Freight Trains & Wanderin' Around

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Freight Trains

Short stories from the road, wandering around and hopping freight trains

Karso and Aurora (2021)

Karso and Aurora (2021)

The hardest moments for me are goodbyes. Always. Don't get me wrong, I very much enjoy my solitude, but the goodbyes always tear me down like watchin' a building of emotions collapse as you push that tiny red button. Sometimes I'd rather just hit fast forward on life and skip ahead a day without havin' to say goodbye or cya later at all. I do love the freedom of

Wanderin' Through the Hundred Acre Woods (2019)

Wanderin' Through the Hundred Acre Woods (2019)

I remember my correspondence with Northbank Fred from over a year ago via email like it was just yesterday. I thanked him for his contributions to hobohemia and the many adventure stories and monikers plastered throughout his blog. They are all truly inspiring and preserve so much of the train culture; it’s unfathomable, with dissertations, short stories, and photography the symbol of freedom resonates through the bindle of the early American Hobo. The words

Ayoooooo Taco the Ankle Biter and the Roseville Crew (2021)

Ayoooooo Taco the Ankle Biter and the Roseville Crew (2021)

I woke up early that morning on a bed of mulch with limbs of pine drooping overhead and thick dew in the air. The clanking commotion from heavy equipment jostling stone boulders around bellowed over the sound of freight working in the train yard. For the most part, the yard looked pretty empty compared to the old Roseville I knew, once bustling with steady freight traffic, but now less trains "seemed" to run

NECR Outta Bratt (2020)

NECR Outta Bratt (2020)

I rolled over in the dirt this morning, poking my head out of my bivy, lying in viny tendrils of plants scattered along the river between remnants of dead birch and leaves. A garden of amanita virosa lingered in the shadows, hidden in the cracks of decayed earth, under a canopy of hardwoods. The only sign of autumn flowered from the rhus skirting the bank of the river, painting parts of the verdant mountains a

Shangri-La (2020)

Shangri-La (2020)

I splay out along a swimming hole where the cataracts flow, down the craggy chasms of rock, over the moss and through the riffs and ferns, swimming out to meet the St. John's. Beneath its glinting ripples the bass and the muskies roam free with the moose hidden in the deep green forests and lush meadows of the wilderness. I look beyond through the dark, slick passage where mountain water meets the river.

Bike Hopping to Marble Canyon (2023)

Bike Hopping to Marble Canyon (2023)

Route 89A took me through Marble Canyon and the Vermillion Cliffs. It's a steep climb over 40 miles to Jacob Lake which chasms through the snowy glades of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Much like Vermont these roads aren't plowed frequently and I knew a storm was brewing in the clouds ready to dump another blanket of snow over the already glistening landscape. But at the time, I just

Ridin' Dirt Outta 'Kirk (2020)

Ridin' Dirt Outta 'Kirk (2020)

I zigzagged through the green maze, pushing my way through the thick vegetation, limbs and thorns clawing my bare arms and snagging my pants, as I hit walls of impenetrable forest. The faint trail left by other riders over the year had faded to muddy banks with a creek snaking through it. My feet sank into soupy earth as I hopped across the brook traversing the last stretch of woods to reach the hop out

The Overland (2023)

The Overland (2023)

Ogden, UT to Chicago, IL in 34 hours. First time riding through Wyoming. Caught the North Platte River at sunset and rode over a different section of the Mississippi River today going into Illinois. Hopped off at Global II, which is straight in the burbs. Got off in front of some kid playing basketball. Ogden is tweakerville. I left my spot for 20 minutes the other day to grab water from Walmart and came back

The End of the Road for Zion (2023)

Bicycle Touring

The End of the Road for Zion (2023)

Russ dropped me off in Cedar City this morning and I rode 59 miles to Milford, UT today. I had a great time in Zion while I was there. It's crazy how fast time flies. There simply isn't enough of it. I met a lot of cool people I'll miss, people I won't, and characters who I'll never forget. They left an imprint whether I

Echos from the Hills (2020)

Echos from the Hills (2020)

I woke in the middle of the night to yelps and squeals echoing from up in the hills. They weren't from a dog and didn't sound like a fox or a coyote, but I couldn't distinguish the animal nor did I really want to know. I heard these screams over the surging rage of winds that ran wild through the naked trees scattered along the Hoosic River. My face

The Silver Path through an Ivory Blanket (2020)

The Silver Path through an Ivory Blanket (2020)

I took the bus from Manchester to Rutland for $2.00 so I could finally ride the train to Bennington. I've ridden every other direction out of the VRS yard except this line south and wanted to go through the Green Mountains. I no longer have work so what else was I gonna do? Public transit for some reason always attracts the people that want to talk to strangers. I'm not

Bummin' Outside Zion (2023)

Bicycle Touring

Bummin' Outside Zion (2023)

I always look for dead end roads. You never know what you're gonna find. Sometimes it's like finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow because I'll stumble upon hiking trailheads that take me off the beaten path away from the haughty fleet of tourists or to the outskirts of town where I can peacefully read a book, relax, enjoy the tranquility of nature, and camp