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Train Hopping

After three years of travel by foot, bicycle, bus and plane, Brian Cray hopped his first freight train outta Flagstaff, AZ, riding blind on a boxcar on the Southern Transcon.  He had no idea what he was doing or where he was going, but somewhere between the chaos, the innocence, the paranoia, train hopping stuck with him through the years, flowing in his gypsy blood.  Now he spends his free time between jobs wandering the country by freight train whenever he has the money and the time.

The Cold and Lonely 11R

I hopped on the 11R on one of the coldest nights since I started this trip, at 2 degrees Fahrenheit, catching out of East Deerfield under the moonlit sky.  I spent that...

The Silver Path through an Ivory Blanket

I stepped off the bus and walked straight to the woods, past Emgrem, past Jackson, and tromped right past the Stewart's Shop heading towards the tracks across from the yard, where they...

Echo From the Hills

I woke in the middle of the night to yelps and squeals echoing from up in the hills.  They weren't from a dog and didn't sound like a fox or a coyote,...

Stray Needles in Hartford

A cold sensation dribbled down my face in the darkest hours of night.  I awoke, confused as to what gently touched my stubbles of facial hair.  Rain dripped.  It dropped from the abandoned overhang above my...

The Ocean, Sun and Moon

It comes and goes in waves much like the ocean, the sun and the moon.  It strikes like jolts of lightning and then disappears, lurkin’ underneath, and dwellin’ in the clouds.  This esoteric feelin’ is...