# My First Ride



## Dameon (Jun 25, 2008)

It's late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it. My road dawg Booger is sound asleep, but I have to bounce up and watch every time a southbound comes through. The idea is to catch a train from Portland to Eugene, then hitch from there to Mutant Fest.

"Are we catching that one?" I've asked several times. Booger knows even without opening his eyes that we don't want any of these. Finally, I manage to calm down enough to wrap myself in my sleeping bag and snooze. The sun's shining when I wake up, and a southbound is crawling down the tracks at slower than walking speed.

We're both packed in seconds, and running for it. I didn't want to catch on the fly, but now I just want to get on the damn train. Booger jumps on a car, and yells for me to grab the next one down. I jump on and hide myself as best I can, considering the car has no real nooks and crannies for me to conceal myself well. My heart is pounding, and I can't believe I've finally done it.

The train stops. Then, it begins backing up toward the yard.

"Oi!" comes the cry, and I look around the car toward the front of the car. "It's pulling back into the yard! Let's get off!" I throw my gear off and follow it, and we retreat back to our catch out spot, watching the train, which continues going in reverse. In a moment or two, it stops.

"What do you think?" Booger asks. "You want to wait for another one, or try this one?" He's leaving me room to back out, since it's my first time.

"Fuck it," I say. "Let's do it." This time, having watched the train, we've found a grainer with one of those nice cubbyholes. Booger gets on first, and we get our gear into the cubbyhole and follow it, tucking ourselves in so we can't be seen from outside.

The next 20 minutes is confusing and harrying; every time the train starts to pick up speed, it stops and reverses toward the yard. I try not to agonize myself over possibilities, and focus on the fact that no matter what, I at least got on a train.

Finally, the train really gets moving, and this time it's obvious there won't be anymore reverse bullshit. We wait until we're out past the suburbs of Portland and into the country, and crawl out. The scenery is beautiful, and I crack open a celebratory beer. I'm already convinced that this is the way I want to travel. We wave at cars waiting for the train to pass, even though I know it's dangerous for them to see me, because I'm too exuberant to hide from them. I'm amused by how many of them are simply staring off into space and never even notice the grinning dirty train kids going right by their faces.

We tuck into cold cans of chili and ravioli as the sun works its way westward. The ride isn't exceptional; the scenery is beautiful, but not abnormally so. The grainer is a nice ride, but not as cool as the boxcar I'd hoped for. Still, I'm enjoying it more than traveling by airplane, Amtrak, car, or walking.

As the train slows to walking speed approaching the Eugene yard, we hop off well away from town, and chuckle at the bull just outside the yard watching the train. A five mile walk into town is a small price to pay for such a great trip.

I can't wait to do it again.


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## derekja (Jun 25, 2008)

congrats!


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## Dameon (Jun 25, 2008)

Yup, I believe so. Not in the yard itself, but close to it.


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## bryanpaul (Jun 25, 2008)

right on man...... yeah not so smart to wave at cars, but i cant say i havent done it too, seems like at the beginning of every ride i'm all sneaky and ninja and shit and by the end i'm just not giving much of a fuck....oh well.......good job keep learnin and have fun and be safe


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## veggieguy12 (Jul 28, 2008)

Thanks for telling your story, Dameon.
My first ride was a little less fun. And a lot less productive.
I hitched into Portland from Eugene, was about 8pm in cold late January. I called a few friends, and the only one who answered had a few visitors staying with him already, so I walked through downtown and boarded a Max tram, exiting at the Rose Quarter.
I wanted to keep moving to my destination city, so I thought I'd just sleep in the bushes and catch a train if one comes. I had no Crew Change, and hadn't seen any maps of the lines, so I was shooting in the dark.
I walk toward the eastern side of the Steel Bridge, and go over that rail, down the hill of bushes, and just as I'm getting to the bottom where it levels out, I hear a whistle, see the intense headlight coming. Perfect, I think.
As the engine passes, I'm looking for an empty boxcar, and when I see a couple down the line, I move up closer to the train. At the same time, another guy, wearing all black with just a lil' schoolbag on his back comes out of the cover, about 50 feet away from me; he's looking at the train and keeps his back to me, so I don't think he knew I was there. Anyway, I see him go into the first open box, and then I go for the next one, throwing my bag in and then boosting up. It's 9pm.
I tuck away into the corner and throw on some warmth; dirty clothes come out of the bag and go on top of the clean clothes I'm wearing: socks, shirt, shirt. And after an hour, I lay out my bedroll and get in my sleeping bag. I guess it was a lil' chilly that night.
Well, I watched my compass go East (Aw, that's not good!) and then North (Hey, maybe this is okay.) and NE; and every time I'd doze off, the train would soon stop and I'd jump awake, pack my bag, and prepare to get out. I didn't know if somebody was going to come looking for me, or if my boxcar was going to be cut-out and left on the tracks. At one of these sidings I went a few cars from my own in both directions, hoping to find that dude, but he probably got off when we didn't turn south.
So, ten hours later, I awaken as the train is creeping along. Sun is out, I'm looking out on a yard of many tracks, and then we're stopped. I see workers walking along; there's a truck parked at the edge of my view through the open door. Deciding to wait until the workers leave before exiting keeps me standing against the wall in the boxcar for the next hour, and then just after 8am, fellow pops his head in. "Mornin'!" I say.
He asks me where I'm headed, and I ask where I am (which you may by now have figured): Hinkle yard. "About 10 miles from the Washington border, and 200 miles from Idaho, 200 miles out of Portland." And he tells me that if I want something West I need to go around the yard and to the other side, so I jump over many tracks and some of the car joints and make it over a lil' hill/ridge, which, if you know Hinkle, that's about all there is around the tracks. So I clear the hill and then I'm walking up this dirt road with tire tracks and horse hoofprints, and I walk for a while then go up on the ridge again to overlook the yard. Ahead of me is a 5-foot chain cutting vehicular access to the dirt road, and on the other side is a white pickup truck. About five minutes later a blue Ford Explorer-type SUV rolls up, and I can see it coming from a ways away, but I figure it's a local. Turns out to be the UP railcop.
He tells me I'm still on railroad property, and that I can either go to jail or get a ticket. Since there seems to be no benefit to getting locked-up, I opt for the ticket. As he's writing it, he tells me that it's a misdemeanor, so even if they issue a warrant, I won't be extradited from another state (and he knows I'm an outta-towner by my FL license); seemed to me he was telling me just to not caught out here again. And then, before we're done, some old dude walks up with a shotgun broken over his shoulder, and a couple dead ducks and a couple decoy ducks. So the cop stops him and tickets him for trespassing too. The white pickup belongs to the old hunter, who I ask for a lift to town.
He gives me a ride only about a mile, and I walk the other mile or two to a truck stop, where I make a Portland sign, and while sitting in the Subway area, refilling my water bottle, a trucker offers me a ride. He mumbles and speaks so quietly, that I'm constantly asking "What?" until I decide to just nod and ambivalently agree to everything he mutters: "Mmhm" and "Yeah".
About four and a half hours later (overly long ride), he lets me out in Troutdale, and after a bus ride to downtown, I spend another couple days in Portland, scoring a CCG and learning what I really needed to know before boarding at the Steel Bridge area: you can't get a SBD or EBD departure to Seattle!
Live & learn.


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## Dameon (Aug 2, 2008)

Wow, that's a shitty first time. At least you scored a CCG; I still have yet to get one. I guess going with somebody who knows what they're doing your first time out really does make all the difference.


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## Karalaine (Sep 17, 2010)

hahaha booger tried to take me on my first train out of pdx too, and failed epically, (but u kno this whistler cuz we talked about it on a different slightly more succesful train). but between getting stuck in the NW yard, picking up weird runaway kids, having to jump over a dozen knuckles by myself my first time negotiating a yard, cuz he ditched me. im glad boog didnt take my freight cherry. runaway kids got busted i made it out no problem and ended up taking my first real ride by myself a couple weeks later out of bend, and it was fucking amazing.


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