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Part 1;
Autumn 2006 Roseville. I was coming up on a red signal at Atkinson, which is the signal in front of the Roseville yard office at the small road crossing. I went after some air (initial set of air to the train brakes) and I was ready to meet the next crew who would relieve us of our eastbound stacks. I'd let them fight that mountain to Sparks, my tour of duty was over. I think I've pulled to a stop at that same signal a couple hundred times or more. This evening was the first time I ever happened to turn my head to the left and just look out into a field that's always been right there.
There was a beautiful large oak tree that seemed to have lost it's leaves long ago. Under it stood six figures, four male and two female. They had banjos, fiddles, guitars and horns. I couldn't begin to guess what sort of music they'd be making down there, they looked like they'd been traveling some, their clothes were shot to hell. I went after another three to four pounds of air so I could stop even with these tramps and have a listen. My train squatted right down and stopped right where I wanted it to. I asked the conductor to open his window, still I couldn't make out anything over the loud locomotives and dispatcher 57 on the radio.
I stepped out on the front platform and leaned up against the grab iron, lit a clove (yes I'm stuck in the early 90's, get stuffed if you think it's fruity) and I still couldn't hear much. I decided once the relief crew showed up and we got our Renzenberger back in to the yard office I'd tie up (clock out and leave) and go down to that field and introduce myself. I drove east on Atkinson towards Roseville market and followed the curve to the right, made my first left and followed the short street into a culdesac. I locked up my 1964 nova, found an opening in the cyclone fence and proceeded down through waist high weeds.
As I got close a couple of them noticed me and it seemed they were uneasy and not sure what I was going to say. I was wearing overalls and fit the look of a worker, I even wore a DC cap that had a military type style with a shorter bill which almost looks like an engineers cap. They knew I was a worker and I think they were concerned I might have something shitty to say. I introduced myself, told them I just brought that train there on two track in from Oakland. They seemed friendly and introduced themselves as Barnabus Jones, Alynda Lee, Shaye Cohn, Todd Burdick, Sherman the fiddler, and Tim on the accordion.
They called themselves the Dead Man Street Orchestra. They too had just come out of Oakland and were aiming on Portland OR. to make the Mutant Fest in a few days. They told me some of their group had to split up in order to get over the road and some had fallen behind some distance they were unsure. Corey, Ian, and Sophie I believe were the missing party. I sat down there in the dirt and we got to talking trains. I can talk trains all day long if you'll let me. I'm not a foamer, I just enjoy talking about stuff that's interesting to me and it helps to have a bit of knowledge on the shit coming out your mouth if you're gonna speak.
We talked trains some and I was surprised to learn how much they knew about RxR operations. When I was an engineer there in Roseville I made about 10k a month and brought home about 7.5k a month after taxes. I had about 4 thousand dollars in my wallet at any given time cause I don't do banking, I don't trust them. I'd send the rest to my family in Fresno. So I asked if they were hungry and they said “yeah we could eat”. I drove Todd, Shaye, and Sherman to Raleys and we bought fixings to make those huge sandwiches, you know the 3 foot long french bread for a whole party kinda thing.
We got avocados, black olives, meat, cheese, condiments, sauerkraut(none for me, thank you), sprouts, the works. We really did it up. I bought four 12 packs of "fancy beer" as they called it. We headed on down to the jungle, I dropped them off with all the supplies and went to the UP yard office to get a large box, several bags filled with ice, a shit ton of crew packs, I then printed the outbound summary for the next three days which was all tentative, but enough information there to know roughly where their train was, E.G. engine numbers, car numbers, empty box car details, etc. I snagged an extra copy of the Roseville sub timetable and a switchmans lantern and brought this all back to camp.
I gave them all of the items, and went to work fashioning an ice chest out of that cardboard box which I wrapped the inside with a couple bags, then filled it with ice, beer, water, and juice. We had one hell of a feast in that dirt under that old oak tree and as the sun set I really enjoyed the company of my new friends. I decided I'd stay the night down there with them and that's just what I did. I woke up the next morning and we did just about the same thing the whole day as their train was looking like an evening departure. I drove over to the yard and got an updated outbound line up printed, more ice and bags, gloves, whatever I could and headed back with news of a manifest being built in the yard that very moment on number 7 track.
As I was exiting the parking lot I saw the correct engines on the east end of track 7. I had a full detail of 7 track with commodities, where the empties were, car types, numbers, sequence, etc. I came down to that old oak tree and let them know they were getting out in about an hour and a half and that the crew was already called on duty. As I was refilling their make shift ice chest with new ice I said "let's go to the liquor store and get you guys stocked up for the trip" I believe Tim and Todd were the two who came with me this time. We got more fancy beer and rolling tobacco and headed back to the catch out spot.
As we were driving I had an idea. I had an idea that I could do what they were doing. Even if it was only for a couple days, I could do it. I asked what they thought about an engineer riding with them north maybe to Dunsmuir where the train would crew change and I'd head back South from there where they'd continue to go North. They liked the idea. They said it'd be a first for them, riding with an engineer. It was a first for me as well. I dropped them off with the supplies, I told them I'd hurry to a sporting goods store and buy a sleeping bag and I'd be right back.
I made it back in time as they were all loading their packs on their backs and squaring away any loose ends. The others seemed equally as excited that I was coming with them. I called in to work and said "I need to lay off sick" done deal. It's pretty easy with the RxR, you don't even have to give them a reason. That bought me 24 hours off the available board and I'd be put to the bottom upon my mark up(reporting available again) and as they called the top guys I'd move up one spot so I figured I had about 30 hours or so to be back to Roseville.
We walked briskly up over the number 1 and 2 main lines and into the yard, It was about 5 pm. We crossed a few strings of cars and popped out between 6 & 7 rail and I grabbed my list from my pocket and located the car in front of me on it, then looked down the list 14 cars east of us around the curve a little should be a few empty boxcars we can hope for an open door. We found that empty boxcar with both doors open, one half way. We all loaded up inside on the head end of the car and waited silently. Within 30 minutes I could hear the gravel crunching from the wheels of a carmans cart.
They were about to start the air brake test. I could hear the hiss of the air being shot back to the rear, I could hear the reservoirs filling up. I knew exactly what the engineer was doing with his hands in that locomotive, I'd done it many times myself. The carmen made a couple passes up and down the train inspecting the brake shoes, rigging, piston travel, etc. At some point one of them was making his final trip to the head end to give the engineer his successful air brake inspection slip and he'd be off to his next train to test. As he was driving East, the other carman was driving on the opposite side of the train West.
I don't know if those old guys had spotted us in one of the previous passes or what but when they were driving their little buggies I could hear them coming from both ends, from opposite sides of the car at the same time. One coming east, the other going west. They caught sight of one another across the rear knuckle of the car we were piled inside of. They both backed up a short distance and stopped. What luck. So they get off their little carts and shoot the shit between our car and the one behind it. They're talking across the knuckle. At some point one of them, a heavy set Hispanic carman steps back and leans as if to pear into the boxcar, he sees all of us. He comes up to us and says "God damn! How many of you are up in there, wow!" We gave him some humor and he gave us the "I didn't see nothing" and went back to talking with his buddy.
Myself as an employee at the time didn't feel comfortable with this and thought when he got some distance he'd call the bulls and I'd have some pretty fucking serious explaining to do and for sure I'd be fired if not worse for giving up so much information in times of "terrorism" and all I could just see them fucking me over on that bullshit. Jail time for a non profit hobo travel agent for trying to help the people everyone else is shitting on. Fuck that! I hopped out of that boxcar and headed back to that knuckle where he stood talking to the other carman I couldn't see.
******************To Be Continued Part 2 also found in the stories section******************
Autumn 2006 Roseville. I was coming up on a red signal at Atkinson, which is the signal in front of the Roseville yard office at the small road crossing. I went after some air (initial set of air to the train brakes) and I was ready to meet the next crew who would relieve us of our eastbound stacks. I'd let them fight that mountain to Sparks, my tour of duty was over. I think I've pulled to a stop at that same signal a couple hundred times or more. This evening was the first time I ever happened to turn my head to the left and just look out into a field that's always been right there.
There was a beautiful large oak tree that seemed to have lost it's leaves long ago. Under it stood six figures, four male and two female. They had banjos, fiddles, guitars and horns. I couldn't begin to guess what sort of music they'd be making down there, they looked like they'd been traveling some, their clothes were shot to hell. I went after another three to four pounds of air so I could stop even with these tramps and have a listen. My train squatted right down and stopped right where I wanted it to. I asked the conductor to open his window, still I couldn't make out anything over the loud locomotives and dispatcher 57 on the radio.
I stepped out on the front platform and leaned up against the grab iron, lit a clove (yes I'm stuck in the early 90's, get stuffed if you think it's fruity) and I still couldn't hear much. I decided once the relief crew showed up and we got our Renzenberger back in to the yard office I'd tie up (clock out and leave) and go down to that field and introduce myself. I drove east on Atkinson towards Roseville market and followed the curve to the right, made my first left and followed the short street into a culdesac. I locked up my 1964 nova, found an opening in the cyclone fence and proceeded down through waist high weeds.
As I got close a couple of them noticed me and it seemed they were uneasy and not sure what I was going to say. I was wearing overalls and fit the look of a worker, I even wore a DC cap that had a military type style with a shorter bill which almost looks like an engineers cap. They knew I was a worker and I think they were concerned I might have something shitty to say. I introduced myself, told them I just brought that train there on two track in from Oakland. They seemed friendly and introduced themselves as Barnabus Jones, Alynda Lee, Shaye Cohn, Todd Burdick, Sherman the fiddler, and Tim on the accordion.
They called themselves the Dead Man Street Orchestra. They too had just come out of Oakland and were aiming on Portland OR. to make the Mutant Fest in a few days. They told me some of their group had to split up in order to get over the road and some had fallen behind some distance they were unsure. Corey, Ian, and Sophie I believe were the missing party. I sat down there in the dirt and we got to talking trains. I can talk trains all day long if you'll let me. I'm not a foamer, I just enjoy talking about stuff that's interesting to me and it helps to have a bit of knowledge on the shit coming out your mouth if you're gonna speak.
We talked trains some and I was surprised to learn how much they knew about RxR operations. When I was an engineer there in Roseville I made about 10k a month and brought home about 7.5k a month after taxes. I had about 4 thousand dollars in my wallet at any given time cause I don't do banking, I don't trust them. I'd send the rest to my family in Fresno. So I asked if they were hungry and they said “yeah we could eat”. I drove Todd, Shaye, and Sherman to Raleys and we bought fixings to make those huge sandwiches, you know the 3 foot long french bread for a whole party kinda thing.
We got avocados, black olives, meat, cheese, condiments, sauerkraut(none for me, thank you), sprouts, the works. We really did it up. I bought four 12 packs of "fancy beer" as they called it. We headed on down to the jungle, I dropped them off with all the supplies and went to the UP yard office to get a large box, several bags filled with ice, a shit ton of crew packs, I then printed the outbound summary for the next three days which was all tentative, but enough information there to know roughly where their train was, E.G. engine numbers, car numbers, empty box car details, etc. I snagged an extra copy of the Roseville sub timetable and a switchmans lantern and brought this all back to camp.
I gave them all of the items, and went to work fashioning an ice chest out of that cardboard box which I wrapped the inside with a couple bags, then filled it with ice, beer, water, and juice. We had one hell of a feast in that dirt under that old oak tree and as the sun set I really enjoyed the company of my new friends. I decided I'd stay the night down there with them and that's just what I did. I woke up the next morning and we did just about the same thing the whole day as their train was looking like an evening departure. I drove over to the yard and got an updated outbound line up printed, more ice and bags, gloves, whatever I could and headed back with news of a manifest being built in the yard that very moment on number 7 track.
As I was exiting the parking lot I saw the correct engines on the east end of track 7. I had a full detail of 7 track with commodities, where the empties were, car types, numbers, sequence, etc. I came down to that old oak tree and let them know they were getting out in about an hour and a half and that the crew was already called on duty. As I was refilling their make shift ice chest with new ice I said "let's go to the liquor store and get you guys stocked up for the trip" I believe Tim and Todd were the two who came with me this time. We got more fancy beer and rolling tobacco and headed back to the catch out spot.
As we were driving I had an idea. I had an idea that I could do what they were doing. Even if it was only for a couple days, I could do it. I asked what they thought about an engineer riding with them north maybe to Dunsmuir where the train would crew change and I'd head back South from there where they'd continue to go North. They liked the idea. They said it'd be a first for them, riding with an engineer. It was a first for me as well. I dropped them off with the supplies, I told them I'd hurry to a sporting goods store and buy a sleeping bag and I'd be right back.
I made it back in time as they were all loading their packs on their backs and squaring away any loose ends. The others seemed equally as excited that I was coming with them. I called in to work and said "I need to lay off sick" done deal. It's pretty easy with the RxR, you don't even have to give them a reason. That bought me 24 hours off the available board and I'd be put to the bottom upon my mark up(reporting available again) and as they called the top guys I'd move up one spot so I figured I had about 30 hours or so to be back to Roseville.
We walked briskly up over the number 1 and 2 main lines and into the yard, It was about 5 pm. We crossed a few strings of cars and popped out between 6 & 7 rail and I grabbed my list from my pocket and located the car in front of me on it, then looked down the list 14 cars east of us around the curve a little should be a few empty boxcars we can hope for an open door. We found that empty boxcar with both doors open, one half way. We all loaded up inside on the head end of the car and waited silently. Within 30 minutes I could hear the gravel crunching from the wheels of a carmans cart.
They were about to start the air brake test. I could hear the hiss of the air being shot back to the rear, I could hear the reservoirs filling up. I knew exactly what the engineer was doing with his hands in that locomotive, I'd done it many times myself. The carmen made a couple passes up and down the train inspecting the brake shoes, rigging, piston travel, etc. At some point one of them was making his final trip to the head end to give the engineer his successful air brake inspection slip and he'd be off to his next train to test. As he was driving East, the other carman was driving on the opposite side of the train West.
I don't know if those old guys had spotted us in one of the previous passes or what but when they were driving their little buggies I could hear them coming from both ends, from opposite sides of the car at the same time. One coming east, the other going west. They caught sight of one another across the rear knuckle of the car we were piled inside of. They both backed up a short distance and stopped. What luck. So they get off their little carts and shoot the shit between our car and the one behind it. They're talking across the knuckle. At some point one of them, a heavy set Hispanic carman steps back and leans as if to pear into the boxcar, he sees all of us. He comes up to us and says "God damn! How many of you are up in there, wow!" We gave him some humor and he gave us the "I didn't see nothing" and went back to talking with his buddy.
Myself as an employee at the time didn't feel comfortable with this and thought when he got some distance he'd call the bulls and I'd have some pretty fucking serious explaining to do and for sure I'd be fired if not worse for giving up so much information in times of "terrorism" and all I could just see them fucking me over on that bullshit. Jail time for a non profit hobo travel agent for trying to help the people everyone else is shitting on. Fuck that! I hopped out of that boxcar and headed back to that knuckle where he stood talking to the other carman I couldn't see.
******************To Be Continued Part 2 also found in the stories section******************
