FC's Journal #16, part 4 - June 22, 2003 - 4:54 pm
Hey ya'll. I just got email from my buddy Damien. He's gonna' come up here and rescue me from all this bullshit... Hahaha... Anyway, I don't know what his plans are, he doesn't know what his plans are, and I don't know what my plans are... It all adds up to a lot of possibilities. Maybe I'll just turn my ass in on Monday and see what happens... Maybe not. This update isn't quite in a linear order like the last updates... Dunsmuir exists as more of a collection of stories in my mind, and therefore that is the way I'm gonna' tell it. They may be somewhat out of order, but I'll try to keep them in a natural flow. That said...
The local town was too small to have their own police department, so they relied upon Sherrifs instead. The sheriffs were therefore not from Dunsmuir and are constantly at odds with the locals. Even though many of the locals are happy to have the hobos come every year, the sheriffs are not. Therefore, they did everything in their power to fuck with us. At one point, there was a parade through downtown Dunsmuir. We were not allowed to march in the parade, so we marched on the sidewalk instead. Finally, they agreed to allow us to march in the parade... Afterwards many of us hung out downtown for a few hours. It was only until we made it back to camp that we heard about the UP bull that came by. Apparently the sheriffs called UP to demand that they take some sort of action about us. Though we had a permit for the land we were staying on, we had to trespass down UP tracks to get to it (it was a jungle, after all). UP sent the bull to our camp (all the way from Redding), but when he got there he told the sheriffs that there was nothing UP could do. Basically, he all but supported our camp. It was pretty funny. This, of course, infuriated the sheriffs more so... One of the local business owners asked Arky if we had had much harassment from the sheriff's this year... When Arky told him that we hadn't been harassed too badly, the guy said, ‘This town is a fucking police state.’ Hahaha... This was an old business owner. Crazy...
After Saturday people started to leave the camp. People were headed northbound and southbound, and the primary form of travel was trains. At one point someone commented that the amount of trains coming through didn't seem to be quite as regular as normal... Someone braved asking one of the workers what was up and the answer they got was surprising. There had been a derailment north of Klamath Falls. No traffic could go north of K Falls, and no traffic could go south of Eugene. Apparently seventeen cars had derailed in the middle of the mountains and UP was having a helluva' time cleaning it all up. We worried about punks like John who were supposed to be at the gathering, but weren't. Could they have been on the train that derailed? Probably not. They were probably just sitting somewhere in the piles of trains that were being backlogged on both sides of the derailment. As it turned out, both were okay, but the derailment did delay a lot of folks from getting to the camp. When Arky, Sam, and I were waiting to catch out on Monday, we ran into a bunch of folks that had finally made to Dunsmuir. They had waited for a southbound in Eugene for three days... That woulda' sucked.
After the parade we gathered downtown near the railroad tracks. At this point trains were still running. While we were hanging out a northbound train arrived... Suddenly a head peaked out of an open boxcar. Soon four people jumped out and were headed towards the crowd of hobos. We gave them a standing ovation. How much cooler an entrance can you make? There must have been about fifty of us there to watch them arrive... That was one of the best memories I have of Hobofest.
There were three major crowds at Hobofest. The leader was the Portland contingent, followed closely by a Santa Cruz group, and then finally by a strong showing from Minneapolis. How mpls happened to be represented so well, I don't know. Of the hundred or more hobos that showed up, probably over half were from one of the three mentioned places. Well, that's a few of the Dunsmuir stories. I've gotta' go now, but maybe I'll tell more the next time I write. Or maybe that's enough for now... I've still got a lot of story left to tell even after Dunsmuir, so maybe I should call this the end. Dunsmuir was a lot of fun though, and I hope I'll go next year... If my legal crap is taken care of by then and I'm not working a job somewhere (grimaces)... Okay, hope all is well. ---FC
FC's Journal #16, part 4? - June 24, 2003 - 1:02 pm
Hey ya'll. I don't remember if this will be part four or five... You'd think I'd learn to check before I write these things. Yesturday I went to a little cafe called 'Sisters of the Road'. It's in downtown Portland. If you ever come through and need cheap eats, you should check this place out. It's basically a mix of soup kitchen and restaurant. A plate full of rice and beans or spaghetti for just a buck and a quarter... Anyway, a ton of folks from Hobofest were there. I hung out with Brakeshoe and Drea, L from Santa Cruz, a guy named P from mpls, N, and about a dozen others. They were all on their way to the trainyard to catch north up to Seattle... I hope they all caught out okay. Brakeshoe seemed to think that legal issues I'm facing aren't so big a deal. That seems to be the consensus. Hopefully, at least... Anyway, after that I walked back to John's place (I'm almost completely out of money, and besides, it was only about sixty blocks... Heh.) I ran into D and his dog on my way home... I haven't gotten to this part of the story yet, but D and the dog were with us when we got caught in K Falls... Good to see that he got the dog out okay. Speaking of dogs... I'm writing this at John's place. There are two dogs here that are trying to kill each other... I really wish they'd hurry up and do it. God, how I hate dogs. What stupid creatures... I watched as one of them destroyed a coffee mug this morning, and they've upset the phone several times now... Anyway, I've got a couple more stories from Dunsmuir to tell before I continue onward...
After the parade many of us were wandering around downtown Dunsmuir rather aimlessly... Arky and I had decided we might as well (oh wonderful... One of the dogs just shit on the carpet. That's a lovely odor.) look around for food. We were going up to the trash bins and checking for food when we came across two clowns that had a karaoke machine set up... Well, it wasn't long before we were singing 'War Pigs' by Black Sabbath to the town of Dunsmuir... The clowns told us that they would be set up at a pizza place that night. So, later that night, a few of us descended on the pizza place for a little Hobo karaoke. As the night continued we reached a size of about thirty or so tramps hanging out, belting out the lyrics to songs like YMCA and The Devil Went Down to Georgia... While it was fun to see kidz like N flamboyantly sing songs of yesturyear, perhaps the most fun was the clowns themselves. These weren't your grade-A Shrine Circus type clowns... These were small town, stoner clowns. The guy clown was particularly frightening what with the way his mouth hung slightly open and how he would just stare at nothing for ten minutes at a time. Then there was the song the female clown sung for the guy clown... It was to be sung at their wedding in a couple of weeks. Man, she was getting all teary eyed, but the guy clown... He was so stoned that a car bomb could have gone off and he still would have been sitting there staring with his mouth hanging open... A good time for sure.
Another unique thing about Hobofest was that the camp was right next to the train tracks... In fact it was the official catching out point for southbound trains. Because the jungle was right along the tracks, we got to see everyone as they left Dunsmuir. About Saturday, as people started to leave, we would run up to the tracks every time a train passed by to see if folks were on it... When the train went through the yard, the riders would hide, but when it got out, everyone would yell and chear as they passed by camp. It was a fun experience... In about two days time, I must have seen about fifty (or more) tramps on trains pass by.
Okay, that's about all the stories from Dunsmuir I have right now. I'm also gonna' keep this installment short and wrap this up about now. Oh, if you want to hear an entertaining story, ask Arky about my experience with 'crotch flies' (or ask me sometime when I'm drunk)... It's too embarrassing for me to tell everyone... Okay, I hope all is well. ---FC
FC's Journal #16, part 6 - June 25, 2003 - 9:16 pm
Okay, the last entry was actually part five... Gotta' keep reminding myself to check and see what the last post was. For all that have asked, Trampfest will be the weekend of the 9th and 10th of August in Superior, WI (right across the street from Duluth, MN). It will be a weekend of drunken revelry, hobo stories, harassment by the cops, and generally a good time. The dates I mentioned above are as they are currently... These things have a tendency to change. If any of ya'll wanna' go and don't know how to get there, just come to mpls and I'm sure there will be groups of folks going up... For the record, I believe UP, BNSF, and CP will get you there, although not all of 'em may be leaving from mpls/st. paul. You'll have to check your cc guides to make sure... I worked a shift at Sisters of the Road today. Actually, it amounted to nothing more than wiping down the counters for half an hour, but it got me enough credit for half a dozen meals there. That place rocks! You'll all have to stop by if you ever make it through Portland. I'm thinking of maybe leaving tonight to head back to mpls... Either that or tomorrow, most likely. It will be good to get back on the rails. Plus I'll go back through the scenic Columbia River Gorge. Hopefully this time I'll manage to avoid the damn garbage train... I've spent about a week in Portland now, the most time I've spent in any one place for the last six weeks... I might even try to be back here at the end of July for my court, but I'm not sure yet. But that's about it for now... I'll have to save my stories for later... I gotta' use my internet time elsewhere tonight. Okay, hope all is well. ---FC
FC's Journal #17 - June 30, 2003 - 11:55 am
Howdy y'all. Screw all that 'part whatever' stuff... I'm just gonna' keep on with the original numbering scheme. I'm back in Mpls. I caught the highline eastbound out of Portland. I got in about noon yesturday. It took about 57 hours... A little longer than some trips, but not too bad. The trip from Portland to Spokane took forever though. Why does the Spokane to Seattle/Portland leg of the trip take so long? It's not 'cause you are going through the mountains. You go through plenty of mountains in the Spokane to Havre leg and that usually seems rather fast. And besides, there aren't any mountains if you are going out of or into Portland. I dunno'... John was nice enough to put me up all last week at his place. Thanx John!
I left and took the city bus to as far north as it would go. I then walked to a walkbridge that would take me across the Columbia river to Vancouver, Washington. It wasn't more than a couple miles. Once I got to the other side, I headed west to the railroad wye where trains coming northbound across the bridge either continued north or split to go east. Also, there are trains headed southbound that split to go east as well... So twice as many trains as I originally thought would be passing by. And there were lots... In the three hours or so that I waited, no less than six train passed by. There was one pig train and about four GM trains, plus the DS train that I got onto. Most of the traffic that came by was going fairly slow, but my train may have been going a little too fast. I grabbed the railing only to have it drag me along after it. This is nothing new. There's a trick to getting on the fly. Even if the train is going faster than you can run, you can still get on as long as it's not going much faster. Simply grab onto the first rung of the ladder and the train will drag you along, sorta' hopping along to keep up. Anyway, it was going faster than usual... Faster than I had thought. I was even a little surprised when I managed to hop up onto the ladder. But I did, and got into a nice well.
I had waited under the axels of a car... But before you freak out about how dangerous it is to be under a train and that you never know when it may move, let me tell you that these cars weren't gonna' go anywhere any time soon. The catch out point is right next to a little restaurant where trains are the theme. Several old passenger cars sit on dedicated track and these make up the seating areas for the restaurant. One of the cars is an old power car that has a nice little cuby-hole under it that I stuffed my gear and sat in. There is no way you can be seen under there at night unless someone were to come to that specific part of the car and shine a flashlight directly upon me. This is good, 'cause other than this little restaurant you completely out in the open here. The area is mostly a warehouse industrial area. There's no vegetation to hide in and little in the way of places to hang out. When I first arrived in the area both a BNSF crew change van and a city cop passed me by before I had a chance to find a place to hang out. For the next couple hours, the patrol car would roll past where they had seen me. Fortunately, I had jumped under the passenger car just after they saw me for the first time, so they must have thought I had caught something earlier. That's another reason this site is kinda' cool... There's so many trains going by that if you miss one of them, there will be another coming along shortly. This isn't really so great a spot to catch out though 'cause it's so out in the open and the trains are going a little faster than I'd like, but I would still rather catch on the fly than have to hunt around for a train in a yard.
The trip over the mountains was fairly routine. No crazy (mis)adventures. I was a little freaked out about Havre though. I had talked to Brakeshoe at Hobofest about my trip on the highline westbound out of minneapolis earlier in the year. He had commented about whether I had had any trouble in Havre. I hadn't. Still, if Brakeshoe, someone who is usually in the know, asked about security there, maybe there was a reason to stay alert. I packed up all my gear when we rolled in. I didn't even know we were in Havre at first 'cause we were the only full length train in the yard and there's usually a lot of traffic in this yard. This is the halfway point for most trains on the highline. The trains refuel and have 1000 mile checks here besides getting a new crew before taking off again. As I waited to see what was going on, a westbound pig train pulled in next to me on the right side. This effectively cut off the bull run from that side of the train. Nice. It wasn't long before a number of GM trains arrived on my left side as well. Now the only folks that could get to my train were either folks on foot or workers on their little go-karts. And plenty of the go-karts raced by. I sat and tried to calm myself by smoking a rolled cigarette. Man, I can't roll them things worth a damn.
Anyway, to keep this shorter, we had no problem and rolled out before much longer. When we got to Glasgow, Montana, I decided I needed to get more water. Actually, I wasn't out of water yet, but I was going to be before the end of the trip. I decided it would be smart of me to pile my gear next to the train, so that if it were to take off while I was gone, I wouldn't lose my gear. Besides, Glaslow seemed easy... I wouldn't have to wait long in this easy yard before something else came by headed east. So I jumped the string next to my train and ran across a small field to a baseball field. I ran along trying to find a drinking fountain or a spigot. Finally I found one and started filling my water bottle... The water was yellow. Yuck! I should have given the pipes a minute to clear, but I didn't want my train to leave without me, so I simply filled the bottle. I took a long pull from it... It wasn't too bad, but it wasn't pleasant either. I filled the bottle the rest of the way and ran back across the field and to my train. I got back on board with my gear and waited until we aired up and took off. When we pulled into the cities here, the train waited for clearance before entering north town. I've always hated that yard, so I got off where the train sat. Actually, it was just down the road about three miles from my folks place, so I walked back home. And here I am...
I'm not too sure what my plans are at this point. Originally I thought I might go to Superior for an Earth First! rendezvous that I had heard was going on there. Unfortunately, the rendezvous is going on in the Superior National Forest, not the town of Superior. It's about two hours away from Duluth and in the middle of no where. I don't really like hitch-hiking to begin with and there are no trains that go that way, so I probably won't be going either. Oh well... Axel and I have talked about trying to recruit Bart to make a weekend in La Crosse this next weekend. Bart might come back to the cities afterward as well. Or, if not, maybe I'll head with him to Chicago. Anyway, I'd rather be doing something and right now I'm kinda' at a loss for what to do for the next six weeks or so... I'm totally out of money, so I'd like to find a little work somewhere, but other than that... I don't know. Anyway, that's probably way too long an email anyway, so there's no sense to adding more BS to it. I hope all is well. ---FC