down the door latch handle, locking the door open. It never moved an inch, all the way down to KCMO.

 

My advice--NEVER HIT A ROLLING TRAIN. It is not necessary if you use your head, and figure out where the trains are going to stop for signals or crew changes. Hitting rolling trains is for chumps. Be smart, and get your train while it is STANDING.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Heard from Stretch again. He made it to Shreveport in the rain. He's holed up with a couple of friends of his, a homeless guy and his girlfriend, who lived under a bridge somewhere in Shreveport.

 

He told me that he got locked in a boxcar for the first time in his entire railriding career. He boarded a plug-door boxcar and was so tired he went to sleep and didn't bother to winch down the door. When he woke up, he was in pitch black dark in some railyard and he was locked in. The door slid shut while he was asleep, somewhere in Louisiana.

Fighting a rising sense of panic, he used his flashlight to find the car number (which apparently is located INSIDE of every rail car as well as outside--I didn't know that) and started making some phone calls on his pre-paid cell phone. Finally, he managed to get the number of the Yardmaster in the yard his tain was in. He told the Yardmaster what was going on, and the number of the car, and the Yardmaster basically said "You've got to be fucking kidding." Finally he convinced the Yardmaster to send out a switchman to locate the car. When the switchman found the car and knocked on the door, Burlington went ballistic, barking and snarling and going apeshit. The switchman said "I'll be risking my life to open this door," but Stretch convinced him to just open it a few inches and then retreat. The switchman did so, and Stretch got the door rolled open by himself. Once he got all his shit out of the car and on the ballast, the switchman gave him a lecture, from a safe distance. Burl barked his ass off.

 

But they didn't call the cops. Nice guys.

 

Anyway, he's in Shreveport now. He called me up with a skinfull of booze, just to let me know what's up. I'm thinking about taking the Dog up to Shreveport and riding down the Rabbit with him and Burl.

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I went up tyo Shreveport on the bus and met up with Stretch Thgursday night. He woke me up, sleeping in the bus station, and we walked down to the jungle and drank a couple of beers about 0400. Along about daylight we got up and made coffee, then walked over to the beer store for resupply when it opened. After meeting several of Stretch's tramp buddies, we walked to the UP yard and visited Ricky's camp, then started lookingh for a Houston train. Inityially we boarded a boxcat, but another train on the mainline looked better, so we got off the boxcar and onto a Cadillac grainer. This was kind of a debateable situation, because it looked like rain. The grainer pulled at 4:00pm, and no sooner than the train cleared the city limits, it started to rain a little.

 

The Rabbit is a fast ride generally, but we looked to be following our boxcar, and the Cadillac grainerr train was running about 25 or thirty, but once it started getting darker, the hogger put his foot in it and we were probably running 60 or 65. The grainer started to shimmy above about 60. It was a lot of fun--the tracks run in a sort of alley made by the pine forest, so the sensation of speed is enhanced. We stopped and went into the hole about midnight to let a northbound pass (it's single track most of the way with sidings) and we met the conductor, who got off to throw a switch. Crew change was in another little town, about 0200 this morning, then it was a straight, freezing-ass, rainy run to Houston. We blasted right through the Humble crew change point and went on south across Rabbit Junction, and into the Hardy Yard/ Englwood switch, took the switch to Englewood and conveniently slowed WAY down. She stopped for about a minute just west of the Englewood receiving yard, and we bailed off, me first, thern Burl, then Stretch pitched the gear.

 

It was fun, despite the rainy ass, cold ass weather. More to come. Beer run. Here's a pic from our trip down from Britt, that's me in a autorack east of Boone, Iowa, just after sunrise.

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