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The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book, “Tales Of Life On Tour”.
After a big lap around the world, it was time to return to the US as I still had some ties there.
Minor problem – I was barred from the country due to an overstay. I had some information from a freight hopper that it was possible to cross from Canada. I arrived in the city and booked a room for a few days, I wasn’t sure how long it would take, I was very nervous if I’m being honest. I told myself that many people had crossed the southern border undetected, and surely the northern border was much easier.
Almost everyone I talked to about doing this told me that I was probably going to get caught, as well as there was constant news about ICE raids and ramped-up border security under the new administration.
I went to the small yard where I was trying to catch out from, it didn’t seem like the greatest spot to try to hide at, it was a busy industrial area on one side, and a highway on the other side.
So I decided to try to wait at a bridge underneath the tracks, and wait till the next southbound train approached, and run to it. I doodled on the rusty metal bridge supports until I emptied the white-out markers I had and I waited the entire day until night-time – not a single train passed.
I was appalled when I checked my Google maps and realized that I was waiting at the wrong spot, the bridge I was waiting at was not where most trains passed.
But all was not lost, under the cover of darkness, I walked to the yard to look around more. I observed that there was in fact a hiding spot I didn’t notice before, there was a wall I could crouch behind and someone had placed some wood to get across the swampy water.
The information I was given was that there was usually only one southbound train a day from here, so I decided to call it a night and headed back to the room. I returned the next day to the bridge. There was something there that I hadn’t noticed the previous night – a moniker tag, and beside it a message which read “USA bound – 6th time’s a charm”, with different dates alongside it. I looked at this message scrawled on the wall, and thought about what it meant.
It could surely only mean that someone had tried to hop out from here and failed five times already, right? I shuddered to think what exactly being caught trying to sneak across the US border five times would look like.
After some hours of waiting behind the wall, a southbound train approached. I ran and jumped on it, hoping it would pass straight through the yard. Unfortunately, it did not, and stopped for a while. I felt very exposed and visible, it was certainly not the best hiding place. I decided to jump off and run back to the hiding spot, perhaps the next train would be better.
Many hours later, another train went by and I hopped on. To my dismay, the exact same thing happened, the brakes hissed and the train stopped in the yard. I decided to sit and wait for a while. I peeked my head out the side and saw a worker who appeared to be inspecting every one of the train cars for some reason. It felt way too risky, so I jumped off and ran towards the bridge to hide again.
I waited again to see if another southbound train would come, but once again, after many hours, I decided to give up and call it a night.
The next day I decided to try my luck at another spot I had been advised the train might stop at. It was a spot quite far out of the city center than I had actually reconned on the first day, but decided against it because I didn’t think I could climb the fence with my bag as well as it didn’t really make sense to me why the trains would stop there in the middle of nowhere. (Although I am by no means an expert when it comes to freight riding.)
But I didn’t want to head back to the same yard for another time so I decided to give this other location a crack. To avoid having to try to navigate climbing the spiked fence, I took a long way around, walking the tracks to the spot from further away. As I was walking, up ahead I spotted a rail worker and a car. I wasn’t really in a location where I could just leave the tracks and walk back on, so I didn’t really have any option but to continue walking.
“Hey, you know you’re not allowed to be here, right?”
“Uh… Sorry, I’m just walking and taking a shortcut.” I replied.
“You can’t walk here. If someone else sees you here, you can be arrested.”
“Yeah… Sorry, I just have to get to the other side quickly.”
I sheepishly scurried past the worker, I could only hope that he wouldn’t radio it in.
I arrived at the pinpoint I was advised where the trains would stop, and found a place to attempt to hide. After a couple hours, a northbound train approached and it stopped. So the information I had received was correct, I just had to wait until the next train going south. As night approached, a train arrived and stopped, but it carried only tanker cars, so they didn’t have a spot really, to sit/hide in properly.
Dejected, I returned to my hiding spot, it would certainly not be the move to try to cross the international border while riding completely exposed.
I didn’t want to try to get a hotel and give up this time, I was determined to stay here until I could catch a train. I tried to get comfortable, preparing to hunker down for a long night. I didn’t expect there to not be any more trains until the next day.
A few hours later, a train pulled through, but it didn’t appear to be slowing down. I watched it from a distance – there was a blinking red light on the back of it, and I was watching for it to disappear around the bend. Only it didn’t. It stayed there, in the distance, a faint, blinking light.
Was it stopped? I hurriedly gathered my belongings and started charging down the tracks. The train was silent now, and there was only the sound of my footsteps running along the railroad rocks now.
I approached the end of the train and it was indeed stopped – my adrenaline was pumping now. I ran alongside and started checking the train cars, to find a suitable carriage to stowaway in.
Many of the carriages were what’s known as ‘suicide cars’, they had an open bottom with beams across, technically they were rideable but one slip and you would find yourself mangled and crushed below the train, hence the name.
I got closer and closer to the front of the train, where the driver was located. It wasn’t a good idea to get too close, and be visible in their rear view mirror. The air brakes hissed, I knew this meant that the train was leaving. By sheer luck, I spotted a rideable train car with a little nook to hide in, and jumped on as the train started to roll. It was on…
I stared at my phone on Google Maps, my hands trembling, as we approached a fork in the tracks. If it went left, it was going the wrong direction and I had to jump off when it slowed down next. If it went right, it was going straight over the US border.
I felt a wave of relief but also increased nervousness and the train veered right.
I stayed with my body contorted and wedged as far in as I could on the train. I stared at my phone screen as I crossed the dotted ‘UNITED STATES’ line, my legs going numb from being held in that position.
I had now passed the border, but I wasn’t in the clear yet. There was a radiation scanner up ahead, and I wanted to hop off before it. The train started to slow down for the scanning process, and I got ready to hop off, poking my head out to see where I was app.
Damn. There was a white car parked on the tracks. Was that border security? I stayed put a little longer, not wanting to jump off where I would be spotted by the car.
I started to see warning signs posted and the train passed some machinery and a fence. Well. I just got radiation-scanned. Screw it. I jumped off the train and started running straight for the woods. I didn’t look to see where I was, I just bolted straight towards the trees, I had no idea if there was anyone looking. I was terrified, I ran straight though the dense bush, my body getting cut up by thorns and branches. It was dark, my heartbeat was racing, and I was just focused on getting as far away from the train as possible.
After a few minutes, I stopped for a moment. I was covered in mud and sweat, and my feet were soaking wet. I assessed the situation. Was I home free? There was one thing I knew, I didn’t want to be spotted walking around in this desolate border area.
I switched to my American eSIM card and started trying to order an Uber. I didn’t know if it would work, being in such a rural area. It stayed on the ‘we are searching for a driver’ screen, and I stayed there, staring at the screen, my mind racing with the possible scenarios of what could happen if I couldn’t find a driver. I pictured myself walking around this dead end farm road and being stopped by a border patrol agent. I didn’t really want to leave my perceived safety net of the bushland.
Finally, a notification dinged on my phone, and a driver was on the way, coming from the next town. She arrived, and I collapsed in the back seat, exhausted, and covered in mud. We made small talk as she drove to the next town, I’m sure she was confused about what I was doing out there on some small farm road by the border, I just said I was a traveller.
I arrived at a hotel and checked in, only then did I really feel like I had completed the journey and was in the clear. I had a hot shower, washing away all the mud from the swampy water I had been trudging through hours earlier.
I stuffed some towels in my shoes to try and dry them a little for the next day and lay down, finally at rest.
I had done it.