rails2rails
Well-known member
Let's try this again and correctly.
I've been thining about the east coast lately, so I will share a story. It's not recent or even my best but one of my favs.
I was returning from the Chicago Blues Festival in mid June. One of the few authentic (i.e. no white guys playing acoustic guitar) blues fests and certainly the biggest. Always a great time. I wasn't in no hurry to get home so I skipped Bedford Park, NS, etc. and headed for Barr. As usual stopped by Broasted Chicken where I've never had a problem and went under the bridge. I'm amazed that "Chessie" took so long to discover what was going on under that bridge. I finally got an eastbound man. Back then, there were a few trains that went all the way to Cumberland, now I believe there's only one, otherwise say hello to Willard if you stay on the B&O.
Made decent time to "cuke" for a mixed, bailed just before the yard, grabbed a bite, a few supplies and made my way to the beautiful Potomac for a siesta. Made my way to the dep.yd. right beside Rt.51 and found the venerable 401, I like that train.
All aboard, next stop Brunswick. Made it there just after 9pm. The 401 always sits for a couple hours, even if there's a crew swap.
I was hot,sweaty and needed a leg stretch so I bailed and headed for the campground to shower and top off water. A nice long shower refreshed me for the final leg home. I headed into town,trying to make the convenience store jut up the hill from the MARC station. Grabbed some munchies and had a brief chat. Then I stopped by the bar across and up from the station for a quick cold one and more chatter(I was drinking in those days). Then back to the C&O Canal Towpath to go get back on 401. Rolling into town, I had noticed a couple of guys hunkered down in the weeds, I looked for them on my return but nada. I always reboard a different car if possible in these situations, makes sense to me. I was just sitting on a grainer deck when out of nowhere some guy was at my car. I didn't even hear ballast cruching. Even when I was green you couldn't sneak up on me but not this time. The guy was speaking Spanish, all he said was agua,por favor, agua. All i was thinking about is "where's your partner?". I shouted out "donde esta amigo" DONDE ESTA AMIGO? I held out a hand palm first to indicate don't come any closer, clutching self-defense in the other in shadows. He wanted water, I wanted an answer. It seemed like a stalemate, I decided the best thing to do was leave. I did learn that he or they had managed to make it from TX to MD. I told him I would try to get him water. He looked dehydrated and defeated that I refused him water initially. I try to help people out but only if they play by my rules and sizing them up is far more important to me. I did hear por favor, and that's everything. You ain't gettin' shit from me until I see some common courtesy and respect. I couldn't care less if you're illegal or not.
Back then, B-wick was one of my "home yards", those that I frequented on a semi-regular basis. I kept caches of food,water, and self-defense buried in such locales. I went and dug up 2 liters, continued to keep an eye out for the mystery man. I made a point of sneaking up on Senor thirsty so he would know that I know what's up. My wilderness survival training comes in handy out on the road sometimes. The guy ended up being extremely grateful and just about finished the 2 liters, presumably screwing his buddy. Gracias,gracias! De nada..... To finally dispatch him, I said something about "la migra" and pointed back towards the tower. I went an extra mile and pretended to get off because of it, heading back to the public road. As soon as he was back in the woods, I boarded yet another car. Soon I was rolling.
The next consideration was where I might be getting off. Trains can stop or slow down anywhere in Montgomery County or not at all, especially in the wee hours. It's a toss up. We blew right through monkey county and into the "security corridor" of NE D.C. Finally we began to slow down and nearing the Rhode Island Ave. Metro station, at a crawl. We stopped right beside the station, but I still had to climb the fence the separates the mainline from public streets.
Wait! What's that down in the shadows 50 feet farther, it looks like an open gate. I have been through here so many times by transit or freight, literally hundreds of times. I've never seen an open gate along here when I've been looking for it. I bailed, went through the gate and was at the Metro in less than 3 minutes I bet. It was still very early a.m. and the station hadn't even opened yet. I waited on a bus bench for awhile. I caught the first red line train of the new day and was home in about an hour.
In those days I worked as a bike messenger in D.C. Busted my ass and made good iron. I had independent contractor status and by law was to set my own working hours and ignore managements attempts to bully me as an employee, telling me when to work and where to shit. Screw that. I had taken several days off to go to Chi-town and what not. I wasn't even scheduled to work for another couple of days. It was still early a.m and I was wound up from the trip home, couldn't sleep. I decided to call the office and see what's up. Was told they knew they were going to be short handed that day. I told them I was back early and could come to work if they made it worth my time. Those guys owed me, i had bailed them out more than once and made sure they didn't forget. Later that morning I was given what was then known as a "hill bomb". I seriously doubt anyone would use that term now in DC. A hill bomb was put out by PR firms mostly, a envelop to each and every member of congress. 435 in the house, 100 in the senate. The client was charged 2 bucks a room and my cut was 52%. A lot of guys would take all day to do it or want to go home afterwards, having made a cool 500 in 2.5 hours. That's just how you lose your FOD status. I was greedy and doing the right thing. I busted my ass all day and didn't get home until almost 7. Big money day.
A wild and woolly trip but always interesting and unexpected, as per usual.
I've been thining about the east coast lately, so I will share a story. It's not recent or even my best but one of my favs.
I was returning from the Chicago Blues Festival in mid June. One of the few authentic (i.e. no white guys playing acoustic guitar) blues fests and certainly the biggest. Always a great time. I wasn't in no hurry to get home so I skipped Bedford Park, NS, etc. and headed for Barr. As usual stopped by Broasted Chicken where I've never had a problem and went under the bridge. I'm amazed that "Chessie" took so long to discover what was going on under that bridge. I finally got an eastbound man. Back then, there were a few trains that went all the way to Cumberland, now I believe there's only one, otherwise say hello to Willard if you stay on the B&O.
Made decent time to "cuke" for a mixed, bailed just before the yard, grabbed a bite, a few supplies and made my way to the beautiful Potomac for a siesta. Made my way to the dep.yd. right beside Rt.51 and found the venerable 401, I like that train.
All aboard, next stop Brunswick. Made it there just after 9pm. The 401 always sits for a couple hours, even if there's a crew swap.
I was hot,sweaty and needed a leg stretch so I bailed and headed for the campground to shower and top off water. A nice long shower refreshed me for the final leg home. I headed into town,trying to make the convenience store jut up the hill from the MARC station. Grabbed some munchies and had a brief chat. Then I stopped by the bar across and up from the station for a quick cold one and more chatter(I was drinking in those days). Then back to the C&O Canal Towpath to go get back on 401. Rolling into town, I had noticed a couple of guys hunkered down in the weeds, I looked for them on my return but nada. I always reboard a different car if possible in these situations, makes sense to me. I was just sitting on a grainer deck when out of nowhere some guy was at my car. I didn't even hear ballast cruching. Even when I was green you couldn't sneak up on me but not this time. The guy was speaking Spanish, all he said was agua,por favor, agua. All i was thinking about is "where's your partner?". I shouted out "donde esta amigo" DONDE ESTA AMIGO? I held out a hand palm first to indicate don't come any closer, clutching self-defense in the other in shadows. He wanted water, I wanted an answer. It seemed like a stalemate, I decided the best thing to do was leave. I did learn that he or they had managed to make it from TX to MD. I told him I would try to get him water. He looked dehydrated and defeated that I refused him water initially. I try to help people out but only if they play by my rules and sizing them up is far more important to me. I did hear por favor, and that's everything. You ain't gettin' shit from me until I see some common courtesy and respect. I couldn't care less if you're illegal or not.
Back then, B-wick was one of my "home yards", those that I frequented on a semi-regular basis. I kept caches of food,water, and self-defense buried in such locales. I went and dug up 2 liters, continued to keep an eye out for the mystery man. I made a point of sneaking up on Senor thirsty so he would know that I know what's up. My wilderness survival training comes in handy out on the road sometimes. The guy ended up being extremely grateful and just about finished the 2 liters, presumably screwing his buddy. Gracias,gracias! De nada..... To finally dispatch him, I said something about "la migra" and pointed back towards the tower. I went an extra mile and pretended to get off because of it, heading back to the public road. As soon as he was back in the woods, I boarded yet another car. Soon I was rolling.
The next consideration was where I might be getting off. Trains can stop or slow down anywhere in Montgomery County or not at all, especially in the wee hours. It's a toss up. We blew right through monkey county and into the "security corridor" of NE D.C. Finally we began to slow down and nearing the Rhode Island Ave. Metro station, at a crawl. We stopped right beside the station, but I still had to climb the fence the separates the mainline from public streets.
Wait! What's that down in the shadows 50 feet farther, it looks like an open gate. I have been through here so many times by transit or freight, literally hundreds of times. I've never seen an open gate along here when I've been looking for it. I bailed, went through the gate and was at the Metro in less than 3 minutes I bet. It was still very early a.m. and the station hadn't even opened yet. I waited on a bus bench for awhile. I caught the first red line train of the new day and was home in about an hour.
In those days I worked as a bike messenger in D.C. Busted my ass and made good iron. I had independent contractor status and by law was to set my own working hours and ignore managements attempts to bully me as an employee, telling me when to work and where to shit. Screw that. I had taken several days off to go to Chi-town and what not. I wasn't even scheduled to work for another couple of days. It was still early a.m and I was wound up from the trip home, couldn't sleep. I decided to call the office and see what's up. Was told they knew they were going to be short handed that day. I told them I was back early and could come to work if they made it worth my time. Those guys owed me, i had bailed them out more than once and made sure they didn't forget. Later that morning I was given what was then known as a "hill bomb". I seriously doubt anyone would use that term now in DC. A hill bomb was put out by PR firms mostly, a envelop to each and every member of congress. 435 in the house, 100 in the senate. The client was charged 2 bucks a room and my cut was 52%. A lot of guys would take all day to do it or want to go home afterwards, having made a cool 500 in 2.5 hours. That's just how you lose your FOD status. I was greedy and doing the right thing. I busted my ass all day and didn't get home until almost 7. Big money day.
A wild and woolly trip but always interesting and unexpected, as per usual.
