Rail cars that hoboes ride.

“BOXCARS”

Boxcars are my favorite rides on freight trains.  Boxcars haul almost anything and everything.  From frozen orange juice to bagged concrete; the boxcar hauls it all.

  Me, inside the doorway of my boxcar when the outside temperature was 10 degrees below zero!

 This is the boxcar I rode from Shreveport, Louisiana, to Kansas City, Missouri.

 Me here trying to open my boxcar door a bit more before hopping up inside.  (Shreveport, Louisiana).

 This boxcar rode fairly good.  I rode inside here from Clinton, Iowa, to Peoria, Illinois.  (Notice my seat inside)?  I was able to load this chair inside when we stopped to let another train pass.  Some boxcar “hunt” really bad on the tracks.  Hunting is caused by empty cars that sway back and forth on the tracks;  jarring you in every way!   By riding in an insulated boxcar, you lessen the chance of hunting because these boxcars are heavier, thus the hunting is not as bad.

 Me, inside my boxcar riding in Texas.

“CAR CARRIERS” a.k.a. “AUTO-RACKS”

Car carriers can be ridden if you know what you are doing.  When these rail cars are loaded with new vehicles, they are locked with thick shank-seals, thus getting inside these rail cars is next to impossible, but can be done.  Once you’re inside, each vehicle has its key in the ignition.  It makes for a great ride with the stereo and the heat or air conditioning blasting!  Mostly though, I only ride when these rail cars are empty.  They make for a really nice ride being that they are difficult to get into, thus the bull never thinks there will be anybody inside and avoids checking!

 This here is an auto-rack rail car, also.  Each end of this rail car has two large doors that swing open if you can make the right make-shift chuck-&-key to get in, that is!

 This also is an “Auto-Rack” train.

 This is what it looks like to ride inside an empty “auto-rack” rail car!  (There are no vehicles loaded inside this rail car, so I had all this room to walk about).

  (Homemade Chuck-&-key).  This is a railroad plate with spike poked through the square hole in the plate.  Now, you take the square spike and place it into the square hole of the car carrier door and turn counter clockwise and voila, your auto-rack door opens, then you can load up inside and ride in style!

“COIL CARS”

 This is a “coil car” I rode behind from Beaumont, Texas, to Shreveport, Louisiana, while riding “KCS”.   Kansas City Southern a.k.a. KCS, now hauls many coil cars to Kansas City and points north from old Mexico, thus you can determine the direction of your train when you’re in Shreveport’s Caddo Yards in Louisiana.

Coil cars are used to transport rolls of steel.  Various types of wire also are hauled in roll-form with the coil car.  The steel rolls are manufactured mostly for the automobile industries.

 This coil car is hauling steel rolls, as are the uncovered coil cars in front.

Coil cars are made weather-proof, since steel becomes quickly vulnerable to oxidation, once it leaves from where it’s manufactured.

 This is an open-ended, or uncovered coil car. 

These rolls are unprotected here. Certain steel manufacturers requirements are less stringent, since the steel will be recast again, depending on the product being manufactured.

 

The below link is of a train hauling nothing but “coil cars”!

(Please enjoy)!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncMR0bgXPSE

“CABOOSES”

Cabooses were used on trains back in the days when siding and yard switches were turned by hand.  For instance, if the train pulled out onto the mainline from a spur track or a siding; the trainman in the caboose would get off and switch the track back to the original alignment from the rear of the train, thus avoiding having to back the train up to where the switch could be turned by an engineer or brakeman on the head end.  Now that computer operated switching exists out on the mainline, trains no longer need a caboose.  Trains now have what’s called an “EOT” on the very last rail car of the train.  “EOT” stands for End Of Train device, and most railroad employees call it this.  Hoboes call the end of train device a “Fred”.  The Freddy stands for, Federal Rear End Device, or “Flashing Rear End Device.  Either way, it’s a rectangular shaped box-like device that hooks to the trains air hose and reads the trains air pressure that is used to operate the brakes.  If the air pressure drops for any reason, the device will send an emergency alert signal to the train crew in the lead locomotive unit, then the matter is investigated.

This is the rear end device, or (EOT).  Also known as the Fred, or (Flashing Rear End Device).

Cabooses usually have one or two beds, one restroom, an oil stove/heater and an electrical system provided by an alternator.  The top of the caboose also usually has an area called the Cupola.  The cupola area is where the train being pulled in front of the caboose can be seen from a higher vantage point.  The caboose has an electrical system that gets its electricity from an alternator.  The alternator generates electricity from the cabooses own wheels that are attached to the alternator by belts.  When the caboose is in motion you have electrical current that is being generated, thus you have power for the equipment inside the caboose.  Although cabooses are almost never used anymore, they still may be seen sometimes being pulled on local area runs that require frequent manual switching that can’t be achieved by a computer operated switch.  Cabooses still exist in many rail yards across North America and are terrific for sleeping in and getting in out of the foul weather.  If you are lucky, you may find an unlocked caboose that you can sleep in.  If not, you need to acquire yourself a universal railroad key.   These are a few photos of cabooses that I have rode and slept inside.

 This caboose is now owned by “BNSF” Rail.  A very good view of the cupola here.  (I slept in this caboose the night before I took this photo).  This also is the very same caboose as the one down after the next.

Cupola area of caboose above.  This caboose is an old “Western Maryland” Railroad caboose.  Hoboes refer to cabooses as “Crummies” also.

  This is me in the rear area of the caboose I slept inside about two years ago.

 This here is the alternator, belts and pulley system where electrical current is generated for the cabooses consumption.

 This is a caboose without a cupola.  The area in the mid-section of this caboose that bulges outward was used to keep an eye out on the train being pulled ahead of the caboose as like with the cupola.

 This again is a caboose without a cupola.  This unit is owned by the “CSX” railroad company.  (Chessie Seaboard System Railroad).

“GRAINERS” a.k.a. “HOPPERS”

Grainer’s are my second favorite rail-car to ride.  They come in several models as well.  This grainer below is what hoboes call a Cadillac grainer.  Reason being is there is a steel lip that rises up all around the floor of the rail car where you ride and thus you are hid a lot better from the all-seeing-eyes!  (Notice the raised edge around the base of this Cadillac grainer below)?

 This was a grain hopper I rode on from Vancouver, BC to Calgary, Alberta Canada.  I’m almost entering the tunnel at the Alberta/BC border.

 Here I’m riding on a Cadillac grainer.  (Notice the other train passing me in the siding next to me)?  You have an area that measures roughly eight feet by four feet to ride on.  Also there is enough room where you may roll out your bedroll and sleep comfortably.

 I’m riding inside of the end-hole area of a covered hopper here.  You have roughly an area four feet by eight feet to ride here as well, but there are three separate sections where each are only four feet by three feet in length.  Also you are nearly hermetically sealed all around!  This is a tight fit as you can see here!  (Notice the white chemical residue in the other section)?  Also the circular hole you see here is the exact size of the hole you must squeeze through in order to get where I’m at resting here!

 This here also is a grainer rail car.  They can be used to haul anything from feed corn to shingle grit-sand used on roofing shingles!

 This here is what we hoboes call a “Bottomless” grainer.  It has no covered floor to ride on!  Although you can ride this type grainer, you had better stay awake if you want to get to your destination in one piece!

 This is me next to what we hoboes call a “double barrel shotgun grainer” because of the double holes on each end and its barrel shape.  You have to squeeze into this small hole to my right!  Once inside, you have lots of room to move about while out-of-sight, out-of-mind!

 This is me inside the small hole once inside.  You can now see how roomy it is once inside.  (Roughly five foot long by three foot wide and perhaps four foot high interior).

 This is my absolute favorite hopper/grainer to ride!  (C-6 class-style hopper).  These mostly are used to haul plastics from refineries to plastics manufacturers.

“GONDOLAS”

Gondola cars are open topped rectangular rail cars used to haul various goods.  Most haul scrap metal, but a few others may haul steel beams, metal & concrete culverts, rebar and even the occasional railroad track rails with ties still intact.  You can ride in these gondola rail cars, but they sure are windy to ride!  Trash, fodder and debris blows relentlessly no matter what the speed of the train!  You might as well bring a pair of goggles with you when you plan on riding a gondola!

 This is the usual condition of gondolas as they are used and abused to the fullest!  This gondola was once owned by “New York Central” railroad company.

 You are riding with a hobo here!

 This gondola is being used to haul rolls of steel wire.  This steel wire is sometimes loaded in the gondola while it’s still hot!  This makes for a nice, warm ride on a cold winter’s night!

“HOT-SHOTS” & “DOUBLE-STACKS”

Hot shots are priority trains.  These type trains will get you where you need to go fast!  The bad thing is; you are being watched by the railroad police (bull) all the time.  Riding a hot shot can be done, it just takes hiding good and keeping out of sight so you won’t get caught and thrown off railroad property for trespassing or even worse; thrown in jail!

 The railroad policeman here is checking seals on container doors making sure no break-ins have occurred.

Each end of the containers have an area where you can ride.  The problem is finding the right rail car that has enough space to get down in and hide.  The T-125-48’ers here are good rides, but finding enough space to ride is hard.  You must ride at night to evade capture on a hot shot, although I have ridden many, many times without any problems during the daylight hours.  It depends a lot where you are also.  If you’re in a high-crime area, it’s likely you’re going to get caught there than out in the middle of the desert.

 Union Pacific T-125-48 hot shot.

 On each end of these stacked containers you can ride down in the rail car itself.

“LOCOMOTIVE UNITS”

Locomotive units can be ridden as well.  Each unit has its very own electric heating system, airconditioning, refrigerator with bottled water and even a restroom with a toilet much like on a Greyhound bus.  Sometimes the train crew will be nice enough and let you ride inside the cab of the rear, trailing locomotive units.  Most all have a radio so you can hear what is going on around you.  There is enough room that you can roll out your bed roll on the floor of the cab and sleep comfortably.  Also there usually are three to four adjustable seats in the locomotive cab. 

  Me climbing aboard a unit in Alexandria, Louisiana.

Trains that transport goods long-haul travel while trailing other locomotives behind one another for added power, thus if you are experiencing cold weather, you can ride in the cab of the locomotive that is in rear trailing position three to four units back from the lead unit, (or how ever many units are trailing behind). 

The SD stands for “Super Diesel”, and the 80MAC is its series make/model. They are roughly 5,350 horse-power.  There are many, many types, makes and models of locomotives throughout the railroad industry.

 This is a photo I took from the nose of a locomotive.  I’m riding a “pusher” locomotive unit here from North Platte, Nebraska to Cheyenne, Wyoming.  (I have the door open while snapping this photo).

Me inside of KCS’s locomotive.

“LUMBER CARS & FLAT CARS”

Lumber and flat cars can be rode, but at a price.  Although you can easily board one of these type rail cars, they are right out in the open and in the public eye!

 These here are flat lumber cars.  If the weather is nice you may ride between each stack of wood, but if the train were to ever suddenly stop in an emergency stop, you could risk life & limb!

 This here is an empty lumber car.  They are used to haul various wood types, lengths & widths.  Dry-wall is sometimes hauled with these as well.

 This is a bulkhead flat car.  Used to haul fallen trees to pulp mills and paper mills.  This wood here is in it’s first step in becoming news paper, toilet paper, writing paper, paper towels and may even be shredded to manufacture particle-board.  These type rail cars can be ridden, but are so full of sap that it gets all over your clothing and backpack!

 Here we have another flat car.   The bulkheads are high, but this doesn’t help keep wind from blowing your clothes off your back!  They are used to haul beams, culverts, pipe and anything that is too long or large to fit through a boxcar doorway.

 This is a flatcar hauling pipes that I rode from Beaumont, Texas to DeQuincy, Louisiana.

Railroad defect detectors and signaling systems.

 

Automatic Block Signaling…(ABS)

The basic concept of ABS is that the track is divided into Blocks; sections that are protected by Block Signals. A block is the section of line between two consecutive block signals. Trains operate by a track warrant being given to each train crew that obide by specific rules for each block at Control Points. CP’s are marked with mile markers, as like with hiway mile markers, thus keeping a safe margin between each train from signal light, to signal light.

 

Centralized Traffic Control…(CTC)

Centralized Traffic Control (CTC) is a term used to describe a system that allows remote control of a traffic control system. CTC allows a single dispatcher to directly control and monitor a long section of railroad instead of a track warrant being given, often a whole subdivision. CTC provides the greatest traffic capacity for a line, as the person with the traffic overview is also the person directly controlling the traffic. This happens with the dispatcher for each train.

If an area of track has no ABS or CTC, it is presumed “Dark Territory”. This is a track torpedo I set out on the track, but, of course later removed above.  When a train rolls over the small pack,….POW!  Thus the train-crew knows there is another train in the area and take necessary precautions, since Dark Territory has no means of lighting signaling systems to warn other trains.

This is a track-detector.  If dragging equipment anywhere on a passing train comes in contact with this detector, the detector-flap will be activated thus sending a notice to the train-crew either by radio or by automatically giving the next lighting signal a red block thus the engineer will stop the train to investigate.  Also this detector has an infrared heat sensor, (the small gray box).  If any train wheel measures above a certain temperature, the detector again will be set off and appropriate action will be taken.

This here is an overhead detector.  This type detector takes measurements of each rail car as it passes and if there are any defects with the train the detector will send a signal to the train-crew via their radio or by giving the crew a red signal to stop their train and investigate.  The train-crew then will place the train into what’s called “emergency”.  The entire train will be walked alongside while the defect is located and either fixed there on the spot or if the defective rail car has to be taken to a siding or spur and set out.

This here is a set of mainline overhead CTC signals.  Each train out on the mainline is given either green, yellow, flashing yellow, red or lunar.  Each signal means a certain task is required of the engineer.  Each railroad company has their own set of rules for what each lighting signal means thus keeping the flow of traffic safe at all times.

These type signals here are siding signals.  They signal the train-crew to either enter the siding or to maintain track-warrant speed on the mainline and not enter the siding.

This here is a dwarf signal.  They are used mostly in switching yard areas.  They let the engineer know which tracks are lined up for entering and exiting.  They also can be found at the stopping-point in a siding area that trains use to pass one another.

This is a swap-box.  This is the area where all the electrical wiring runs into one area where it then is directed to the appropriate signal that is to be given a command.

 This is an “AEI” detector.  “AEI” detectors read railcar information on each car that rolls by this white box.  This tells of its load contents and carrier as well as costomer.

Wyoming boxcar ride with the delirium tremens.

It was the summer of 1998, and  I was at my peak of alcohol consumption. 
I had ridden into the town of Keokuk, Iowa from Chicago on an empty boxcar.  Right away, I found a day labor job tearing shingles from the roof of an elderly couples home.  I worked hard for four days, and very glad I had done so, since I desperatally needed new travel gear!

I was happy and surprised to find a terrific army surplus store on my fifth day where I bought a nice bed roll, backpack, camo britches and another canteen; all for $95.00.  I had made up my mind to catch out later on that day, since I was restless as could be!
I caught a BNSF freight train from Keokuk’s small switching yard up to Ottumwa, Iowa, then took the BNSF from Ottumwa to “Stinkin” Lincoln, Nebraska. 

Once I rolled into Lincoln, I had to hop a different freight north to Fremont, Nebraska in order to switch over to the Union Pacific Railroad. Once in Fremont, I hopped west and made my way to Cheyenne, Wyoming, while drinking one and a half liters of liquor per day, the entire trip.

Once in Cheyenne, I had to walk from the UP yards, to the BNSF overpass west of town. It sure was a tough walk, since my shaking was so bad from being dried out alcohol-wise.  Four blocks from the BNSF switching yard, I entered a frequently shopped liquor store and bough another half gallon of vodka for the trip that lie ahead.

At the north end of the BNSF yard, under catch out bridge, I sat and took myself a strong drink right from the bottle!  I felt terrible.  Before this swallow had started its journey through the lining of my small intestine, and into my bloodstream, I had not had a drink for the entire day!  I was surprised I was able to purchase this bottle without dropping it on the floor because of my severe shakiness, being I had gone almost 24 hours without a single drink.

Thirty minutes had passed when a north bound train rolled into the yard.  The train crew had their crew change, then started rolling again.  As it rolled passed me, I was hid behind the bridge pillar next to the Airforse base entrace.  I waited until the locomotives made their way past me, then I jumped into an empty boxcar.  Once I had boarded the train, I sat my backpack down in the corner of the boxcar and went for another drink of vodka.  Oh, no!  My vodka had not made the train as I had!  Where was it?!  Oh, no!  Oh God!  It had fallen from my backpack while I had jumped into the boxcar!  At this point, I had now only had two ounces of alcohol in 24 hours!  I was in big trouble!

I had heard of the DT’s before, but had never experienced them.  Two hours hadn’t passed when the unthinkable started to happen!  I thought two guys were trying to steal my gear while inside the boxcar, and were plotting to kill me!  I managed to make it through Wendover and Casper by huddling in the corner of the boxcar on top of my backpack crying the entire trip before realizing what was possibly going on with me medically!  By the time I rolled into Greybull, Wyoming township for our crew change, I was in terrible shape!

Once in Greybull, I ran to a little store on the main drag, called the police and told them about the two men plotting to kill me and take my gear!  Two officers came to the store and asked me all kinds of questions like, “Who were these guys?  Am I taking or not taking any medications?”  After a search of the area brought up nothing, the one cop asked me, “When was the last time that I had consumed any alcohol?”  I told him when I last had a drink, and how much.  That’s when he confirmed my own suspicion about what was going on!

The cops took me to the local hospital 25 miles away in the town of Worland.
The emergency room doctor hooked an IV line to my arm and pumped in vitamins and fluids.  To stop the DT’s, I was given an injection of Valium, but not before giving me a shot of Haldol in the left ass-cheek to dull the delirious state I was in!

It took nearly five days to get me on my feet and back out on a freight train again!
The DT’s have happened to me only two other times after that, but not as bad.  So, I guess liquor was the real culprit, because never have I had this problem from drinking plain beer. 

Every time I pass through Greybull, Casper, Cheyenne, and Laurel, I get this funky reminder that moves me emotionally because of what happened that time!
God I am so glad that I stopped drinking December 2nd, 2006.

My Maine freight train ride took me to Nova Scotia, Greenland and Iceland.

I had just hopped a freight train to Bangor, Maine, from the Framingham Conrail Railroad yards near Boston, Massachusetts.  I was tired, thirsty and hungry!  I bailed off my boxcar and walked to the fisherman’s docks along the Penobscot River. I started asking various boaters in the small harbor-like area if I could do work for twenty dollars for food.  I had asked relentlessly for well over an hour without getting one offer.  I had given up!  I started walking back toward the mission on Cedar Street when I heard a voice behind me say,  “Hey, are you looking for a bit o’ work mate”?  I replied, “Yes sir”!  He then stated, “Come back here mate, I have something that you can help me with”.

This guy was an Aussie.  He had fished all over the world with his small fishing boat outfit. He stated that he had overheard me asking one of his crew-mates that I needed an hour or two worth of work while he was below deck on his boat.  He said, “I hate seeing a man go hungry and I’m going to give you something that you can do and then pay you”.  I was given a five gallon plastic bucket and a small hand brush along with strong smelling chemicals inside.  “Start up at the front-end of my boat mate and scrub’er down”, was his reply.  After I had scrubbed hard for roughly two hours, I was so tired.  I was given $30.00 cash to eat on.  Wow!  This sure made my day!

I walked briskly to the corner store on the edge of Cedar Street where I bought a hot microwavable burrito, bagged chips and a strawberry soda pop.  I sat down on a bench in front of the store and ate.  Ah, this tasted so good being that I had gone roughly 38 hours without having one calorie pass down my gullet and into my gizzard!  Mm mm!  As soon as I ate my fill, I walked back down to the railroad switching yards.  There I set up my camp.  It hadn’t taken me long to gather fire wood, and start a nice camp fire.  As I sat in my dome tent, I thought about how great it would be to drink a few cold beers!  After letting my fire settle a tad, I walked back to the store on the corner and went inside, this time for cold, refreshing beer.  Then back to camp I walked.  Ah, how once again my taste buds cheered in joy!  This time I bought Budweiser beer instead of my usual cheap Milwaukee’s Best brand, being that I now had extra money on me.  I drank several cold, refreshing beers as I warmed my hands by my camp fire.  It had not been long when I heard a voice say, “Is that you mate?”  I right away knew the voice.  It was the guy who let me clean the front-end of his boat for $30.00.  I said, “Yes sir, it’s me!” 

He walked into camp and plopped himself down on a small, broken fir stump.  I looked around and found a small log of my own to sit on.  He said that he had followed me to the store and had seen where I had set camp.  He then asked all sorts of questions of me like, why did I ride freight trains, why did I prefer sleeping outside in a tent, instead of getting a house or apartment; things of this nature.  He liked me because of how “unstable” I was in that I had no permanent place.  Once he found out that I more or less was a transient and I would work anywhere, he then asked if I would be interested in working for him on his fishing boat as a slimer for room and board.  I had done sliming work many times and places before while up in Alaska from Dutch Harbor to Nunivak Island.  It was no biggie to me whether or not I got all nasty from sliming fish in preparing them for sale. To be a slimer on his boat would be a dream come true at this point!  I would be able to travel and work at the same time!

I was then told he was going up north.  He knew people in the township of Godthaab, Greenland, and this is where we would do most our fishing work.  After boarding his boat I was introduced to his entire crew.  Everybody on his boat was like family.  After fishing with these guys several weeks, I had become part of their family.  We all drank beer, so it was no secret to anybody that all of us had some form of alcoholic problem.  This was great, because if another person was feeling a bit shaky, a beer was never too far away to get one back going again!

This is the harbor of Nuuk Godthaab, Greenland where we offloaded most our fish catch.

We fished for Herring and sometimes other illegal fish species in very small amounts. Though they always hated illegal fishing, they only did it during really tough times!  Only enough illegal fish were needed to keep fuel in the tanks.  This was only done two times to my knowledge, and only with about 75 pounds of fish.  We would sell our fish to larger canneries at various ports along the Greenland and Iceland coasts.  These canneries would then process the fish further more by filleting, then freezing them. 

This was not too far from Nuuk Harbor, Greenland.

After being with these guys for several months, I gave in to the boredom. I debarked their outfit in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  I eventually made my way back into the freight train scene by autumn.  I then made my way out to the west coast of North America along the Oregon and northern California coastlines. I had found a bit of fishing work there, but then grew quickly tired of the fishing scene so back into my normal way of life as a hobo once again I fell!

I miss working on fishing boats every now and then. Perhaps one day I may wash another boat for $30.00 and catch a ride this time to Australia or even better yet, Antarctica!

Protected: Deported from St. John’s, Newfoundland, to Barrow, Alaska, and the cops who used my bad situation to their advantage!

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Newfoundland, the smaller Alaska.

Newfoundland is located in Canada’s Maritime.  It’s such a beautiful place!   Newfoundland has the look and feel much like Alaska does.  The island is roughly 600 miles long from east to west and perhaps 350 miles long from north to south at its longest points.  Newfoundland has Fir trees and Spruce trees and jagged coastlines just as Alaska does as well.

I had ridden a freight train out of the Rigby Yards in South Portland, Maine on a lumber railcar that had been loaded with plywood.  I had to squeeze in between two stacks of this in order to fit and ride out of sight.  As I rolled northward along the Maine coast, I was in total awe at how beautiful the Atlantic Northeast states of the USA were!  I had ridden up out of New York, Massachusetts and New Hampshire the week prior, and now was almost out of Maine entirely! 

As night time fell upon me at the Canadian/USA border, I was anxious to get across the border and into New Brunswick.  I had made the decision to visit Newfoundland for my first time and didn’t want to get turned back at the border, so I had decided on an illegal crossing.  This was the first of May 1992 and getting through the border even then was a hassle, so finally after waiting about eighteen hours at the railroad bridge that crosses the St. Croix River out of Vanceboro, Maine and into Canada, I hopped up into an empty boxcar on a train that had made its way onto the bridge while crossing into Canada.

I rode all the way into the Island Yard in St. John, New Brunswick, in one ride!  Usually there at the border the trains will swap out locomotive units then continue on, but this had never been done, so this was to my advantage!  Once in the Island Yard, I right away saw a freight waiting on clearance to leave out onto the mainline!  So I high-stepped it over to where this train waited and scanned the entire length of it for a ride.  I found another empty boxcar roughly 40 car lengths back from the head end and I got up inside.  After waiting around 30 minutes we pulled.  We made our way along the rougher dark track territory lines of coastal New Brunswick until we reached Nova Scotia.

Dark Track areas are train lines that have no computer switches, electric signaling systems and usually are in worse shape than the higher maintained lines, so slower speeds are required along these areas, thus making your trip actually even better, being that you have a chance at seeing even more out of the boxcar doorway!

After I had reached the draw-bridge that spans the waterway inlet near the township of Aulac/Sackville, I felt that I had gone far enough into Canada where I wouldn’t raise any suspicions of me being in the country illegally, and even if I did get caught, I would just say that I crossed the border legally into Canada at Detroit/Windsor!   So I stuck out my thumb and caught a ride all the way to North Sydney, Nova Scotia.  Here I eventually boarded the biggest ferry I ever saw in my life!  It was the Joseph Smallwood passenger/vehicle ferry, and for a walk on one-way passenger fare then of $16.00, I got an eight hour ride from the ferry terminal in Nova Scotia to Port Aux Basque, Newfoundland.  What an awesome ferry ride!  She had a casino on board, they played a movie in the small movie theater, and all in all, this ferry could hold 1,200 passengers and 350 vehicles, as well as 18-wheelers and busses!  I crossed roughly 110 miles of iceberg infested waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence!  What a majestic ride!

After reaching Port Aux Basque ferry terminal, I had already talked to many people that were riding with me on the ferry and had found a ride all the way across Newfoundland to its capital of St. John’s!  Beautiful as could be!  Newfoundland reminded me so much of Alaska!  Its beauty! Its majesty! The vividly colored wild-flowers that grew up from the roadside like a crowd rising to give a standing applaud!  This was great!

We drove all the way into St. John’s and the driver dropped me off at the Salvation Army homeless shelter downtown off Water Street where I begged for a room for the night at least until I could get out the next day and hunt for a place to set up my camp.  I was given one free night here, but would soon find out why I must now leave.

Once I had been given a room, the Salvation Army director took my sign-in application and called immigration on me.  The next morning I had a visit from Immigration Officer Greg Powers.  Mr. Powers was a silver haired Newfie.  His shoulders were just as broad as the ferry I rode over to Newfoundland on!  He asked for me to come with him so that we could talk privately.  I thought perhaps they knew of my illegal entrance, but what had happened is, the Salvation Army director had called immigration and had stated that I was from the USA and had no money, or way of supporting myself while I was in Canada, thus I was deported my first time and flown back to Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  I had to stay at this Salvation Army four days before my papers had been put in order and I had gone to my immigration hearing. 

I had a nice flight back to the USA, but I had only been in Newfoundland those very few days and I wanted more!  So after a four month stay back in the USA, I made my way back to Canada’s Newfoundland once again!  This time around, I managed to meet a nice gal to where I had stayed at her place for roughly three weeks.  I had been spotted by the same immigration officer I had prior, and he reported seeing me again!  I thus was deported my second time!  This time at least I got to get a taste of Newfoundland.  This deportation, I was flown all the way to Barrow, Alaska!  When you are being deported, Canada will send you back anywhere that you state that you want to go as long as it’s in your country of origin.

This here is St. John’s harbor in beautiful Newfoundland.

This is the ferry terminal in Port aux Basques, Newfoundland.  It takes about eight hours to cross the channel from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland on the Joseph Smallwood ferry.

My train ride into the Appalacian winter storm!

This is a “Marc” public transit train.  I rode from King Street to downtown Washington DC. Also to get out to where the CSX yards are.

I just got out of jail in Thomasville, Georgia where I had spent 16 days in custody for Railroad Trespassing.  I had gotten caught sleeping inside an old caboose that sat down in the switching yards.  I could not post $250.00 bail, so I had to sit in jail until my court date! 

After getting released from myiron bar hotel, I hopped a freight train out of Thomasville and rode to Waycross, Georgia.  After arriving, I built myself a campfire then walked into town.  I was so hungry!  Once inside the Piggly Wiggly, I come across hot dogs that were on sale.  Wow!  Fifty cents for a package of hot dogs?  Must have been a really old cow, chicken and pig?  Getting back to camp was a bit harder than getting to the store.  As I was just about back on railroad property when a large cup of ice water had been thrown out of a vehicle window on me!  I was soaking wet from my neck to my belt.  Usually that only happened to me when I took my backpack, inviting something like this.  (I only had a small plastic grocery bag).  It was a carload of kids that had nothing better to do I guess. 

After scarfing down eight hot dogs and putting out me fire, I hopped on another train that had pulled out of the yards just as I put my fire out.  I made my way northward through Rocky Mount, North Carolina.  From Rocky Mount, I stayed on my train, being that I still had a pretty full stomach and plenty of water as well.  The next morning I rolled into Washington DC.  I didn’t want to end up in the huge switching yards there, so I bailed off on the mainline once we slowed down enough that I could safely do so.  Washington DC has their own metro-rail system for public transportation needs.  This system is the “Marc Transit”. 

I had hopped off my boxcar near the King Street depot and boarded the Marc and rode it into downtown DC.  I had never in my life seen so many homeless people as here in DC!  Everywhere that I look there were homeless walking around even asking me for spare-change!  I boarded back on the Marc and rode to the end of their line in the township of Frederic, Maryland.

Once off the Marc rail transit train, I walked not too far to a small railroad switching yard owned by the CSX Railroad Company and caught out on a westbound freight train that was headed for Chicago.  The next morning I had made it into the town of Cumberland, Maryland.  There was a huge CSX switching yard here.  I bailed off my train then scampered off the property as quickly as I could, then made my way to a Radio Shak electronics store.  I wanted a new weather radio.  I had gotten my NOAA weather radio stolen from my property items while I was in jail in Georgia a couple of days before and never could prove that one of the property keepers there at the jail had taken it home, being that it was such a nice unit.  For an on sale price of $29.99 I treated myself to a new radio here, then walked to the library to read until it was dark enough to sneak back into the railroad yards to find an empty boxcar to sleep inside.

This was the middle of December and the weather had, so far, been unseasonably warm for Appalachia.  Temperatures were running in the mid-50’s for daytime highs.  I had just bought a new sleeping bag about four weeks before, but it was a lighter brand and was not rated for temps lower than 40 degrees.  I needed to keep an ear out for the very latest cold weather reports so I could prepare for it by getting a thicker bed roll, after all, I sure didn’t want to be caught out in the frost-filled night having this skinny bed roll by itself!

After it had gotten dark, I left the library and walked cautiously back into the switching yard.  I had always had problems with the bulls in this Cumberland yard. I found an empty boxcar and hopped up into it.  I laid out my sleeping gear and turned on my new weather radio.   It must have been the high mountains around the area and being inside the steel boxcar because I could not get any reception at all on the radio.  Finally I fell to sleep about 2 AM.

Boom, bang, bang, boom, eeeeeerk!  My boxcar started moving around at 5 AM.  When I got inside the boxcar the night before, I thought that for sure I would not be going anywhere during the night because the air hoses on each end of my boxcar had not been sewn up.  What happened was, yard workers had sewn the set of cars up that my boxcar was on during the pre-dawn hours while I slept.  I could have gotten off if I had been rolled up and packed away, but since my bed roll and most of my clothing was lying out on the boxcar floor, it would have taken me ten minutes to pack it all away.  I sat inside the boxcar and rode out of the yards onto the mainline.   What pure luck!  Away I rolled westbound.

This is a “CSX” freight train heading into the switching yards in Cumberland, MD.

After daybreak, the sky looked thick and dark with heavy wet clouds in all directions.  A winter storm was on its way!  As we slowly crawled up higher and higher into the Appalachian Mountains the temperature was falling rapidly along with freezing precipitation.  It was a slow climb up into he mountains too.  By the time I had gotten to the highest point along this route, snow was falling heavier than I had ever seen anywhere in 49 states before!  Snow was so deep that it was as high as the bottom of the boxcar on the outside to each side of the train!  The railroad snow plows had been working this route most of the day so it was as if I were rolling inside a giant crack in the Earth, having nearly five feet of snow on each side of my boxcar.  Snow had been blowing into my boxcar all morning, so there was not one square inch of the floor that was not covered with at least six inches of the white stuff! 

After cresting the highest point on the route, we started heading back down the west side of the Appalachians and into warmer climate.  Things started thawing and getting soaking wet.  By the time I was out of the mountains, the snow had mostly all melted inside my boxcar leaving everything wet and dripping.

After walking back and forth the entire trip inside the boxcar in order to stay warm, we rolled into the town of Conway, Pennsylvania, for our second crew change since my journey started in Cumberland, Maryland.  What had happened is, we had taken the north branch route out of Connellsville, PA during the night, thus taking me into the Conway Yards.  I then bailed off here and found a laundry mat and dried my gear out and this time I made sure I listened to the weather report completely, this way I would know what type weather to expect for my next train ride that would take me on into Chicago land.

 

Grand Trunk Railway employees are good track people.

Grand Trunk Railroad locomotive

Heading up to Chicago on this winter day was a frigid one indeed!   I had hopped a freight train out of the Swift Yards in Poplar Bluff, Missouri, on the Union Pacific Railroad and was now heading north.  I had just crossed the Mississippi River over one of Illinois and Missouri’s oldest rail bridges nearing the town of Scott City where we had our crew-change.  I got ready to bail off my boxcar here because I had started running low on supplies. 

Scott City, Missouri is a nice, small town that sets between St. Louis and Poplar Bluff,  If you were to need to walk to Cape Girardeau, Missouri, it would only take you about one hour to do so.   This day I would not be walking that far, but did need to walk to the store so I could resupply my food bag.   Having no money on me at this time, I found myself a flap of cardboard, took out my black Magic-Marker and wrote in large, clear, fat letters, a small statement that read:  “TRAVELING.  NEED ANY FOOD HELP.  GOD BLESS YOU”.   I sat at the exit light to where traffic exits from Interstate 55 and has to stop at the redlight in order to turn right or left at the road that tee’s after the light.   I sat here for about ten minutes until a small compact car pulled up to stop at the redlight.   Her window rolled down about half ways and this nice lady gave me a McDonald’s bag with two cheeseburgers and then handed me a ten dollar bill!   The next help came from an off duty policeman.  He rolled his window down and handed me a five dollar bill!  After around 45 minutes here at this corner, I had enough food and money then.  So I could now safely buy all the other food that I didn’t get there at that corner.  Plus I now had roughly $78.00.

Later that night, another train came in from the south that I boarded and rode all the way into St. Louis, Missouri.   Within two hours I had caught-out and now was heading even further north toward Chicago.   On the outskirts of Chicago, on the south side, I jumped off my train at a four-way railroad crossover where one train crosses another trains right of way.  This, of course, is as loud as any noise that you could ever imagine!   Steel wheels rolling over and across the steel rails that overlap themselves even amplifies the sound even greater!  It’s like holding your head inside a 55 gallon drum while letting somebody smash it with a sledge hammer as hard as they can!   After waiting here at this crossing until right after dark, a grain train came along slow enough to where I could run alongside and hop up onto a grainer railcar.

I had rolled into South Bend, Indiana around 5 AM the next morning.  We had to stop for clearance in order to cross off of the Conrail’s right of way so my train could roll northward onto the Grand Trunk Railroad’s right of way.   This morning the mercury was reading about 12 degrees!   I had a small Coleman one burner propane stove that I lit and warmed my hands over until I woke up all the way.   After getting all the way thawed out, I went ahead and took out my small skillet that I had wrapped up in a plastic grocery bag and set it atop my stove.  I fried about a pound of bacon that I had brought along from Scott City.   Mm mm!  The smell was so good!  I ate a breakfast that was meant for a king, I thought!

It was almost noon when I rolled into Battle Creek, Michigan, on this train.   I got off right outside the yard-limits and walked about a mile.  I was going to buy a cup of hot coffee, but as I walk down the tracks, a Grand Trunk Railroad employee rolled up in his work truck from behind me.  He rolled down his window and told me that if I wanted to, I could camp behind the roundhouse in the thick woods that lay behind.   I accepted his awesome offer.   I placed my gear in the rear bed of his truck then we drove to where the roundhouse was.   It had taken me about 15 minutes to set up my tent.   I now was too tired to walk for a cup of coffee, so I got inside my tent and went to sleep.

The next morning I was surprised to find a cigar box outside the flap of my tent.  I looked all around and saw nobody that could have left it either, so I picked up the cigar box and looked inside.  There lay a small, orange, New Testament Bible and two fifty dollar bills!  I thought wow!  Who could have done this for me?!   I camped out here in my tent for many days.  I started getting more hours at the day labor outfit that I was working at.   After about two weeks of day labor jobs, I had saved up enough money to finally fly back up to Alaska.

I caught-out from Battle Creek, Michigan and rode into Detroit, Michigan, to where I bought a fairly cheap one way flight from Detroit to Anchorage for $177.00.  I still wonder who it was that gave me the two $50.00 bills!   I still believe it was the Grand Trunk Railroad employee that I met my first day in Battle Creek.

You never know who you are going to run into while you are down and out.  I’m just very thankful I met this wonderful Grand Trunk employee!

After winning in Las Vegas, I lost big time on the tracks!

This is a Union Pacific coal train passing through Las Vegas, Nevada.

I had been hopping freight trains in Southern California for about two weeks until I had gotten tired of the same old things, and I chose then to ride up to Salt Lake City for a while.

I caught-out of Los Angeles and rode north on the Union Pacific Railroad to the first crew-change at Yermo, California just eight miles north of Barstow.   Yermo is most likely the worse methamphetamine infested area of California, and this area is rightly called the “High Dessert” for this reason.

After I had made it out of the huge switching yards there, I walked to the small corner store and called Dial-A-Ride for a lift back south into Barstow.    “Dial-A-Ride” is a small city bus service in the area to where you can call them and they will drive out to pick you up.   Once I got off the bus in Barstow, I walked to the homeless shelter mission there and asked if I could take a hot shower since it had been roughly a full week having gone without!   I was treated pretty good here and also was given a couple days worth of canned food.   After camping for two days in Barstow, I was ready to ride again.

After making my way back to Yermo on Dial-A-Ride, I caught-out again on the UP Railroad.  I rode all the way into downtown Las Vegas, Nevada, hopped off my train and walked to the Greyhound Bus station in order to lock my backpack inside a locker so I could comfortably walk down on Fremont Avenue without being bothered by the city police.  All I had to my name as far as cash was $9.00.  I went up to the teller at the Cajun Casino and had her give me $9.00 worth of quarters.  I walked right up to a KENO gaming machine and plopped in four quarters at a time.  I was picking five numbers in hopes that the machine would pick my five.  It finally happened about $3.00 into my game!  I hit all five number bubbles that I had marked!  I won $202.50!  Wow!  I have never won anything in my life and now I had nearly 20 times more money than I came to Vegas with.  I thought that I had better spend one night at a cheap motel, now that I had a bit of money on me. So I grabbed my gear from the Greyhound lockers and walked east of Fremont Avenue down to where the scumbag motels are. Crack, meth, and anything that you can imagine, you can get in Las Vegas!  The cheap priced motel was what I was looking for.  I finally found one that had vacancy. I bought a one night stay there and slept pretty good.

The next day I walked down to an overpass that traverses the train tracks and walked down underneath then sat waiting on my next train north.  After several trains had come and had gone, still no ridable cars had passed.  I sat in somewhat sorrow when just then, at nearing 6 PM, a Double-Stack train pulled up to do its crew-change!  “Double-Stacks” are freight trains that haul these 48 foot long containers that are loaded with anything from car parts to candy canes!  They are stacked one atop the other.  These are priority trains.  This means they have priority over less important trains, so they can really make great time if you are riding on these.  So I loaded my backpack and bedroll onto it then pulled myself up onto a railcar and sat down on top of my gear while waiting to leave.

Finally after about two hours, we started pulling north.   We hadn’t gone far when we again stopped in a siding about seven miles north of town.   I thought that perhaps we were waiting on another train to pass us inside the siding, but this was not the case, and I was soon to find out why we had stopped.  

It had just about gotten dark outside.  We again started moving.  I looked toward the front of the train, up toward the locomotive units and noticed right away that a railroad police officer had climbed up the ladder on a signal pole and was shining his flashlight on the train containers.  What was going on, I thought.  It was now too late for me to have bailed off, so I just sat back down on my pack and waited to get seen and busted. I did!   He ordered the engineer to stop his train, and he took his gun out and pointed it at me then screamed, “Get off the train right now mother fucker”!  “Let me see your hands right now mother fucker, or I’ll blow your God damned head off”!  I did exactly what he said.  I jumped off while still holding my hands in the air.  He hand cuffed me then slammed me to the gravel, then placed ankle cuffs on me.   I said, “All this for trespassing”?    He then said, “Trespassing my mother fucking ass”!  “You are going to prison for federal railroad burglary”!  I said, “Burglary”?!  What do you mean burglary”?  

What had happened is that somebody/someones had got on the train and broke into 21 different containers and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  In order for him to make his report look good to his superiors, he had to nail someone for the crime, and what no better person than someone riding on the train already.  I was then taken to the Clark County jailhouse and booked on Federal Burglary, Trespassing, and impeding the movement of a railroad train.  My bail was set at $50,000!

I kept trying to tell him to take fingerprints!  I also told him that he would not, by any means, try to pin this on me!  I pissed him off when I added that he wasn’t a good enough cop to catch the real thieves, and that he was such a terrible railroad cop that he could only catch a hobo instead of catching the real culprits. Of course this didn’t help me out any by making him steaming mad.  He knew that I wasn’t the one who did the burglaries. 

21 containers supposedly had been broken into and all I had on me besides my gear was a .49 cent P-38 can opener and I was supposed to have used this for a burglary tool.  I could hardly open up a can of “Soon to be farting” brand beans with this can opener, let alone a thick cast iron shank seal!

This was a Friday evening when I was arrested, so I wasn’t taken to court until the following Monday morning, and even then, this would only be my arraignment and not the time to plea guilty or not guilty.   After the lady judge called my name to stand up, she said, “Time Served”.  She said that there was absolutely no evidence of me being involved in this crime, thus my charges were all dropped! 

After getting my street clothes back, I walked to the Greyhound bus station once again and bought myself a bus ticket up the line and out of stinking Clark County!  I got off the bus in Saint George, Utah about four hours later, then hitch-hiked about 30 miles west to Milford, Utah crew-change.  I finally hopped out on another freight train that took me on up to Salt Lake City, Utah, then points east.

Narcotics and freight trains, what went wrong?

CN train crew change at Sudbury, Ontario.

I have now been sober since December 2nd of 2006.   For nearly 17 years while hopping freight trains, I was drinking right at about 45 to 50 cans of beer a day, every day, 365 days a year for 17 years solid!   So after I stopped this nonsense, I thought that things now were going to be looking up for me!

I had just flew down from Alaska about June of 2007.  I flew from Anchorage to Seattle, Washington for a cheap one-way price of $212.00.   I had been up in Alaska doing my hobo thing for roughly three months, but had started getting board of the Alaska Railroad, so by coming back to the lower 48, I now would have lots more railroads to hop.

After leaving the Sea-Tac Airport, I took a city bus to downtown Seattle to where I then took another city bus on north from Seattle to Everett, Washington where I would start riding freight trains again.   As soon as I got off the city bus in Everett, I walked down to where Broadway Avenue crossed over the BNSF Railroad switching yards.   I skimmied down the embankment of the bridge down to level ground to where the mainlines of the BNSF Railroad ran.  I already had all the food that I could carry with me inside of my backpack, so after waiting about two hours, a train finally rolled north out of the small Everett yards.

At this point in the year the temperatures were on their way up being that summer was still to come and I had planned on making the most out of the rails this summer and fall.  I had given it a few thoughts of riding freight trains back up in Canada too, so as I rolled northbound on my boxcar that I had caught in Everett.  I had made the decision to go ahead and enter into Canada through the border crossing in the small township of Sumas, Washington.

I rode north until I reached the town of Bellingham, Washington about 50 miles more north from Everett.  Since I had been deported twice in four months from Newfoundland, Canada back in 1992, I was no longer allowed into Canada, so sneaking across the border for me now was a must.   After reaching Bellingham, I then once again boarded another city bus and rode up to the town of Sumas.   After getting off the bus, I walked about one mile and stopped in at the Sumas library where I would wait until dark before I tried crossing the border.

Soon it was dark enough that I could walk from the library down to the BP gas station where I would change over what little USA currency I had on me over to Canadian currency.   I wound up getting two loonies, four toonies, and a Canadian five dollar bill.  (That’s $10.00 Canadian from about $8.55 US that I had on my person).   After getting my last cheap pack of cigarettes at the Tax/Duty Free store for $4.99,  I cautiously walked alongside the main hiway and looked behind me, then in front of me until I saw no other cars, trucks or people looking my way.  I dashed across the small ditch and alongside the tree-line that was on the west-side of the railroad tracks!

I was still inside the USA where I sat in the woods at the tree-line until the Union Pacific Railroad pulled a small length train to one end of the tiny yard that was there. I had stopped right at the last switch.  I hopped up onto a grainer/covered-hopper railcar and hid inside the small round open-end hole on the end-frame of the car.  This small hole was just big enough to where I could fit tightly inside.  The train eventually started moving again back in the other direction toward the border where it finally had crossed back into Canada with me riding this time!

After a long, slow and tight ride on this railcar, we had traveled about four miles north of the border before I got off.  It was so dark too thank God!  I then walked and walked and walked until I got to the town of Abbotsford.  Here the Trans Canadian Hiway ran through Abbotsford where I then took a Greyhound bus down the hiway far enough so I would not look suspicious having a backpack.   (After all, I  looked like a Canadian hitch-hiker to any RCMP should they pass me now)!

I now was in the small town of Hope.  The Canadian Pacific Railroad traversed through Hope, but normally didn’t stop here.  So hopping out of Hope by way of freight train was going to be a challenge for me, or so I thought.   I made camp down alongside the Coldwater Creek area where there were several other campsites already made, so I blended into the surroundings pretty good.  The next day I had one of the worse toothaches that I had ever had in a very long time, so I went to the emergency room and gave a false name so I could be seen.   I showed the on-call doctor my tooth that was bothering me.   He said that he thought it looked abscessed to him so he wrote me out a prescription for an antibiotic and also for a strong pain killer.   The name of the pain killer was “Hydromorph”.   (Canada’s version of a blend of Hydrocodone and Morphine)!  I was given a total of 20 pills to take over a three to four day time period for the pain until I could have the tooth pulled.

Kamloops train yard. These are nice grain hoppers to ride just waiting and calling out to me!

After I had taken 10 to 12 of these little pills, I felt as if I owned the world!  I could do anything while taking these pills I thought!   So after taking the entire bottle of 20 pills by the second day, I wanted more!   Thats OK, as long as I had this bad, sore tooth I could get more.  Later that night I had finally caught-out on a CP freight train and had ridden east as far as the town of Kamloops.  As soon as I pulled into this town, I again went to the emergency room and again gave a false name and showed the doctor my tooth as well.  I there too was given another script for this wonderful Hydromorph.  Man it was so, so nice to be able to get high without smelling like booze, having sloshy speech or walking stupor down the sidewalks!  I now had it made in the shade.  I had now unknowingly transformed my addiction from ethanol over to narcotics!    (I had only traded in the glass bottle for the plastic bottle)!   I had only stopped one drug for another, but hadn’t yet realized it!

After I had taken this second bottle of 20 pain pills in only 18 hours, I noticed the next morning that I was getting shaky from the effects of withdrawals.   I needed more and I needed them now!   I was now only hopping freight trains in order to get myself to a new town, to a new hospital emergency room!

This is the famous Spiral Tunnel that wraps around through the Canadian Rockies.  (The freight train below is actually the train I’m riding on)!

The third time I had gotten a bottle of 40 pills for the pain being that I was starting to get smarter in how I told the doctors of the extent of my pain.   I was now conning my way into these ER places.   I would exaggerate my pain to the fullest and it would work every single time in getting me a new prescription, and the scripts kept getting stronger in milligrams and more in the number of pills that I was given each time too.   After my second week at drug-seeking, each ER visit would grant me a bottle of 60 pills by now and were ranging from Hydromorph to Oxycodone!  I now was having severe withdrawals when I woke in the mornings, so I would have to take 15 pain pills at one time and swallow them only after chewing them up into a powder-like paste so they would enter my system faster once they hit my stomach.   I now was severely addicted but this would soon end!

This is the train switching yard in Hamilton, Canada where I took yet another hospital emergency room visit to get more pain pills. 

Right at an even solid month of taking narcotic pain killers by way of drug-seeking, I was in the small town of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.   I had slept under a bridge that crossed over the CP Rail yards and low and behold a railroad police officer seen me.  He drove up under the bridge where I lay and asked had I been hopping the freight trains.   I told him that I was from the USA and was only trying to get home where I lived in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.   He took my Alaska state ID-card and did a background-check on me and the results had come back OK.   I had no warrants at all to speak of, so he then asked me if he could drive me to the hi way so that I could catch a ride to the border and head home.   I was shaking so badly from the narcotic withdrawals that I asked him if he would take me to the hospital so I could get checked out by a doctor being that my abscessed tooth was bothering me.   So he took me to the ER and dropped me there then he drove off.

I entered the hospital and went through my routine of pain, and misery then I was taken back to a room and given a small paper medicine-cup that had six Morphine 20mg pain pills in it to take for the pain with a paper cup full of water.   No more than 20 minutes had passed to when two Moose Jaw RCMP officers walked into my room.  The one officer said to me, “Do you know why we are here”?   I said, “Yes sir!” “You are here because I finally have been busted for drug-seeking”!   Nope!  This is not at all why they were here!   (I now wished that I had another paper cup full of water so I could wash down my foot with)!  Ha ha!

What had happened was that the railroad police officer ran my Alaska state ID-card only with a regular local check.   He later ran me through immigration after he had dropped me off at the hospital.  The prior deportations had shown up on his computer, thus he then called the RCMP and they then came to the ER and took me into custody for illegal entry into a country without first having written consent of the Prime Minister.   This was a felony in Canada!   I then was taken to the Moose Jaw jail to where I really lay in terrible pain and withdrawals!   After roughly 76 hours in custody, I was having seizures and hallucinations my withdrawals had gotten so horrific!  I was again taken back to the same hospital to where I was hooked up to an IV-line and given a large dose of narcotics for both the pain and the withdrawals.

After four days in costody in Moose Jaw, I had a visit from an immigration officer.   He explained to me that I would soon be taken to the city of Regina, Saskatchewan where I could be closer to where my immigration hearing would be taking place and also the court proceedings that were to take place were here as well.  After 13 days of being in jail, I went to federal court and the judge gave me a suspended sentence of “Time Served”, thus I was then handed back over to the immigration officials to where I again was arrested and again placed back into jail.

I now was only being held until my immigration hearing could proceed.  After this hearing, it of course was determined that I would be deported my third time.  The whole time I was in custody, I was very slowly being detoxed down off the narcotics.  My first five days I was given five pain pills a day that were 60mg in strength, then five days after that, 40mg a day, but only three pain pills a day and so on until I had been totally taken off the narcotics safely.

I spent a grand total of 27 days in costody before finally being taken to the border town of Portal, North Dakota and let out on my own in the USA.

I think that this was a life lesson, in that I could have died had I not been taken to jail!   I most likely would have eventually taken too many pills and overdosed on accident.   I now look back on this horrific experience and thank God that I did go to jail and was detoxed safely from the narcotic pain pills!  I had the bad tooth extracted and have not taken one single pain pill since.

I believe life is full of learning lessons, some have to be more hard than others if you are to ever learn that lesson.