# Cheyenne To Spokane



## Poking Victim (Aug 30, 2008)

After attending the Rainbow Gathering in the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Eastern Wyoming, I headed down to New Mexico. I found out my girlfriend was definitely an ex-girlfriend and didn't want to see me so much, so I hung out in Silver City with some friends then headed NorthWest. 
I have a dog, too. His name is Buckley and he's a purebred Queensland Heeler.
We hitched up to Cheyenne, stopping in Santa Fe, Crestone and Boulder for a little fun. 
In Cheyenne we were planning on going Northbound, through Montana, a state I have not seen yet, for some reason or another. We arrived in the morning, I bought a gallon of tea (good sturdy jug) and we headed to the North end of the BNSF yard. After detouring through the park, we set down under the I-25 overpass, about 100 feet South of the Warren Air Force Base, and it's security cameras. There was someone else under the bridge, too. We met Red, a nice trainrider in his home state of Wyoming, who was waiting to catch Northbound as well. Red had been pulled off the train in the Air Force Base recently and was waiting for a chance to get up to Casper under the cover of night. I tried to sleep the rest of the day in anticipation of staying up all night waiting. Nothing came through that I could catch, though. It was slow and the crew change location varied. The next day, about noon the rain let up. Red said we could walk across town to an Albertsons and get food with his EBT card. I obliged and not three blocks into the walk it started raining again. I didn't want to turn back, though, and neither did he. I saw a car with multi-colored Buffalo's stenciled on it and commented on seeing similar Buffalo's on a train car. The owner of the car was in his yard and talked to us for a second, asking if I had been to the Rainbow Gathering and if I had seen the car there. 
After walking about a mile, Red said he didn't recognize the area we were in and we asked directions at a Domino's. We had taken a wrong turn, but we were already wet, so we continued to the Albertsons. It was longer than he remembered it, so we were absolutely soaked by the time we got there. We got some sandwich fixin's and a few other items. Outside of the store some kid started talking to us, real interested in our travels; he came back a minute later and started grilling us on religion (by the end he was pretty much telling us we'd go to hell). We started walking back to the bridge; I had a plan to stop by the Buffalo car guy's house and see if he had a dryer, since my clothes were soaked and I had no extras. Some old man in a Cadillac pulled over and rolled down his window. I asked him what was up and he told me he wasn't talking to me. He asked Red how far he was going with the groceries and we explained we were walking together. So the man drove off, taking all his prejudices with him. We were beaming at that point; this was by far not the worst situation we had been in, and assholes seemed to give us hope. A few miles of walking, and we stopped at the Buffalo car dude's house. He didn't have a dryer; he lived in a duplex. He gave me some dry clothes and some towels, plus a duffel bag. Back under the bridge we ate and got dry and warm. 
It rained through the night and through the next day, too. However, the rain cleared up around sunset. Then a GM train came through, with a few open boxcars, but they rolled into the airforce base. There was a SBD coal train on our side of the tracks, anyways. I figured maybe there was another one open on the opposite side. I packed up my stuff and told Red I was walking around the yard; in any case both trains would leave and I could walk back across the tracks to the other side of the bridge. When I got to the other side there was an open boxcar right in front of me and we loaded up. After rolling through the Air Force base I rolled out my bedroll and tried to get some sleep. 
We arrived in Casper in the morning; I got off fearing the train might be going to Nebraska. I met a homeless man in a small park, he gave me a few bucks and I went to take a shower at the mission then get breakfast. When I was eating breakfast the the Village Inn he came up again and paid for my breakfast, then gave me two more dollars, which I left for a tip.
I waited for another Northbound in a pallet fort at the South end of the yard. There was an old guy there who was just sitting around in the shade reading. Later on I talked to him a bit; he was from Santa Barbara originally, and was a bit of a loner. That night a train rolled into the yard Northbound; I couldn't quite see it well enough due to another train in front of it. I rolled up my stuff and headed to the underpass to catch it on the other side. Got up in a Cadillac grainer and it wasn't moving, so I went to sleep. We left in the morning, and to my dismay we were going Southbound. Turns out the engine on what I thought was the the front was a pusher, and I didn't see how many engines there were anyways.
At least I got to see the ride between Casper and Cheyenne in the day time. It was beautiful with the North Platte river and the other river, I don't remember it's name. Just South of Wendover I saw a couple of derailed gondolas, half rusted and buried, with 'Almarez Caused This Derailment' written on one with a paint marker. There were also lots of antiqued car frames along the sides of the rails and roads, filled with rocks and dirt, being used as barriers. 
Back in Cheyenne, we tried our luck waiting for another Northbound. It rained a little, and after three more days I decided we were taking UP Westbound.
Going downtown, I met a few other freight riders. A group of three had just came in from Seattle; one was going to Denver for the DNC and to visit friends. The other two were on their way to California. I went to get some food and ran into another kid, a dirtier one who wanted to drink some beer with me. We got some beer and found a spot on the West side of the yard; he was trying to go East and would ride drunk, so it was good enough. Around 11:00, after drinking too much, I figured I'd go to my Westbound spot and see if I could sober up. I slept and woke up at 4:00AM, but I was still too drunk so I just went back to sleep. The next day I saw the California-bound kids and we decided to hop out together, since we were both headed the same direction. They had a scanner and cell phones, which made it a little easier. We caught some wells in an IM going to Oakland, right where they wanted to be. I got off in Green River in the morning and we wished each other a safe journey.
In Green River I got some beers bought for me at an outdoor music event by a bar and slept by the river. The next day I waited for a GM with plenty of lumber cars between 1:00PM and dark, so I would roll through Pocatello in the early morning. Around 4:30 another freight rider came by and we decided to get some beers. We got a couple of 40s, and when we got back to the spot I was at, there was a Pocatello-bound open boxcar waiting for me. So I scooped up the beer and caught it. I should have left him with one 40, because I don't drink much and they got me lit up. I knew I would be sober by the time I wanted to get off, though; I planned on riding it to Hinkle. 
I was hungover and wanted ice cream in Nampa, though, so I got off and ate some food and ice cream. I bought a new book and went to wait again. We caught a piggyback and I drifted to sleep. 
I woke up in a yard. Damn, I figured I was lucky to be waking up on my own accord, scolding myself for sleeping through stopping in a yard. I thought it was Hinkle, having never been there, so we got off and found a bridge to sleep under, unsure of future weather conditons. The next morning I found out I was in La Grande, Oregon. Some guy cooked me breakfast and I hung out with him while he was having a moving sale for a while. I went to catch out, missed a train wandering around downtown, so I went to the library. I checked my messages and found some devastating news; my friend had just died of a heroin overdose in Portland. I didn't even know if I could catch out in the shock of that news, but I headed to the yard anyways. Nothing rideable came, and I hung out at the skatepark right next to the North end of the yard all day. There were lots of skater/scene kids, who were alright to hang out with. I slept that night and caught an out-of-commission boxcar in the morning, with all the doors open and one welded. In Hinkle I got off because I wanted to go North to Spokane. So we hitched to Pasco, having to walk between Hermiston and Umatilla. We got into Pasco in the dark and wandered around a bit trying to find the yard. By the time we got there my feet were hurting, my shoulders were hurting due to my heavy pack. An IM train came through for a crew change, but it took so long and there was nowhere to hide, all I could do was walk up and down the train waiting for the brakes to air up. After about a half and hour I gave up; I had to sleep. We walked and walked; one side of the highway was an airport, the other side was the yard. Eventually they split and there was a ConAgra foods, with a bit of open space in the middle, and a big stack of hay bales. We bedded down next to the hay bales, but were in full sight, so I figured I'd get woken up by someone. After a restless night of paranoia I packed up and planned to go hitch North; I was too paranoid about having nowhere to hide and all the people that could see me hopping on. 
However, walking back past the yard a coal train pulled up, and the rear units were right next to me, so I hid behind a sign for a while; not really hidden, but at least behind something. When the train started to move I abandoned my water jug knowing I'd have water in the unit, grabbed my dog under my arm and ran. Unfortunately, there was a metal cable I didn't see between me and the road. I tripped, fell facefirst with the weight of my pack and my dog under my arm. I jumped to my feet, however, still holding my dog, waited for a car to pass and ran across to the units. I first tried jumping on with one hand, but I couldn't pull everything up there with one arm. I dropped back down, dropped my dog, picked him back up again and threw him up the stairs. He hates units, so he was dead stuck on the second stair. I jumped up on the first one and shoved him the rest of the way, then drug him across the walkway and we squeezed through the door.
Somewhere about 30 miles North of Pasco the train stopped for a while. After an hour or so I popped my head up to see through the windows and there was a van and a truck coming on the tracks, with another truck coming along the road. I figured I was caught and just hid for another hour. Nobody came in, though, and another hour or so later the train started moving. One quick stop for a siding south of Lind and the next stop was in Spokane. I was excited about it stopping, and there were workers in the yard, not to mention my stubborn dog, so I forgot my nice leather cowboy hat.
I luckily got to ride the bus to the North end of town and then hitched to my mom's house 70 miles north of Spokane.
The end.


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## marc (Aug 30, 2008)

did you ever hang out at the camp menace to sobriety while you were at the gathering?


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## Poking Victim (Aug 31, 2008)

I stopped by. Seemed like a lot of douches. I don't want to hang out anywhere with plastic in the fire.


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## marc (Sep 1, 2008)

i might have met you then, thats where i was camped.


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## Labea (Sep 1, 2008)

who died?


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## Poking Victim (Sep 1, 2008)

Labea said:


> who died?



A friend of mine I have traveled with around the Northwest. You don't know him.


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## pola negri (Sep 2, 2008)

Hi, this is Victoria, one of the high-tech hoboes you met in Cheyenne. It was nice to read this and get the update. I'm sorry to hear about your friend. C and I ended up in Pasco too - I got dragged along by a train there and that was fun. We miss your dog and too bad about the cowboy hat.


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