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Brian Cray - Hitchhikin', Trainhoppin', and Wanderin'

Wanderin' the world, at will, by any means

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Bippin’ in Texas with the Misfit 4

Bippin’ – Bum In Public – Day ? – Excerpt

Panting and slobber filled the air early morning. As Pam stretched her hind legs and limbered up, the rest of the crew tried to squeeze out a few last minutes of sleep, before giving into the blistering heat. I lay there half-zonked pulling my sleeping bag over my head to savor my last minutes of comfort while the others started to pack up. Todd pulled his tent stakes out of the ground, and broke down his tent poles, while Doug knelt on the ground cocooning his bedroll. His grunting forced his bottom lip to curl out as he wrestled to quickly bungee it to his pack. I shook my head holding back laughter, squinting into the sinister sky, rubbing my eyes one last time. I did not know who looked goofier, him working over an inanimate object like an oaf or his dog drooling with her red, fruit roll-up tongue that dangled between her toothless canal. Read More

Train Hopping

The Bipolar Express

This vessel of emotion is like a sinking ship.  

He tries to mend the wound, but the stitches are infinite.  

To mask intense sorrow with a hedonistic lifestyle allows the depiction of happiness, through chase.  

But, the demons always run rampant through his mind.  

He travels thousands of miles to escape this agony, this exhausting beast, and acquire a few moments of rapture among the iron snake.

Once he disembarks he always finds himself walking down that same dark road of sorrow, drowning in his thoughts, antsy to wander.   Read More

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Train Hopping

A Night on the Steel

Slowly I tiptoe
Shadows drown glistening steel
She creeps to a halt

I wait patiently
Grass joins the chorus of wind
Whirs fade to a hiss

I jump to my feet
She starts rolling inch by inch
Rocks slip under foot

I clench her brisk rung
Throwing myself on the porch
I take off my pack

I hear the howling
She hums on the narrow steel
I fade to darkness

Squished in the foxhole
I embrace my solitude
Rapture resonates

My eyes breathe beauty
We are all misfits riding
Setting our minds free

Oh how I love it
Where will her tracks take me now
Wake up miles away Read More

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Train Hopping

8 Thumbs and a Dog Goin’ East

Dosin’ on Doug

Another lugubrious day squished my spirits right from the moment I awakened. I slept by the side of the road the night prior, bivy in the desert sand, between brittle bushes free of leaves, with dead tumbleweeds bouncing around through the gusts of her fury. That slight chill, cooling my sunburn, erasing the touch of fire against my skin quickly vanished with the clear blue sky. That good old Texas sun snarled down at me and with each mile I tired to a plodding pace seeking refuge under any lone tree or viaduct by the I-10. Read More

Kicked in the Face by a Moose

Stuck Hitchhiking Van Horn, Texas

When I first stepped out of the police vehicle my wrists pained from the cuffs jamming into my bones. A red groove appeared under each cuff as the officer twisted the key, removing them as he pointed down the road.

“County line is here kid…this is as far as we can take ya…got a good walk ahead of ya to Van Horn, but shouldn’t be too bad.”

He paused and hocked up a wad, tobacco residue dribbled down his stubbly chin staining it brown. Ptui! His spit ricocheted off the ground just missing my leg as I held back scorn and disgust. Read More

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