It was the summer of 1998, and I was at my peak of alcohol consumption.
I had ridden into the town of Keokuk, Iowa from Chicago on an empty boxcar. Right away, I found a day labor job tearing shingles from the roof of an elderly couples home. I worked hard for four days, and very glad I had done so, since I desperatally needed new travel gear.
I was happy and surprised to find a terrific army surplus store on my fifth day where I bought a nice bedroll, backpack, camo britches and another canteen; all for $95.00. I had made up my mind to catch out later on that day, since I was restless as could be!
I caught a BNSF freight train from Keokuk's small switching yard up to Ottumwa, Iowa, then took the BNSF from Ottumwa to "Stinkin" Lincoln, Nebraska.
Once I rolled into Lincoln, I had to hop a different BNSF freight north to Fremont, Nebraska in order to switch over to the Union Pacific Railroad. Once in Fremont, I hopped west and made my way to Cheyenne, Wyoming, all while drinking one and a half liters of liquor per day, the entire trip! (Not stumbling-drunk, being that my tollerence was so high by now; nobody really even knew I had been drinking, unless they got downwind of me, then they got drunk themselves).
This is the UP tower in Cheyenne, WY. The BNSF yard is roughly three miles from this point.
Once in Cheyenne, I had to walk from the UP yards, to the BNSF overpass west of town. This is the direction to walk in order to catch-out on that Powder River run that takes you up into the Bighorn Mountains and Sheep Canyon, and takes you right by the worlds largest hot springs mineral pool between Casper and Greybull! It's an awesomely beautiful ride if you can enjoy it, but this soon would not be the case!
It sure was a tough walk, since my shaking was so bad from being dried out alcohol-wise. Four blocks from the BNSF switching yard, I entered a frequently-shopped liquor store and bough another half gallon of vodka for the trip that lie ahead.
At the north end of the BNSF yard, under catch out bridge, I sat and took myself a strong drink right from the bottle. I felt terrible!
Before this swallow had started its journey through the lining of my esophogus and small intestine, and into my bloodstream, I had not had a drink for an entire day! I was surprised I was able to purchase this bottle without dropping it on the floor because of my severe shakiness, being I had gone almost 24 hours by now without a single drink of ethanol.
Thirty minutes had passed when a north bound train rolled into the yard. The train crew had their crew change, then started rolling again. As it rolled passed me, I was hid behind the bridge pillar of the last overpass before entering the Airforse base property. I waited until the locomotive units made their way past me, then I jumped in an empty boxcar. I sat my backpack down in the corner of the boxcar and went for another drink of vodka. Oh, no! My vodka had not made the train as I had! Where was it?! Oh, no! Oh God! "Son of a fucking-ass bitch"! Where is my bottle of mother fucking booze?! Oh, no! God fucking damn!
My half-G had fallen from my backpack while I had jumped into the boxcar! At this point, I had now only had two ounces of alcohol in 24 hours! I was in big trouble! My train now was rolling too fast to hop off and resue my dearly beloved bottle!
I had heard of the DT's before, but had never experienced them. Two hours hadn't passed when the unthinkable started to happen! I thought two guys were trying to steal my gear while inside the boxcar, and were plotting to kill me! (I was, of course the only one inside the boxcar).
I managed to make it through Wendover, and Casper by huddling in the corner of the boxcar on top of my backpack crying the entire distance before realizing what was possibly going on with me medically! By the time I rolled into Greybull township for our crew change, I was in terrible shape!
Once in Greybull, I ran to a little store on the main drag, called the police and told them about the two men plotting to kill me and take my gear! Two officers came to the store and asked me all kinds of questions like, "Who were these guys? Am I taking or not taking any medications?" After a search of the area brought up nothing, the one cop asked me, "When was the last time that I had consumed any alcohol?" I told him when I last had a drink, and how much. That's when he confirmed my own suspicion about what was going on inside my sweaty, shaky and terrified body!
The cops took me to the local hospital 25 miles away in the town of Worland to the south.
The emergency room doctor hooked an IV line to my arm and pumped in vitamins and fluids. To stop the DT's, I was given an injection of Valium, but not before giving me a shot of Haldol in the left ass-cheek to dull the delirious state I was in!
After the most horrific DT's were under control, I was admitted upstairs into the detox unit.
It took nearly five days to get me on my feet and back out on a freight train again!
The DT's have happened to me only two other times after that, but not as bad. So, I guess liquor was the real culprit, because never have I had this problem from drinking just plain ass fucking beer.
Every time I pass through Greybull, Casper, Cheyenne, and Laurel, I get this funky reminder that moves me emotionally because of what happened that time!
God I am so glad that I stopped drinking December 2nd, 2006.
I had ridden into the town of Keokuk, Iowa from Chicago on an empty boxcar. Right away, I found a day labor job tearing shingles from the roof of an elderly couples home. I worked hard for four days, and very glad I had done so, since I desperatally needed new travel gear.
I was happy and surprised to find a terrific army surplus store on my fifth day where I bought a nice bedroll, backpack, camo britches and another canteen; all for $95.00. I had made up my mind to catch out later on that day, since I was restless as could be!
I caught a BNSF freight train from Keokuk's small switching yard up to Ottumwa, Iowa, then took the BNSF from Ottumwa to "Stinkin" Lincoln, Nebraska.
Once I rolled into Lincoln, I had to hop a different BNSF freight north to Fremont, Nebraska in order to switch over to the Union Pacific Railroad. Once in Fremont, I hopped west and made my way to Cheyenne, Wyoming, all while drinking one and a half liters of liquor per day, the entire trip! (Not stumbling-drunk, being that my tollerence was so high by now; nobody really even knew I had been drinking, unless they got downwind of me, then they got drunk themselves).
This is the UP tower in Cheyenne, WY. The BNSF yard is roughly three miles from this point.
Once in Cheyenne, I had to walk from the UP yards, to the BNSF overpass west of town. This is the direction to walk in order to catch-out on that Powder River run that takes you up into the Bighorn Mountains and Sheep Canyon, and takes you right by the worlds largest hot springs mineral pool between Casper and Greybull! It's an awesomely beautiful ride if you can enjoy it, but this soon would not be the case!
It sure was a tough walk, since my shaking was so bad from being dried out alcohol-wise. Four blocks from the BNSF switching yard, I entered a frequently-shopped liquor store and bough another half gallon of vodka for the trip that lie ahead.
At the north end of the BNSF yard, under catch out bridge, I sat and took myself a strong drink right from the bottle. I felt terrible!
Before this swallow had started its journey through the lining of my esophogus and small intestine, and into my bloodstream, I had not had a drink for an entire day! I was surprised I was able to purchase this bottle without dropping it on the floor because of my severe shakiness, being I had gone almost 24 hours by now without a single drink of ethanol.
Thirty minutes had passed when a north bound train rolled into the yard. The train crew had their crew change, then started rolling again. As it rolled passed me, I was hid behind the bridge pillar of the last overpass before entering the Airforse base property. I waited until the locomotive units made their way past me, then I jumped in an empty boxcar. I sat my backpack down in the corner of the boxcar and went for another drink of vodka. Oh, no! My vodka had not made the train as I had! Where was it?! Oh, no! Oh God! "Son of a fucking-ass bitch"! Where is my bottle of mother fucking booze?! Oh, no! God fucking damn!
My half-G had fallen from my backpack while I had jumped into the boxcar! At this point, I had now only had two ounces of alcohol in 24 hours! I was in big trouble! My train now was rolling too fast to hop off and resue my dearly beloved bottle!
I had heard of the DT's before, but had never experienced them. Two hours hadn't passed when the unthinkable started to happen! I thought two guys were trying to steal my gear while inside the boxcar, and were plotting to kill me! (I was, of course the only one inside the boxcar).
I managed to make it through Wendover, and Casper by huddling in the corner of the boxcar on top of my backpack crying the entire distance before realizing what was possibly going on with me medically! By the time I rolled into Greybull township for our crew change, I was in terrible shape!
Once in Greybull, I ran to a little store on the main drag, called the police and told them about the two men plotting to kill me and take my gear! Two officers came to the store and asked me all kinds of questions like, "Who were these guys? Am I taking or not taking any medications?" After a search of the area brought up nothing, the one cop asked me, "When was the last time that I had consumed any alcohol?" I told him when I last had a drink, and how much. That's when he confirmed my own suspicion about what was going on inside my sweaty, shaky and terrified body!
The cops took me to the local hospital 25 miles away in the town of Worland to the south.
The emergency room doctor hooked an IV line to my arm and pumped in vitamins and fluids. To stop the DT's, I was given an injection of Valium, but not before giving me a shot of Haldol in the left ass-cheek to dull the delirious state I was in!
After the most horrific DT's were under control, I was admitted upstairs into the detox unit.
It took nearly five days to get me on my feet and back out on a freight train again!
The DT's have happened to me only two other times after that, but not as bad. So, I guess liquor was the real culprit, because never have I had this problem from drinking just plain ass fucking beer.
Every time I pass through Greybull, Casper, Cheyenne, and Laurel, I get this funky reminder that moves me emotionally because of what happened that time!
God I am so glad that I stopped drinking December 2nd, 2006.
