Westbound...

It began like so many of my other travels, watching the sun rise in the train yard that might as well been my second home. I couldn't fathom how many times I had been here, waiting for that train that would take me to new far away places.

Three friends had accompanied me this time, my good friend Fodi, who I always considered our traveling ninja companion. Darkstar, our incredibly Irish dread-locked drunk and finally, Ferg, a friend of ours that looked somewhat like a wilderbeast at the time and always made me laugh. I couldn't have been happier with my traveling crew. And so we sat there waiting for a northbound junk train. The plan was simple. We would hop a train north to West Philly, where we would wait at the oil cans for the southbound hotshot to Chicago that stopped there every night at 10:30. From there my friend Natasha would pick us up and take us to Michigan. After visiting some friends there, we would continue to the west coast, and from there... well, we really hadn't planned that far ahead yet.

Our train rolled into the yard as it always did around the late morning, and we took our time finding a nice boxcar to settle down in before the train pulled out of the yard. As the train moved into upper Maryland our spirits were high, we had a solid plan, and Ferg and Darkstar were dancing around the boxcar celebrating the start of their first train ride.

I knew this ride like the back of my hand. My favorite part of this ride arrived as we began to cross the Sesquehana River. It feels like you're flying a hundred feet above the water when you cross this river, which is even more spectacular at night. There is a highway bridge on each side of you, and you can watch the lights of traffic on each side of you going by like a highway of fireflies in the distance.

We continued on into Delaware and stopped a few miles outside the Wilmington train yard. While we sat waiting for the train to continue on its way, a railroad worker drove down the set of tracks to the left of us. I suddenly spotted it, although a bit late, and everyone ducked inside the boxcar. After a few tense moments, the truck slowed to a stop outside our car. Followed by two quick honks of the truck's horn. "Shit," I said. "Stay here."

I grabbed my pack and hopped off the train. The window of the truck rolled down to be greeted by a "Get the hell off there man, you're gonna kill yourself. We just had a derailment not too long ago, and you're gonna end up dead on there." To which of course I responded with what I've found to be absolutely the best response you can give when caught on a train by a railworker.

"Sorry man, I hope I didn't cause you any trouble." I swear by this. Because somehow it always seems to solicit the same friendly response:

"It's alright. You didn't cause me any problems." He continued with, "There's a road about a mile up the tracks you can hitch a ride from." I thanked him as he drove back up the tracks. I walked along the side of the train towards the road he spoke of until his truck was out of view. I was surprised he thought I was the only one on the boxcar.

Everyone poked their head out of the car, and seemed to debate what we should do next. "Fuck it man," I said. "I'm getting back on the train." It was a ballsy tactic that had worked for me several times before. I'd get pulled off a train, walk into the woods, and wait until the railworkers/bulls were out of sight and jump back on the train as it powered up to leave. It hadn't failed me yet...

I took a picture before the train took off, and a half an hour later we were in Wilmington, Delaware. The train slowed to a halt and one of the workers in the yard poked his head into our boxcar. Dammit. This time they were expecting us and their response was not very friendly. All I really remember is walking as fast as we could out of the yard while the workers were yelling at us to get the hell out of the yard before they called the cops. We finally walked a round-a-bouts way to the north end of the yard where we hid in a tunnel made for a creek that ran underneath the tracks.

We dropped our gear, resting in the cool breeze of the tunnel. Ferg built a fire and I pulled out our cooking gear to make some food while we decided what to do next. After devouring some refried beans, somebody remembered that our friend Harvey had been in this same situation in this yard once, and that he had taken an Amtrak train up to Philly for $4.75. Spending money on Amtrak seemed like a better alternative than waiting around in a yard that was waiting for us to come back, and was notorious (in my opinion) for taking forever for a train to come through. About two hours later we popped up at the 30th St. and Market Station in Philadelphia. We walked down 49th St. to the oil cans and crashed out after what had been a very long day.

The next morning we wandered around West Philly, scoring huge meals from the trash cans of the Penn State University. College kids are so wasteful... and while walking down Walnut St. someone asked us if we wanted ice cream. We figured sure, he's gonna buy us a few ice cream cones or something. Following him into the Baskin Robins, he handed us a five gallon container of ice cream! And then another! Apparently the store was closing for good, and it all just had to go! It was a hot as hell day, so we ate ice cream in the shade until we nearly puked! Still a little sick from the ice cream with 7 more gallons to go and no one to give it to, we did some ice cream surfing. We spent the rest of the day hanging out at the campus bookstore (which has a liberal return policy) and finally returned to the oil cans to await our 10:30p train.

We waited till the wee hours of the morning for our train. It never showed up. Not to be deterred, we repeated our routine of trashpicking, book returns, and loitering. We returned to the oil cans once again, and eventually fell asleep. I awoke with a start in the morning to a hotshot slowing to a stop for about 20 seconds before it sped off again. Shit...

On our fourth day in Philly we waited by the tracks into the late evening. Everyone was completely bored out of their skulls, Fodi and Ferg were talking about giving up and going back to Baltimore, while Darkstar and I weren't going anywhere but west, even if we had to wait another week for a train. Overall morale seemed pretty low. So I thought, 'what makes every Baltimore kid happy?' ... hmmm... well, beer of course! So after returning from the liquor store with a few 40's, we got way more trashed than we should have. Oops. Missed our train again cause we were passed out drunk.

Going on day five now, still sitting beside the tracks. But that night, there was an interesting twist. We ran down the tracks next to a stopped train looking for a rideable car. My pack was bouncing heavily on my back and I was sweating bullets. Checking each car for a well we could ride in, our hearts fell at every car. Finally it was too late and we watched as the train rode off into the night, the flashing red light at the end mocking us. But there was something different now. Looking around, I saw not the three silhouettes I had expected, but four. Confused, I said, "Um. Hey. We have an extra person."

"Matt Pist..." a voice said somewhat disbelievingly.

"Reese?" It was her, my old friend that I hadn't spoken to in like nine months. Not since the argument. I thought she hated me. "How's it going?"

Reese was I girl that I had met when I used to live at 1503 squat down the street. She had changed a lot since then, she had a drullet now (a dreaded mullet if you know what that is) to accompany her piercings and she had moved from talking a lot about doing graffiti to actually becoming a really good graff artist. We walked back to the oil cans and while everyone else went to sleep we talked and laughed until the sun rose. We talked about the fight, and we settled our differences. I suddenly felt a lot better about being in Philly. Talking to her, I couldn't help thinking that my train wasn't supposed to come until I saw her again. That there was a reason I had been here for the past five days and this was it. The next morning I awoke and she was gone like some kind of dream.

By this time Ferg and Fodi gave up on their plans for the west coast and hopped back to Baltimore and it was up to me and Darkstar to continue west, refusing to be defeated. Later that night we ran into Reese again and she hung out with us by the tracks while we waited for our train. A few hours later a hotshot grinded to a halt directly in front of us and we bolted for the first piggyback we saw. My heart was pounding. This was our train. I was sure of it. Darkstar climbed on as the train started to move forward! I said, "Hurry up!" Darkstar's bag was caught on the mudflap of the trailer, and he was struggling to get on so I could follow. He finally got on while dropping our bag of food at the same time. "I got it!" I said, swooping it up from the ground. By this time the train was moving so fast that I wasn't sure if I'd make it. Running alongside the train I grabbed at the ladder and pulled myself onto the pig. I thought to myself, 'Christ, that was a close one...'

I stuck my head out the side of the car to see Reese slowly getting smaller in the distance. "Bye Reese!" I yelled, waving at her and I wondered if she could hear me. It was exactly the kind of exit I love to make.