7/7/08: La Grande, OR

I was right not to remove the sleeping bag. I awoke at about 4:45 to the sight of another train passing by very slowly, with me in full sight, only saved by the fact that it wasn't fully light yet. A quick scan of the area quickly showed that we were pulling into a train yard. This bothered me immensely! Like everyone, I've heard the horror stories about the railroad 'bulls'; security thugs who will beat you to a pulp and maybe, as the urban legend goes, shoot you.

We quickly began to try to make ourselves as hidden as possible, but being on the outside of a car, that wasn't very effective. It basically boiled down to hopping onto the side of the car on the opposite side of human eyes. The train NEVER broke 35 mph, and the rail on which we stood was pretty wide, with a natural hand hold to use so it wasn't scary. Kind of fun at first, but that would be something we'd be doing quite frequently through the day.

After we were dodging the yard workers for a short time, the train started to move a short distance out of the yard, and we were thinking we were back on our way. But just after we got out of the main section, our little "Stop n' Go Special" stopped and STAYED stopped. This was at around 5am, and by 5:30 we'd decided to get off the train and hide in some of the sagebrush in case someone came along.

Then we waited....

and waited...

By 7:30 or 8:00 I felt comfortable enough in my little hiding place, and had seen very little activity near us so I rolled some cigs, arranged all me stuff for a quick re-boarding then crawled under a bush into some shade and must have slept for at least an hour and 15 minutes uninterrupted by anything.

Around 10 or 10:15 I heard Rich saying in a loud whisper "Dude, get up... it's leaving!"

After 5+ hours--- it was finally moving again. Just like some of my Amtrak trips!

The joy of moving again was short- lived. It would seem that this train was meant to stop at least every 15 minutes, and would RARELY get over 20- 25 mph. ALL DAY LONG!

Stop...

Wait...

Go slow for 15 minutes...

Stop...

Repeat...

We eventually figured out where we were, and how little progress we were making! By 3pm, we had been on the train for 18 hours, and had gone barley over 200 miles! It was easy, for me anyhow, to remember that I had paid nothing so couldn't really complain, but Rich was having difficulty with that idea. He had been a pretty good travel partner to this point, but about now began his incessant bitching! And whining. Yeah, the progress sucked, and it was frustrating, but you TRAIN HOPPED FOOL! Do you expect a sleeper car on a non-stop? It was about here that I figured I'd get to La Grande, and resume my trip...alone!

La Grande eventually came. To our great relief. We hopped off the train from and proceeded to find a gas station to get some, water and COFFEE! I'd been plagued by headaches all day. I initially attributed them to a lack of caffeine, but in retrospect it may have been Rich's vocal menstruation. Not sure to this day.

It was here that the day provided me with one of the coolest moments of the trip, and essentially slapped me back into line mentally.

I was filling my coffee cup at the gas station, and getting ready to go pay for it when a guy walks in and tells me that he had been waiting for us outside, and asked if we were travelers. I thought it a silly question, since I was carrying a 50# pack, but let that go. I said yes, and he asked "Are you okay on money? Do you have enough to get food?" Of course, money has been a nagging problem for a couple weeks, so I told him I wasn't really sure; not an outright lie! I wasn't!

Then he handed me $5.

He said that he had done a lot of this, and wanted to return some of the help HE'D received along the way. I was dumbfounded, but not totally surprised.

Rich came out of the restroom, I paid for my coffee and Mt. Dew (love my caffeine) then told him about it when we began walking toward the McDonald's, and its Dollar Menu, the guy had told me how to find.

I thought about splitting it with Rich, but I decided not to. He had been continuing his whining since we got off the train, and he obviously had a mild disdain for the town and its people. Maybe life in general, but either way, if he wants to put out that energy, let him; I'll get my 3 Double Cheeseburgers, fries, and another coffee and have even nicer things to say about the fine people in Oregon and La Grande in particular.

On the way to McDonald's I told Rich that I was done with the train hopping. I enjoyed it at night, but having to hide from people all day was draining and I really hated that. The best part of my trip is that, in addition to spectacular scenery and cheap travel, I've met some spectacular people; the guy at the gas station came along at the perfect time to remind me of that. By now, Rich stood in stark contrast to him. I was now hoping Rich would simply go away. I even thought about telling him so, but figured I'd see if his attitude improved first. I liked the guy when he wasn't mimicking the He Bitch.

We got to McDonald's at about 6:00. From there, I decided to head up to the I-84 on- ramp and see about catching a ride. I told Rich he could come along and see how it went with two people, or go catch his train. He was terribly conflicted and really couldn't decide what to do.

I empathized with that! I even offered him the use of my virgin dice.

He came along, and when we went to sit down, lo and behold, along comes the first State Trooper of the trip! He asked what we were up, we told him we were trying to catch a ride, and he said something to the effect that this was a great place to do it, and in fact HE had gotten from Portland to La Grande in about 8 hours once. He wasn't really harassing as much as checking on us, although he did ask for our ID's. He wrote everything down, but didn't run anything. I thought that was odd, but whatever. Normally I have a real problem with searches without probable cause, and figured I may eventually go to jail because of my refusal to submit to an identity search because some ego-driven cop just wants to harass me. This guy wasn't coming off that way, and seemed genuinely interested in what we were doing.

We must have spent 20 minutes chatting with Trooper Madsen on the side of the road, and came away with clear understandings of the hitching and camping laws in Oregon. He even told me of a perfect place to lay out the bedroll that night, and informed me that walking up the interstate was just fine in Oregon. "This aint Washington" he said.

We sat there for probably an hour after the trooper left, and then Rich was heading off to explore his training possibilities. We shook hands, exchanged the obligatory promises to stay in touch, and he was on his way. I was a little sorry to see him go, but not entirely. I was rather enjoying the solitude now, and figured catching a ride with be much easier alone!

I called Laina, and while I was chatting with her, I look over and guess what...

No, not a ride.

Rich.

He's back.

He said he ran into a possible ride with some people who were trying to decide rather or not they were going toward Idaho or Washington. Apparently they said if it turned out to be Idaho, they'd swing by the ramp.

So, Rich was back and seemingly ready to hitchhike. He threw his thumb in the air and was pretty animated about it. Borderline obnoxious, but he got some smiles and waves from people and made thumbing a bit more interesting for awhile.

But no rides.

I decided to bed down at about dusk, told Rich he could hang out, and we could get to the library on Tuesday and try it again; whatever. He decided to stay, and even went and bought a couple 40 oz. beers. We got to talking a bit, and I found out a bit more about him and possibly why he tends to come off as angry.

Again, I can empathize.

It felt great to lie down on something soft and the idea of a good night's sleep REALLY appealed to me after no sleep on the train. I had a long talk with Laina about some things, and came up with an ambitious outline for a plan... I also chatted with Chris about some of the metaphysical aspects of this, which seem to get cut off in some sense when I'm too domesticated.

Just as I was about to doze off, I head a loud cracking of a branch, and shot up thinking someone was coming down to say hello... metaphorically of course.

To my shock, it was a DEER. We were camped out in a little tree grove between the on- ramp & the I-84, and there were two or three deer just milling around in there. They didn't seem to mind us much. A few minutes later, another one arrived, this one a larger buck on the other side of the tree I was under... maybe 6-8 ft. from my feet. I tried to dig out the camera, but the only pic I could get was from about 12- 15 ft.

A nice way to fall asleep: visited by deer and listening to music.

7/6 Leaving Portland:"The Last Great American Adventure"

If you would have told me how THIS day would eventually be ending, I would have laughed you out of the room, especially when I woke up.

I rose pretty early after getting to bed at a decent time, and began preparing to leave, not really knowing exactly how I was going to do it. I had posted an ad on Craigslist's Rideshare the night before on the outside chance I may be able to catch a ride with a charitable person heading toward Colorado... fat chance, but why not?

I figured that I'd probably end up taking the transit system out toward Troutdale and then start hoofing it down US 30 toward Lewis & Clark State Park to check on the Hike & Bike, then take things from there. I was pretty much all set with my 'planning' (HA!) when I got an email from a guy via my Craigslist ad. He wasn't driving, but was also traveling toward Colorado on a limited budget, and suggested that maybe we try hopping a train out of Portland! He had done some research, and was certain that the trains would run into Grand Junction then Denver after that. I was immediately intrigued. It would be a DEFINITE adventure, get me a great distance, and it's impossible to blow money on a train!

We exchanged about 25 emails over about 2 hours. I wanted to make sure the best I could that I wasn't dealing with some sort of a tool, psycho, or otherwise illicit character... save the train hopping thing! It's funny, but you can tell alot about a person by their spelling. If they can't spell simple, yet uncomplicated multi- syllable words, tend to say 'bro' all the time, and show through words the size of their 'manhood', I tend to avoid them. This guy could spell, use a computer, had a gmail account with his real name (presumably), and wasn't trying to 'man- up' for me. I felt reasonably certain he wasn't too much of a vagrant, and thought it would be pretty cool to travel a ways with another person. Plus, he said if the train thing didn't work, he'd be open to hitching or whatever. Why the hell not?

We set up a time to reconnect, exchanged phone numbers (another good sign... he has a phone!) and I finished of the business at Dave's place. He had been working pretty much all day, so I hadn't seen much of him at all. We said our goodbyes, asked him to say goodbye to Bree for me and thank her for sharing all her training- info, and headed off the bus stop to catch the #17 toward downtown and head to REI for, I thought, just Clif Bars.

When I got to the bus stop, I sat patiently for about 35 minutes with no sign of the bus. The thought occurred to me that, perhaps, there was no Sunday service out that way, but I'd been on the Tri- Met website several times checking schedules and it said NOTHING about "No Sunday Service".

Turns out: No Sunday Service.

The only reason I ever found out was that a VERY nice woman turned around, pulled over and informed me with a smile that I'd be waiting all night if I stayed there. She then proceeded to offer me a ride first to the next stop, then said she'd just take me to REI! Seriously, where are all these assholes everyone kept warning me about?

She saw a friend of hers on the way, picked him and his dog up then got me downtown to the REI. She offered me a couch to sleep on the next time I was in Portland, and gave me her phone number. She was such a terrific person. Treated a complete stranger like she'd known him her whole life. I gave her the link to the journal, said thanks, and hopped out in a great mood and excellent outlook on how the day may turn out.

I went into REI and decided to go check, on the outside chance, if they'd give me any grief if I tried to exchange the North Face pants I was wearing that had begun to split "down there". I felt kind of weird about it because the pants were 2 years old, BUT they have the most liberal return policy EVER. If you're EVER not satisfied, you can exchange or return anything. I weighed the honesty and righteousness of it, then pictured the pants splitting in the middle of the woods! That would pretty much suck, so I gave it a shot. Eventually I found the same pants and had no trouble exchanging them whatsoever, so I walked out of REI with 6 Clif Bars and a new pair of pants after spending about $6.50. Not too shabby.

From there it was on to meet up with my new travel partner, Rich. We'd decided to meet at the largest bookstore I've ever seen, Powell Books, which is 3 stories tall, and takes up an entire city block. He got there about 20 minutes after I did, and we walked to a nearby park to get acquainted and scope each other out to see if the other was perhaps a tad psychotic. He doesn't make much of a first impression. He looks the role of a beat- generation train- hopper, with ripped up raggedy jeans, etc. I was hoping that the conversation would be sustainable and that he was pretty laid back. I wasn't so sure of my own ability to hop with all the weight on my back, and needed him to display some patience if that were the case. It seemed that he was exactly that, so as we set off across the bridge into E. Portland, I was cautiously optimistic.

We walked about 25 blocks, stopping for coffee, soda, and cigs, then went to find the spot he had tried and failed to hop from the night before. We eventually got there, relaxed and continued chatting about various things. Then came the first east- bound train. I figured I'd be shitting myself, running next to it trying to grab hold, but it was really no big deal. This train was moving a bit to fast for either of us, and Rich said it was probably no a very good train for us to be aboard anyhow. He had done this in Pennsylvania a number of times and at least knew, to some extent, what he was doing.

We then walked about a mile up the tracks and found a spot where the train would have to be going a bit slower, thereby making our job a bit easier. Just after we got there, at about 9:00, we spied a train stopped at the other side of the bridge. It was loaded with what looked like ship containers full of something from overseas that had just arrived at the port. It began moving, and was just CREEPING along. We hid from the engineers, waited for a moment after they passed then pounced! We got aboard with ease! We were situated outside, on the car itself, but there was a grate- platform, with a depression in the middle that backed up against the car's frame. It was designed so that with me and my backpack inside, there was NO way we could fall off no matter what. I was ecstatic!

The train had 3 or 4 engines, and was relatively long, so Rich figures this one would be going quite a ways, and with few stops, but he thought we were a bit too far toward the front of the train... easy to see when we pulled into the eventual train yards. We were still creeping along, so we hopped off again, and went further back until we were at least 3/4 of the way to the end and found another car with suitable accommodations. Once there, we were off!

Rich was situated on the back of one car, in HIS Union Pacific Hotel space, while I was on the front of the next car directly facing him. I would learn later that I had made a poor choice of sides. Another thing I learned about trains is that they are VERY unforgiving places to be. Not only for life and limb, but also anything you're carrying. EVERYTHING needs to be stowed someplace, or it will find a hole to fall thru and be lost forever. Thankfully, I realized this immediately and was overly cautious with the camera, cell phone, and water bottle. It also became apparent that you need to be prepared to sustain yourself with water when you get aboard, because you're not going to just be running to the 7-11 when you run out! We made that mistake, or at least Rich did, and that would affect things the next day-- for him.

It took quite a while to get out of Portland, so I called Shalain and Friar Chris to tell them exactly how proud I was of myself, and eventually the train picked up a little speed and I settled in to take in the view.

We followed I-84 most of the night along the Columbia River, and through the Columbia Gorge Scenic area, and scenic it was! There are no lights on any of these cars, no night- vision kicks in after a short time- enough that you can see what you're riding through and it was one of the most spectacular parts of the trip so far. A montage of mountains, lakes, rivers, forests, cities, towns, and the largest dam I've ever seen just north of The Dalles. I was hypnotized.

It began to cool down drastically, and since we were on teh outside of the car, I needed to be bundled up in everything I had including my rain pants and coat to break the wind. It would be a cold night. The rain pants would take the brunt of the abuse of the train because while it wasn't as dirty as I expected, it still was far from clean.

Eventually around 3:00 I dozed off curled up in the fetal position and shivering. I had my sleeping bag available to use, but had visions of having to make a quick escape and first needing to repack the bag into the backpack! I decided to shiver for a couple of hours, drifting in and out of a light sleep. No REAL sleep to speak of.

The night, even with the cold, was great. But this train made frequent unexplained stops, and was obviously low- priority because it would seem to stop for EVERY other train that passed. That was fine at night, and when the experience was new and exciting, but would become maddening in just a few hours...