Today's story is dedicated to my good friend Austin. I moved from Boston to Austin my freshman year of high school and of course had no friends here. On the very first day I made friends with the people who remain my best friends to this day, and I consider that to be perhaps the most fortunate event of my life.
One of those friends is Austin. Now in the military flying whirly-copters, he used to be the one guy (well, actually I could pretty much always count on Terry too) who would always be in for a crazy plan.
This scheme fell right into our laps.
I was sitting in our dorm one night when Todd, Dan, and a few others came into the room.
"Dude, were down by the train tracks all night!"
It was a strange declaration. He continued to tell us that they intended to jump onto a moving freight train, but had gotten bored waiting for a train, had a little bonfire by the tracks, and then gave up and came home. It sounded uneventful, but fun in it's own right.
The next night they came by again and said that they were about to go back to the tracks to try to catch a train. Normally quite a risk taker, jumping on to a moving freight train seemed a bit excessive. They hadn't run into one the night before, though, so I assumed we would end up just hanging out by the tracks. It seemed interesting enough.
We drove to the tracks and sat down on the gravel. We were situated at a corner in the track which was immediately followed by a bridge. We determined that if we actually made it onto a train we would need to climb high on it to avoid being squished by the bridge.
Five minutes later I thought I heard a train. Nothing in sight. Then it came around the bend. Crap - I hadn't really thought this one through.
It was still in the distance, its headlights staring us down. As it came closer it became louder and bigger by the second. I thought that I knew just how massive a train was, but I was wrong. It was awe inspiring. When it was fifty feet away we were deafened by the sound of brakes screeching. The gravel shook below our feet. As the engine passed us, I could see the sparks coming off the breaks. I laughed. There was no way anyone was going near that train.
As if reading my mind and defying my thoughts, Austin charged towards the train. Was he serious?
He was. He caught up to it, grabbed on to a ladder on the side of the train and pulled himself up. I couldn't believe it. He scrambled up the ladder and disappeared into the night.
Crap. There was absolutely no way I was going to let him have this story unless I had it too. At this point you might ask "if Austin jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge too?"
Yes. Yes, I would.
So sure was I that we wouldn't actually be jumping train, I wore flip flops to the event. They'd have to do. I started racing over the loose gravel towards the train. As I got about ten feet away I stopped and laugh uncontrollably. The train was so awesome that it didn't seem real. The laughter was probably some sort of defense mechanism.
I had to do it, though. The other five members of our crew were watching to see if I was going to do it or not.
Again I ran towards the train, this time I made it right up to it. I ran alongside it, but it was going faster than I could run. I was running out of track - soon I'd be up to the bridge.
In a literal leap of faith, I jumped at the train and grabbed the rungs of the ladder. It lifted me off the ground and I somehow pulled myself up. I was on!
The gap between the train and the bridge was big enough that I didn't get smooshed, after all. I locked my arm around the ladder and enjoyed the ride.
My bliss lasted for a good ten seconds, and then reality set in. We had no exit strategy. None of us really thought that we would make it onto the train, so we never made any plans. How far was Austin going to go? How far was I going to go?
As I pondered the train accelerated. The turn was over and it was gaining speed for the long straightaway ahead. But I didn't notice that.
My phone rang.
"Hey dude, did you get on?"
"Yeah... I'm on right now."
"Oh. Really? I jumped off after the bridge"
Uh oh. I was now on the front of this death train and had no idea what I was going to do. It was then that I noticed our increased speed.
I had to get off. I surveyed my options. Next to the track was a nice loose bed of gravel. I probably wouldn't get injured landing on that. Of course, there were also heaping piles of scrap metal every fifty feet or so. Hitting one of those would certainly result in serious injury - or worse. Past the gravel was a steep hill that led to a ditch. There were enough trees and rocks there that it wasn't an option.
I formulated my plan. I would push myself off of the train slowly and start running in the air. I'd slowly ease myself onto the gravel, keeping my feet moving, and run to safety.
Before I had a chance to realize that my plan wasn't very good, I saw a long stretch of gravel. Who knew if there would be as good a patch ahead. It was time to jump now.
Just as I envisioned it, I pushed myself off of the train and started moving my feet. I slowly lowered myself to the gravel and let go of the train. Two huge steps were executed perfectly, and then the third missed and I fell flat on my face. I looked up and saw a scrap metal pile maybe twenty feet away. My timing was pretty good.
Just then I looked up at the roaring train and swore that I saw some cell phone lights whizz by. I called Terry - they had all jumped on after me and were now still on. The train was moving even faster now, as it had completely cleared the corner.
I told them that I had jumped off, and suggested that they do the same.
Twenty minutes later, I saw them walking towards me, bloody.
Terry had gouged his hand on a rock, leaving a scar that still remains today. Todd's knee was bleeding through his pants, and his hand was bleeding as well. He had a big smile on his face.
We all started walking back towards the start, but we were losing Terry. He was feeling lightheaded and going into shock.
Adminstering the only remedy we knew, we all sang Snoop Dogg songs to keep him awake. It worked, and after ten or fifteen minutes he was fine.
We met up with Austin, and went back to the dorm. Our friend Sumaya, who worked at Starbucks at the time, brought over a huge pan of brownies left over from the store. We called them victory brownies.
In my day I've done a number of very dangerous things. Some are on this site, and many more will be posted in the future. However, this remains the most dangerous to date. I would repeat almost everything else, but would never try to jump a train again.
I love Sett. I just wrote this post about trainhopping on my new blog.
As I'm reading the new comment, Sett suggests that I read this post next. I can only fantasise about what an amazing matrix will be build up with years of excellent bloggers posting their thoughts and adventures here.Off course you already did some trainhopping and off course it got gory. You seem to be more boring and way less stupid today, I'm trying to figure out if that is a good thing or not.Stay awesome.
You should have stuck it out.I have rode many trains to many differant places its a fun way to travel.The easyest way to get on is to jump a slow or stoped train in a railyard.Not too long ago I rode a pusher unit on the back of a train from Reno nevada to Roseville california via donner pass it was awesome.If you reconcider just plan ahead and go when its warm.
Have fun BADBOB
Damn, my friend and I did the same thing about 10 years ago from Milwaukee to Chicago but couldn't jump off, we started going waaaaaaay fast and it got freezing cold, we didn't get off until we got to skokie Illinois about 70 miles from where we started and had friends pick us up at a white castle. Scary as shit, loud as hell, and felt like 4 hours.
Great story. After highschool, I had a dream of doing that with a buddy. Just taking a credit card, a phone card, and a change of clothes, jumping on a random train with a buddy and riding it out, getting on the next one... Unfortunately, my friends all had developed common sence by that time and I didn't want to do it alone... I wish I had to this day.
The police lined us up in the pitch black tunnel. Their headlamps flicked around as they gave their orders in French. We were getting searched.
They went up the line searching my friends. First they were patted down, and then their bags were sifted through. Nothing to worry about, as they had nothing to hide.
I was next. I did have something to worry about. Inside my bag, right near the top, were human bones.
I was at a small local restaurant, situated just outside the train station. I struck up a conversation with a man there, who shared the following tale:
"Behind the apartments in which my father lived runs a shallow creek connected to a deep wood. I never truly knew how large it was, having never crossed to the other side. As a child, there were always things for me to find there, mostly in the form of trash that would come down the water. It wasn't drinkable, even without the refuse, and often had a oily, bubbling quality. Other than that, the only thing in abundance were the bones. Most of the time it was only small animals, their stark white hue easy to pick out against the dark mud and rotting leaves that choked the edges of the stream.
The other thing that was in great supply were the rats. Behind the apartments were a set of large trash bins. This caused the rats to become huge, some even the size of footballs. At least that is what my older brother told me. I never saw those rats up close, though the stories of the them terrified me, often leaving me in a state of panic whenever I was asked to descend the flights of stairs in order to take out the garbage.
Once though, we found a entire deer, its skin stripped away. My dad said that it was likely from a hunter, which always seemed like an off thing to me. My dad took the antlers from the creature, which remain on his mantle till this day. I asked him later what had happened to the body. He said he had left it where it was, and for a long time that was good enough for me. But I remember, or at least I think I remember, returning to the spot where we had found it. I never told anyone what I found, and for a long time I think I blocked it out. But thinking back on it now, I think I can remember what happened.
It was early morning. There was a chill in the air, and the the water had been reduced to a trickle. It didn't take long to find the spot. There was still a lot of blood, and the leaves were covered in it. The spot was as it was for the most part, the shavings off the antlers littering the ground, one of the broken saws tossed to the side. What was missing was the corpse, and along the ground were a set of drag marks. I expected that they would lead up the bank and to the street, having maybe been taken by some waste disposal crew. Instead they followed the river until they were out of sight. I was curious as a child, as my parents could tell you, and also rather morbid, so the prospect of trying to find out what happened to the body wasn't strange to me.