Vulture
Well-known member
I will start:
I had left Reno, where I was housed up for a week and a half. I got dropped off at Sparks. Hopped out in a 48 (I think, it was blue) double stack that was not completely filled by its containers. Smooth sailing to the next cc. There I got off to buy a magnum sharpie for hitchhiking. I got back to the yard to find my train was gone. I partly expected that. So I waited half an hour and the next train came by. It stopped. It was all shit and miniwells. I crammed myself in. I saw the Salt Lake and the mountains that appeared to be floating. After that, nothing good happened. In Wyoming, it was 29F and snowing. I was in my sleeping bag wrapped with a tarp, but still wet and miserable. I could hardly feel my feet by the time the train stopped in Cheyenne. I was slow to react. Then when I did I had to roll up my bag and fold my tarp. I was almost done with my tarp when the train started rolling. I grabbed my shit and sat on the ladder. It wasn't slowing down. Guess I am going to Nebraska... fuck. I set myself back up, but this time only with the tarp. The weather begins to alternate between snow and rain. The wind is hard and my wet tarp kept smacking out my cigarette, my only source of heat. I finally roll into North Platte. I haphazardly strap my tarp in. I stagger to the ladder, feet more numb than ever. The train seems to be going a decent hop off speed, so I wing it. I end up in a cold puddle on my side. Shivering, I look about for anover hang or building. The only thing there was a yard office. Guess what I did? I stood by the door, smoked a fag and walked right up into the office. I looked so pitiful the guys there gave me coffee and 2 bucks for snacks. $148 dollars later... still glad I did it. Going to be hitchhiking for a while...
I had left Reno, where I was housed up for a week and a half. I got dropped off at Sparks. Hopped out in a 48 (I think, it was blue) double stack that was not completely filled by its containers. Smooth sailing to the next cc. There I got off to buy a magnum sharpie for hitchhiking. I got back to the yard to find my train was gone. I partly expected that. So I waited half an hour and the next train came by. It stopped. It was all shit and miniwells. I crammed myself in. I saw the Salt Lake and the mountains that appeared to be floating. After that, nothing good happened. In Wyoming, it was 29F and snowing. I was in my sleeping bag wrapped with a tarp, but still wet and miserable. I could hardly feel my feet by the time the train stopped in Cheyenne. I was slow to react. Then when I did I had to roll up my bag and fold my tarp. I was almost done with my tarp when the train started rolling. I grabbed my shit and sat on the ladder. It wasn't slowing down. Guess I am going to Nebraska... fuck. I set myself back up, but this time only with the tarp. The weather begins to alternate between snow and rain. The wind is hard and my wet tarp kept smacking out my cigarette, my only source of heat. I finally roll into North Platte. I haphazardly strap my tarp in. I stagger to the ladder, feet more numb than ever. The train seems to be going a decent hop off speed, so I wing it. I end up in a cold puddle on my side. Shivering, I look about for anover hang or building. The only thing there was a yard office. Guess what I did? I stood by the door, smoked a fag and walked right up into the office. I looked so pitiful the guys there gave me coffee and 2 bucks for snacks. $148 dollars later... still glad I did it. Going to be hitchhiking for a while...