The Winding Northward Road

by Rambling Writer


Day 69

Through the mountains.  Yes, already!  How?  By becoming a hobo.

That train track I mentioned yesterday?  Was following it in the morning when I heard a train coming around a curve.  Going slow when I saw it, so as it passed me, I took a chance, ran, and jumped onto a flatcar.  Got on easy, so I just stayed on and kept riding.

Riding a freight train’s a lot different than riding a passenger one.  You can feel the rails a bit more, and there’s a lot of wind.  Depending on where you are, you can get a lot of dust and bugs and stuff in your face.  But the view’s a lot more unobstructed; there was one moment where I was on top of a boxcar while we were going over a bridge, and… wow, like that valley near Mt. Whinny, it’s one of the things I’ll remember forever.  The whole thing’s really serene after a while; I spent an hour lying on my back, staring up at the sky, listening to the rumble of the cars, taking in all the little bumps of the track.  One of the most peaceful moments of this whole trip.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and a little before we got out of the Macintosh Hills, on the Lareindo side (I could almost see my house from there!), a conductor started going up and down the train.  I can’t really begrudge her that, she’s just doing her job, but I had to duck around to try and stay out of her sight.  Didn’t do half bad for a while, but eventually she found me and chucked me off.  It hurt a lot less than I thought it would; she was a unicorn, so I’m thinking she used some magic to cushion the fall a little.

Wound up some ways outside the mountains.  Can make out Lareindo in the distance; should make it in two or three days (probably two).

You should try jumping onto a train;
It’s not that
It isn’t that much of a pain.
Go as fast as it does,
And keep on your toes,
And you’ll land just as right as rain.

Yes, I know “does” and “toes” don’t really rhyme.  Shut up, I’m not feeling that rhymey tonight.

Just don’t get seen by the guard;
That, at least, is quite hard.
She combs it all over,
The caboose to the boiler,
And doesn’t stop; she’s a real diehard.

Is rhyming “hard” and “diehard” cheating?  Maybe.