trainingtofreedom

[trainingtofreedom]

Flying pre-2001 was such a different experience.

For background, I've taken anywhere from 2-4 flights a year since I was about 5. That number went way up when I worked on an international project, and for companies that maintained national installations.

I feel like two hours is a massive amount of time to arrive early for a flight, but if there's thirty minutes at bag check, and thirty minutes at security (both common occurrences), then an hour is gone before one arrives at their gate to board. Given that boarding starts thirty minutes before takeoff, 90 minutes feels like a minimum.

An hour used to feel like plenty! The check in lines were about as long: no online check in, nearly everyone checked a bag, and people didn't stagger in: there was a crush at an hour before. Sometimes people even bought their ticket then! And everyone needed a printed boarding pass, too.

Once checked in, though, security was a single file line through a metal detector. Boarding was faster, too: carry on luggage was less common, so people found their seats and sat.

No screens on the seats, and if there was an inflight movie, it was on TVs overhead. Remember airplane headphones? They used two different jacks so guests had to pay extra to listen. Then, you were listening to Channel 1 for the TV, or channels 2-12 for their custom in-air radio (really just a playlist).

More bare-bones flights lacked the TVs, and maybe the headphone option. My grandmother didn't understand why we needed those things anyway: "All you need is a book," she'd say. She didn't understand my packing three books, a Gameboy, a CD player, and a puzzle book.

I can't say I miss the old days. Security doesn't feel like a hassle, really, just "something we do." The expectation of in flight entertainment is lovely. And the ability to check in online and skip the counter entirely, up until the moment I scan and board? I love these conveniences.

I do wish, however, that airports were not two hour experiences.

[trainingtofreedom]

January 10, 2024 - Capitol Limited Sleeper

This had to be its own entry. Amtrak Sleeper service is a -delight-, and worth the time and effort.

The walkway is pretty narrow, because they have plenty of seating room. When you come in, it's practically midnight, so the attendant has already prepared the bed for you.

I wasn't the only one boarding a sleeper here: there was an elderly couple across from me. The woman was very upset by the accommodations: I think she was expecting a room, and instead got bunk beds. "This is like a concentration camp!" she remarked.

I disagreed; this was the best train ever. It was only me, so they didn't fold down the top bunk. I could sprawl out and lay sideways the entire time, Pitt to Chicago. It was as wide as a twin-bed, too, so I could lay my bag, tablet, and whatever else. I could close the window with a curtain, or leave it open and watch the nighttime go by. I had my own light and air vent. Not to mention, Wifi for my satellite radio. What an easy ride...

This was a morning picture. In the morning, they make the call for the cafe car, and the attendant reminds you that, hey, breakfast is included with your fare. Go on down to the dining car, have a seat, enjoy your meal. It's a hot meal, too, an omelette and potatoes and sausage. Sure, it's reheated, but it's way better than a muffin from the cafe car. And it was free!

While you're off at breakfast, the attendant un-makes the bed so that you have chairs for the rest of the ride. I didn't like that, so I re-made my seats into a bed and enjoyed laying on my side for the rest of the trip. My hurt back thanked me for not torturing myself again. I rolled into Chicago feeling fresh.

My grumpy across-the-hall neighbor apologized for her grumpiness. I think she took one look at me in my boots and t-shirt and thought I was a vagrant when I said, "I normally ride coach." She wasn't far off, I was homeless. I might have smelled like smoke, too. Still, we both paid for our seats, and she shouldn't be so quick to judge. I politely accepted her apology. After all, travelling is stressful most of the time.

For me, it was a welcome break: no one wants to bother you while you travel, so I could successfully hide in my locked room most of the trip. I would LOVE to ride a sleeper car again. Someday, I might. Now, though: time to roll into Chicago, my businest day yet!

[trainingtofreedom]

January 9, 2024, Pittsburgh

This was a strange stop. Pittsburgh is along the Capital Limited, about halfway. There aren't other stops in Pennsylvania, and this is the only train that runs through the station. It arrives at midnight, so the station only operates from 6pm to 2am, because it has no other daytime purpose.

The station is lit beautifully; obviously, this was a major hub for something in the past, maybe before airplanes became a big deal. I'm not sure. Now it's just unsettling, with a small collection of ghosts that come and go from the building...

I had booked my Airbnb for two nights. That way, I could check in one night, and check out the following night. 11am checkout was useless for me.

I blew into Pittsburgh bright and late, worried that arriving after midnight would make an Uber impossible. I was wrong: there was no trouble. The Pittsburgh station isn't close to anything, and its entrance is below the pretty stuff, so I waited with my too-many bags underneath the track, as usual, and got picked up in a dirty dark parking area. The Airbnb apartment was close-ish, only about 10 minutes and $10.

I didn't like that I had stairs for this one right out front, but at least, it was only four or five stairs up the front. I took my bags up one at a time...fumbled with the electronic entrance lock, and rolled each bag in one at a time. Then up the stairs to my room, one bag at a time too. Finally rolled in before 2am, and settled. I had 22 hours in town.

Welp, I was tired enough to sleep. The train wasn't a sleepy time for me. When I awoke late in the morning, rain was coming down. Not just rain - sleet. Everything was icy or slushy, all day.

I didn't let that stop me: I had to tour the area a little. Checked the buses, and there was a bus nearby, but with the grey wet weather, I didn't think Downtown would be nice either. I walked around "Germantown," which wasn't all that impressive. In the rain, with my raincoat and hat, walking carefully across icy sidewalks.

Eventually, that got a little bland too, so back to my apartment. You know, even though I walked all over, I never saw a good place to eat for lunch. No fast food. The coffee shop I found for breakfast was under-equipped. So...Guess I would walk down for Pizza.

I remember talking to my Dad about Pittsburgh pizza. He said it was like everywhere else - New York had a style, Chicago had a style, Pittsburgh had normal pizza.

I verified this in person. I also had nothing but a $100 bill to pay for it, so I wound up with $60 in ones for change. No matter, it was a good pizza, and it was something to eat for the next twelve or so hours while I waited for the train.

It was a quiet, peaceful, rainy day. I don't know that I talked to anyone except the pizza guy, when I walked down to the shop to pick up and pay.

While I was in my room, my hotel deposit was refunded. I would have used that to buy the pizza, had I known ahead of time. Instead, I had an extra $100 for a change. I should have saved it, maybe - that's the homeless-man's constant refrain: "I really should have kept that money."

I didn't. I knew I had another eight hours of sitting in pain on the Amtrak, and I thought, hey maybe I can use this extra cash to get a sleeper car. I was right, too! I paid the extra for a sleeper car on the Capitol Limited, midnight to 9am into Chicago. It was worth it!

Time ran down, I got in two nights of sleep over the 22 hours, then I caught an Uber back out of my Airbnb and back to the train station. No trouble checking my bags or anything: they make special accommodations for the sleeper passengers. I even got the chance to step out and have a smoke under the tracks, in the parking lot. No rain under the tracks!

The next train ride was the best: A two-person sleeper, all to myself, for almost ten hours total. What a delight!

[trainingtofreedom]

January 8, Washington DC

Check out was 11am, and I stayed in that hotel until the very last minute. My lunch appointment was 12, so I had plenty of time.

On my overnight walk, I'd mapped out the nearest station, Dupont Circle. I even took pictures, because the tunnel was stunning. I rode the long escalator down and up, marveling at the terraces and ceiling.

I also realized, taking my two BIG bags, my two small bags, and my backpack down the escalator seemed almost impossible. It was at least three blocks from my hotel, too, across some roads, in the middle of the day. I didn't have any faith in myself.

Thank goodness I has saved that $12 for another Uber ride back to Union Staion.

Amtrak let me check my bags nice and early, but I was definitely wandering, confused, for a little while first. I remember a Red Cap attendant shouting after me, "Do you need help, sir?" but I was already way past him. It would have helped, though: Amtrak is quite a long walk into the building.

Still...dropping off two bags was a help. I still had two bags to roll around, and I basically walked backwards out of the station and out front. There is a Metro entrance inside Union Station, but it isn't obvious, so I walked out and over to the cool Fish-Looking glass over here:

It was only maybe one stop on the Metro, so I backed myself down, got my metro ticket, rode my one stop, and back up again. NoMa/Gallaudet. I was much faster than even I expected, getting there well before noon. My friend Savanna joined me; she was on Lunch Break. She showed me where she worked, and I caught her up on the chaos that was my life.

After Lunch, I headed back, and I still had two-ish hours. I stepped back out to the above fish-glass and pulled my pipe out of my bag. I took one or two puffs, and I heard a homeless guy nearby go, "I bet that's his pipe I smell!"

I really felt for him. I did. I wasn't much less homeless, I just had a train ticket. He shared a hit of my pipe, and disappeared back to his pillar. After I finished it, I disappeared back inside. I knew I needed a smoke, but it was cold and I felt like a criminal.

That's ridiculous, by the way, Washington DC was the only place I smelled cannabis on the street. People smoked.

Back inside, still walking backwards with my two rolly bags and backpack, I was informed that my train was running behind. WELL behind. There was nothing else to do, and no place to put us, so we were directed to the large historic marble hall with wooden benches. I could not get enough of the architecture, but...it was the only thing happening in there. No TV. We just had to sit and wait.

I rolled around and explored the station. Inside, separate from Amtrak, it feels like a mall. There are about a dozen boutique shops between two stories, with a huge staircase and open atrium. I walked to one end, and to the other, because there wasn't much else to do. The shops were prohibitively expensive, too, so I wasn't going to go in with my pile 'o stuff.

Downstairs in the basement area, there was a mall-type food court. I got some Taco Bell; after all, I was stuck waiting for a VERY LATE train. I left my bags and walked up and down the food court a bit. This area was definitely older than the refinished atrium above, but it saw a lot more people and activity. The "Raising Cane's" hadn't opened up top, either, so most of the food options were here.

Before boarding, I made sure to grab a Jamba Juice, too. That was across from the Amtrak stations, though, an easy five minutes before boarding.

I can't express how long this wait felt. I was done with lunch before 1pm, and I didn't board until 5. Things were running quite late. I was flustered. Fed, but flustered. Plus, I had $100 less than I expected, thanks to that deposit. The boarding area was crowded with people, so there wasn't anything to do but walk around or wait on the wooden benches with the sign that kept telling us it was "delayed."

Even an Amtrak attendant asked me about a text message I got that said "boarding," and I clarified, no way, the sign says delayed and the tracker shows it's not here. Amtrak attendant said, "Yeah, people keep asking me about the text message. If that train is here, I'll know; I'm working on it today!"

What train was it? The Capitol Limited runs from Washington DC to Chicago, IL. I was proud to be running it end-to-end, I could say I had the full experience. Except...that was 16 hours. I planned a pit stop in the middle. I'd still get the full experience, but with a day layover in Pittsburgh.

Finally, time to board, and they just open the double doors and let us all walk through. Remember, Amtrak isn't going to check my ticket until after I get on the train. It was a full 50-100yds between our double doors and our train, and there was very little signage. "Capitol Limited" with an up-arrow about halfway. I climbed aboard the first train I saw...

It was pretty nice, but it didn't look like Amtrak. I wasn't sure, but what else could I do? I put my bag on the luggage rack and sat. The train conductor comes through, though, and says, "You're on the wrong train."

I was pretty sure he was right, so I got back up and said, "Yeah?" He said, "Unless you're leaving tomorrow, you are." I said, "I'm on the wrong train!" and climbed off. I'm not kidding, there was nothing telling me which train was the correct one. I kept walking away from those double doors, now fully out of sight, until I saw something that looked like an Amtrak.

Thankfully, this part was familiar. I was going to Pittsburgh, get on and to the right, sit in one of the double-seats that doesn't have anyone yet, and settle in. I'm still shaken from being on the wrong train and not knowing where to go, but I was in the right place.

As usual, the train sets off, very slowly, and stops due to delays at the station exit. A whole lot of trains come and go from this station. You can see all the terminals on Google Maps, too. I watched the different rails fall away until...yeah, we were the only one heading out.

This time, I was going to catch the fresh-air break. The problem is, the fresh air break was in the middle of the night in West Virginia. I told the conductor checking tickets that I wanted to get a smoke in, and he said OK. They made the call! But...I was mostly asleep.

I pulled myself up for this one, managing to miss half the smoke break, but I won't forget it: Underneath a yellow street light, a single sign telling me where we were in West Virginia. I hit my vape, and immediately was asked about it by another passenger.

"I'd never seen one of those before, you smoke that?" I explained that yeah, it's just a little cartridge, it activates as you inhale,, the cartridges are swappable. "That's amazing!" I had to use the vape ANYWAY, because I didn't have time or interest in drawing attention from smoking flower. I was off the train for thirty seconds, maybe: I got off, the conductor said "I was surprised I didn't see you, you were the first to ask!" then, "done already?" I didn't need five minutes to hit a vape pen twice.

Another four hours, and it was Pittsburgh in the middle of the night. That's where we pick up next: 24 hours in Pitt.

[trainingtofreedom]

January 7, 2024 - Washington, DC

Washington, DC gets at least two entries, because it was two days.

Day one was a sh--show.

Washington's Union Station was big, beautiful, and historic - on the outside. There was a line, though, one you can't see unless you have a ticket to a train. Over that line, on the Union Staion maps, it's just labelled, "AMTRAK."

Leaving is disconcerting, because you walk out of that big gray box and into a very large, architecturally-impressive outer shell. There's not a lot of direction about where to go next. The DC Metro is only adjacent. By the time I arrived, it was dark and most places were closed. I claimed my bags and rolled, gingerly, out to the cab pickups. Called an uber, and I was off to my hostel, called "Generator."

My Uber driver had some historic information about the city as we drove through; my building might have been the place where Reagan was shot. I wasn't really clear. What we pulled up to looked like a 100 year old building with a new light-up sign across the front. Stairs, or a long walk up the service ramp. I rolled in carefully, carrying WAY too much.

The lobby was nice, at least. Looks like a tech-startup grabbed this hotel and refreshed it into a hostel. That would be my experience throughout: the rooms felt like hotel rooms, the lounges felt like a hotel, and the front desk felt like a tiny add-on to the original, unused front desk.

When I went up to the check-in, they asked for my information then asked for $100 deposit. Keep in mind, I booked this room on Airbnb for $35, and I couldn't deposit any cash on a card in C-Ville. I told them I only had cash. I had a card, but it only had $12 for my Uber, did they want an empty card number?

No, they needed credit. I was overwhelmed, and frustrated, and flipped my card at the desk. I couldn't think straight, I could barely speak, I didn't have any idea what to do. Do I go back to the train station and sleep?

While my head was spinning, they said, "We can cancel it?" I said, no, I'll just come back later, and stumbled out into the cold air with my too-many bags.

I didn't know how to manage this, but...Google Maps said there was a CVS about a half-mile up the road. I ditched my bags in a hidden corner outside, and started hiking out to CVS. Damn, I should have worn an extra jacket or something. Also, every intersection felt a million miles from the last, and I couldn't see a CVS. All I could see was the Washington monument, in the distance. It was 9pm, would CVS be open?

See, my thoughts were WHIRLING in the moment.

CVS was uneventful. They let me make my deposit, and also some ibuprofen to help with the chronic back pain. I still had to walk with my backpack and small bag, because laptops and electronics are important. Sore but encouraged, I managed to hike back to Generator hotel a little bit calmer.

Thankfully, the front desk agent was still polite, and I checked in without issue. Up to my room, which I couldn't photograph because there were four of us in there. Two bunks built into the wall, and a hotel bathroom to one side. Two desks. Some of us lined our suitcases in the former closet; others next to our bed.

My own assigned bed was up the stairs...sadly, my hurt back didn't let me choose. I hung my cane to one side and threw my backpack up. Then Up-and-In. The railing couldn't support me, ladder-only.

In my bunk, there were outlets and a light...but I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than sleep. Passed out, 9pm-4am.

...

but 4am wasn't actually the start of the next day. I woke up, but there was nothing open. I walked downstairs, wandered the streets, saw the nearest metro station. Starbucks opened pretty early, so about an hour of walking, and I could get breakfast with cash. Fed again, I went back to my room, and spent the next five hours in my bunk. What else could I do? My train didn't leave until 3pm, so I used every minute of my time.

11am, I checked out of the Generator "Hotel." It wasn't too bad, it was just a crazy adventure. Cold. Dark.

I had a lunch appointment with a friend the next day, though. I'll also catch up about Union Station. Next chapter, Washington DC in the daytime, and a lunch appointment.

[trainingtofreedom]

January 7, 2024 - Charlottesville, VA

We rolled into Charlottesville, and I was hungry. This was half the length of Raleigh, and only a bit longer than Raleigh->Charlotte. I was happy to get out, and happy to get food.

I'd never been here, so I spent no shortage of time looking at Google Maps to figure out where we're eating. I had to plan a bit; someone was meeting me here!

(You should know, the advent of GPS and Google on our phones mean I watch Google Maps throughout my travels. I see the major cities as we pass them, I get my relative speed, and I can see the remaining duration, even without internet.)

Greensboro was along this route, back and forth. The last time I went to Greensboro was 2022, for the Junior Olympics. The rail line conveniently rolled within view of the university. I recognized a few buildings as we went by, as well as the graffiti. It was short-form nostalgia, and I found myself longing for that last little bit of peace. Traveling always felt "safe" in my old life. No time for Biscuitville, though, I was going to C-Ville.

Charlottesville is a unique stop on the ride: One rail, the Cardinal, heads out toward Chicago through West Virginia. It has better views and a shorter trip, if that was the direct route. A 16 hour ride wasn't worth the nice views, though, and I had people agreeing to meet me here and in Washington DC.

The other rail in Charlottesville is the Crescent, and it rolls through to Washington DC. That's the train I took out of Charlotte; it's interesting, because the two different sides of the train building go to two different rails.

I had to claim and re-check my bags for this one. I'd bought my Crescent ticket back in December, but I hadn't decided on Washington DC until soon before I left. See where it says "Northeast Regional Service?" That was me, too. I checked my two big bags onto the NERS train and walked out to...

See that bridge in the picture, out the window? In this case, the rail runs under the street. If I was going to get food, I was going to walk upstairs. With my injury, and my bags. The city sits up and away from the train station, which is a common trend: cities don't like being near the train. Why did trains fall out of fashion? Probably because they're noisy.

Lunch was with Daria, a local who I've been chatting with for months on Facebook. This would be our first meeting, and it would break the veil of "online only." That moment is always nervous, for me: Even though I believe I'm even better in person, I have a hard time believing I'll be liked until we meet.

We chatted nicely at the Miami Grill, where I had reserved my budget to spend freely. Was it like food in Miami? Only sort-of; I went to University of Miami, and dated a Cuban woman the whole time, and I can say with confidence that Charlottesville is not Miami. Still, the food was more familiar than not.

Daria was beautiful, and wonderful company. I didn't want to say goodbye when we were done, but I was flustered and feeling rough. I forgot a picture. All I have are memories.

Charlottesville is a college town, but it was still Winter Break there, so the town was especially dead. It was a weekend, too, so nothing was happening otherwise. CVS didn't let me put money onto my Cash App, either - that's important for Washington DC. But with nothing else going for me, I went back to waiting in the train station.

My NERS train was running late, so we sat around nervously. I remember one passenger asking if the Richmond connection was there yet, and I loudly remarked, "That's a loud one, you won't miss it." I thought he meant a train, but I was in luck. The shuttle-bus had a loose belt, and was screeching the whole time it sat in the parking lot. It WAS loud. Still, I heard one of the attendants remark, "It wasn't loud at all," when it pulled up. I haven't been able to forget my mistake.

Finally, the -reason- for the late NERS train went by. A freight train was running behind, and blew through the station thirty minutes after it should have. So an hour late, I was climbing onto my next trip. Only about three hours to DC; I hope it wouldn't be TOO late, I had a hostel room waiting for me. At least I was spending the night; I couldn't miss a connection.

This is how you board. It's out of the building and across the parking lot, and Amtrak announces which location is appropriate for coach. I crawled with my three bags out to this, and over to my coach boarding. They don't check tickets, you just climb on.

Next stop, Washington DC.

[trainingtofreedom]

January 7, 2024 - Charlotte, NC

Christine dropped me early at the Charlotte train station. She even walked me in, helped me check my big bags. Turns out I had kept the other large black bag - I can see the evidence, though I know I ditched that much equipment in Christine's house. She didn't find out for a couple days.

That means I was in for a very difficult couple days, lugging around two 50lbs bags along with my carry on, briefcase, and backpack.

Checking the large ones was no trouble. Christine lived about 45 minutes drive from the train station though, and I was supposed to show up an hour early. I wound up very early: I remember spending hours in the Charlotte train station. This wasn't great: Charlotte's train station was a small room and a small parking lot, mostly.

The train was running late (as they often do), and I was riding the Crescent, which had already been riding for a long time from New Orleans, LA. I was riding past Cary, so I couldn't catch a Piedmont this time. Nope, just me and the four dozen passengers milling about the nice wooden benches.

I see a social media post from me: "Homeless guy in a train station." Even though I had a bed at every stop, I didn't have a home. I wasn't "flying back" later.

The vending machine was my second-breakfast. A sweet roll and a soda. I learned by now that calories are what matters, and I couldn't be picky. I also knew that if I was too sugared-up, I could get sick. It was a tough balance when I was living off processed, preserved foods only.

There was a nice museum display for the Tuskegee Airmen in the station; I read that, and anything else on the walls. There was a big sign to let me know I was in Charlotte, as if there was anything else nearby. It was remote. I could go outside to smoke and wait, or I could pace around inside and wait. That's it.

Boarding in Charlotte was uneventful, but there wasn't as much room on this train as Orlando, or Raleigh. It's alright: Charlotte to Charlottesville was only about six hours.

Ooof, no, six hours was no fun. Still, I appreciated that I bought this built-in break, so I could catch a Virginia regional train instead of the Crescent again. I wasn't going straight to Chicago; I had friends to meet in Virginia and DC.

Also, I did my best to keep each leg under 8 hours, so that I wouldn't burn out like I did on the Silver Star to Raleigh. It's disconcerting to get on the train one day, and get off the next. This time, I would have smaller, easier-to-swallow bites.

Speaking of bites, the cafe car wasn't necessary if I wasn't traveling overnight. I had breakfast in Charlotte, lunch in Charlottesville, Dinner in DC. I only had to sit tight. Easy, right? Painful because of my injury, but easy.

Didn't even use the Fresh Air break for a smoke. Next stop, C-Ville.

[trainingtofreedom]

January 1st, 2024, Mooresville

It's weird to say, "It was cheaper to travel than to pay rent," but that's what it was.

I did the math, and I didn't have a goal. Noplace locally would take me without charging me hotel rates or doing a credit check or a guarantee of income. I also had no reason to stay in town, so I left.

I also had no way to store my stuff, if I was in an AirBnb or a hotel. I chose instead to go see friends who had offered to have me visit. I had two people who agreed: Christine, and Chris's parents Jessie and Mike. I was going to use up that social capital for rent.

Besides, I really DID want to go visit Christine. She had been my closest confidant for several months. It was about 10 days, where I was still terrified to leave home...but I wasn't home. Thankfully, Mooresville was remote enough that I only ever saw Christine and her partner, Jeremy.

I was sleeping awkward hours; I'd be up at 3am some days, 7am other days, 10am other days. I stuck to the twice-a-day walks, when I could, and I made sure to be home and awake for dinner. Christine said she wanted to cook for me, and she cooked very well. That's the other social capital I was using: free meals from a kitchen.

Most of my time was spent on their back decking; it was screened in, and it had a view of a pond, and a creek below. Winter blew into Mooresville while I was there, and I watched that pond ice over, thaw, and ice up again. I never got close enough to touch the ice, but it was an alluring view.

This was during one of the thaw days, which was my *favorite* time to go hiking back through the nearby wooded area. The area along the creek was never developed; it was instead blanketed in thorny bushes that could draw blood. I would climb along the trodden and bare, thin paths between the thickets, and cross over the creek, sometimes getting a little wet in the process.

The creek crossing only led to more neighborhoods and houses; there were no other landmarks, so I'd just hike into nothing, and hike back, pipe in hand. It was nice to smoke freely, and I smoked most heavily while here. It made all this brown seem magical, and the rushing creek seem mystical.

It was just me, the back deck, the woods, and Christine's lovely cooking. I spent most of my time just listening to the radio, fussing with my TV antenna, or sleeping. Or sitting on the back deck wishing I was home...

But I didn't have a home. I was here, and only here. I bought my next train tickets, too: By day one, I had bought a ticket to Charlottesville, VA, because I knew my final stop was St. Louis, and no matter which route I took, I knew I had to pass through C-Ville and Chicago. So I bought a ticket to C-Ville, then based on a few friend's messages, tickets to Washington, DC, Pittsburgh, Chicago, and finally St. Louis.

I hadn't planned that part of my trip before Mooresville; I was literally living a week at a time. Just me and two suitcases.

When time came for me to leave Mooresville, I packed my things and realized...I could save myself effort if I abandoned one bag. I said goodbye to my big black suitcase, my TV Antenna, my radio, my standing mat, and a bit more. I went from "Four suitcases and a carry on" to "Four bags, total." It made it easier to walk around, and I was very thankful.

I feel bad; I really did leave Christine with a suitcase worth of my junk, even though I still took the large bag. I hope Jeremy didn't get mad and take it out on her. They were welcome to trash it all. I just knew, after Charlotte, I needed things to be lighter.

I discovered, homelessness means you shed stuff constantly. Every new destination drops behind more possessions, because you only travel with what you can carry.

Next step: Charlotte train station, Charlottesville, and Washington DC. In one day.

[trainingtofreedom]

December 28, Raleigh

This starts as my train pulls in around 10am. I had about five hours sitting in the Raleigh train station. This is by design...

I must make it clear: I don't hold it against anyone that they couldn't meet me on my trip across the country. I was in town for one day or less, every day, and I didn't tell many people. I was running for my life, and anyone I saw caught a glimpse of me at my worst. No shame if you missed me.

I had made separate plans to meet two different people in Raleigh. Both of them were valuable to me; I'd been hiding in my house for almost nine months, and they were two of the very few friends I had on Facebook. My therapist reminded me: It's hard to meet someone, within a day, with less than a week's notice. Neither of my Raleigh contacts could make it.

I missed them, and I missed everyone in that moment. This was day one of homelessness; I couldn't go back to Florida, and there was no one ready in Charlotte yet either. I rolled into Raleigh alone.

I texted a friend who went to college out here; seeing the UNC banners, I thought he might have an idea of something to do or someone to meet. No such luck. Raleigh was 100% by myself.

This train platform and station were unique. Sometime in the past year, they had rebuilt this train station into a big glass-and-neon spectacle. The train actually doesn't go near the building, but instead passes across the street. Disembarking from my Silver Star, I walked my two bags down to...the luggage cart, and stood next to it.

"Don't take your bags yet!" the baggage attendant barked. I acknowledged. "I'm watching you!" I replied, "I don't even have hands to carry it." (shrug). We chuckled. The truth is, I wasn't taking my bags at all. I just thought it was better use to stand next to them.

A golf cart pulled up next to me. Let me point out that I was standing alone with a cane, so I looked like I could use the help. "I'll take you over." I had no idea what "over" meant, because I'd never been here before. Still, I obediently got on the cart, and we rolled away from my bags.

The Raleigh station has a tunnel, wide enough for a golf cart or narrow luggage cart and not much more. It goes under the road, and over to the ground entrance. If you were walking, you'd walk through this tunnel then up another ramp to get into the beautiful, well-equipped building.

The building had neon, and glass, and many wood finishes and padded seats. Vending machines, counters with charger outlets, and even a cart vendor. Still - it was an island. To leave the station, you needed to take an elevator or a ramp. To go outside for a smoke, you had to walk a 100ft ramp across the front to an overlook, far from every door, to meet the clean air laws. It was a beautiful building with no connection to the city or the rail line.

I was thankful I didn't have to keep my checked bags; they kept themselves while I waited with my too-many bags in the nicely equipped room. It wasn't equipped enough, though, and I started Google Maps up on my phone to find my way to lunch. It wasn't 11am yet, would there be anything?

No, but it would take me 15+ minutes to walk there. I found a food court down the street. I took an elevator to the first floor, then a dusty, dirty walk underneath the rail and across a loading dock before I got to any city buildings. Once I was in the city, though, everything was level, so rolling my personal bag wasn't TOO bad.

I wound up leaving my bags at the table while I ordered my food-court burger though. More neon, more fashionable signs, and I was definitely the first person they saw this morning. I was happy to get my burger, though it hurt every single time I had to break a bill. Remember, I had to cross the country with less than $500.

Hung out for an hour in that food court with my burger; it was cold, almost freezing, I was glad to be indoors. I wasn't looking forward to the windy walk back under the rail and across the loading dock.

For illustrative purposes: the white building to the leftmost is the station. The rail I came in on is at the bottom of the picture. The burger place is off the picture to the right. I walked from the white building, under that other rail line, across the street. It's OK - the only cars that showed up were heading to the train station, and no one rides the train lol.

After my burger, I rolled my bag and backpack up the long ramp to the overlook to have a smoke. Finally. After maybe 16 hours of being smoke free, I needed something fresh. The rooftop has a few signs illustrating the green rooftop garden. You can see it in the picture, the green strip over the tunnel. It's December in Raleigh, though: nothing was growing. It was brown and grey and empty. I enjoyed the fresh air, but there wasn't any bright sunny scenery.

Let's add that I was still very paranoid, too: I expected, at any moment, that someone would show up and arrest me for smoking, even though this overlook was CLEARLY designed to be far from the entrances. I just shivered with my too-heavy bags and finished my smoke.

After 100ft of walking down a ramp, I was back in the isolated building. I was very happy for the high-top tables where I could set up this laptop, charge what I needed, and wait. But...man, my back hurt. I wanted to lie down.

Good news, I could lie down on the softer seating they had inside, but I didn't want to seem like I was some lurker or homeless guy. (I was a homeless guy, but I had a train ticket.) I set up out-of-view of the clerk and security, in a scarce corner, and left my bags so I could wander and/or stretch out my back. It was a long four-ish hours of waiting for my train: an NCDOT special, the Piedmont, which was a direct line, endpoints in Raleigh to Charlotte.

This train was a point of pride for the state, it seems. The train cars were named after North Carolina icons; I believe mine was the Gray Squirrel. It had the white star and blue coloring to match the NC Flag. I watched it sit in the station for hours, waiting for its next batch of passengers. Other trains went by, but this one specifically sat in the station waiting for us. I took a picture, had to verify that this really was the right train.

Five trains run this same route every day; how did this one sit in the station for two hours?

Regardless, this was well-equipped, with wide seats. I was ready when they opened the big double-doors to let us go up the ramp and load in. Not very many people boarded, and there were even fabric headrest covers. A very nice ride...but no checked bags. My own checked baggage must have rolled ahead of me on a different train!

I put my own bag on the overhead rack, and settled in. No one sat next to me the whole time. It was about a three-hour ride, and I watched it get dark as I came in.

Charlotte itself was a bear...lots of people coming in and going out. My bags were waiting on the luggage cart, just like I saw them before, but this time sitting alone. The luggage attendant even commented, "I thought they were left behind! After this train, they would have been." Apparently, they weren't supposed to check the bags to Charlotte, because I had two separate tickets and should have checked them twice. All's well that ends well, though; I took my two lonely bags off the cart and rolled on out.

Into the dark, to meet my dear friend Christine. She and her partner were there just in time to meet me. Not much waiting, not much walking with my bags, just in and out of Charlotte station. I'd get more familiar with it in another week. For now, I just got to enjoy a week's break from traveling.

[trainingtofreedom]

December 28, 2023, Amtrak Silver Star

While it was dark out, I kept trying to sleep through the "toot toot". About eight hours of my trip was in darkness. The seats aren't too bad, but my back injury wasn't kind. Still, even when my back hurts, what can I do? I took a THC edible and tried to sleep through it. I skipped all the "smoke breaks" for this one.

Amtrak smoke breaks are a big deal. Raleigh station itself is a smoke break; they schedule them every four hours at the better-equipped stops. The conductor lets everyone know, and they all stand outside for about ten minutes. The train crew takes a fresh air break, and the small group of passengers don't stray far from the train so that they don't get left behind. There's no "double-check" for anyone who gets off and on again.

Even though I'd rolled a few smokes in my cane, I decided it was too much trouble to concentrate on which stop was a smoke and which wasn't. I stayed on-board for all twelve hours of my Raleigh trip.

I woke up sitting up, because there's no lying down on an Amtrak coach trip. My back was killing me. I remember the guy across the aisle was a colorful, talkative dude who spent 50% of his trip laying across two seats. He was harassed frequently by the conductor not to put his feet on the seat. He got off in Cary without me.

The dude that filled in next to me around Jacksonville was very quiet, and I felt bad every time I had to climb over for the bathroom or the cafe car. I learned, though, it's unavoidable, we just accept each other as seatmates for hours and hours. We didn't talk.

Many, many people got off in Cary. It was a much emptier train to Raleigh; I even got the seat next to me alone for that trip from Cary to Raleigh. Back up, though: I'm still not that far when the sun comes up.

Once the sun was high enough, the announcement was made that the cafe car was open. I'd never traveled across cars, never ate on a train. This was intimidating for me. Still, I was hungry, and I knew I couldn't starve myself across the country. I clambered over my seatmate and stumbled down the train aisle.

I can't express strongly enough how nervous I was. I looked up how the train was constructed, to figure out which way to go. Once I was standing up, the train wasn't a smooth ride, so I would lose balance frequently. Thank goodness for those high-backed coach seats.

Crossing cars was scary, too. Walk to the door, and press the big pressure-plate handle, and the door automatically slid open to a loud, windy, wobbly chamber between cars. I couldn't close the door behind me, which was unsettling because it is LOUD in there. I had to walk across the car-joint, which is 100% safe, but it looks terrifying. Then hit another door plate by hand, it slides open. Now I have two doors open between the cars that I can't close. I stepped through, looked back. FINALLY, the first door is sliding closed. I waited for door #2 to close, and...I was still a few doors away from the cafe car.

Repeat a few more times. I got to see the whole coach section this way. The trains split the sleeper cars from the coach cars by putting the cafe car in-between. One side of the cafe counter faces coach, the other side faces sleepers. There's eight or so tables, too.

I stumble, unbalanced, into the cafe car. All of the tables are taken, and I see the area to fix coffee, but it's not at all clear where to get food. The cafe counter bumps out a bit, so it's not visible from the door. I walk in anyway, and then...ah! A menu! I stop and look for a while, until someone startles me with, "The menu is over here, too, come around."

I didn't see the dude behind the cafe counter. I didn't even know it WAS the cafe counter. He had only about six linear feet of space to do his cafe work, and barely wide enough to fit a human sideways. I had to slide past the customers to get to the register, too; I gazed longingly at the sleeper side, then focused on the least-obtrusive order I could make. There was hot food, but I was feeling pretty poor and like a sore-thumb in the moment. Just a muffin and a coffee.

There were still no open tables, so I guess I would stumble back through the train cars again to enjoy my breakfast. Remember how I kept losing my balance? I definitely had my hand covered in coffee by the time I got to my seat. I prayed the whole time, please don't spill on anyone. I hope I didn't. I know my coffee was empty enough not to spill on my seatmate, anyway.

More than one person asked me where I got the goods. Before boarding, no one explains how the cafe car works, or where it is, so I got there by a guess. There must have been a half dozen others on my travels who were too afraid to make that guess themselves. I was happy to overexplain the process: Walk through two cars, don't worry, you'll know when you get there. Just keep walking that direction.

The muffin was a welcome relief to my growling stomach. The coffee was a warm comfort from the cold train car. Goodness, I was dehydrated too. I was pleased with myself; something worked out, I finally got food and drink.

Cary was uneventful; many people got off, a few people got on. I enjoyed a mostly empty car. I was sore, though, and the train was already an hour or two behind. I was supposed to be in Raleigh at 9am, and I wasn't even close. Just watch the window and hope you don't miss it.

The conductors are good about that, though. They wake everyone up before their stop. They track every person's destination. So they knew I would stay seated in Cary, and they made sure I was clear in Raleigh before anyone else got on.

Raleigh's a smoke break, a bunch of us got off. I was only one of a few, though, who would actually leave the platform for my next adventure.

[trainingtofreedom]

December 27, 2023 - Orlando, FL

I can't describe the feeling of leaving home for good. I'd left for college; I'd moved houses; I'd taken vacations; I've traveled with nothing but my car, twice. None of it compared to December 27.

I had two big suitcases, one small suitcase, one backpack, one briefcase. Amtrak said, "Four bags and one carry-on" and I took it seriously. I called an Uber to take me to the Bus Terminal, because the rail system runs through it. Waiting for the Uber was almost painful; I could look back and see where I was living, but I wouldn't ever see that house again.

That was the echo in my head: I'll never see that house again. I won't be going back.

It was almost dark when we got to the bus station, and I rolled myself through the building, out the back, across four lanes of bus traffic, around to the train station. Across two set of tracks, so that I was on the Northbound side.

I could barely carry it all; I recognized that mistake in the bus station, but it was too late to leave anything behind. I didn't know what wasn't important, either; in my mind, every item in every bag was important. So I carried 100+lbs of everything, and I watched the commuter rail go by, thankful that I'd be checking my bags when Amtrak arrived.

I went to the bus teller when I arrived, and asked them about the train. "Train tickets are only purchased at the kiosk. There's a attendant at the track to help you." She had nothing else to tell me. "There's supposed to be an attendant, anyway." She clarified. After I rolled myself to the tracks, I didn't see any attendant. Plus I didn't know what to ask him.

Just a weird guy floating around at the handicap ramp. He didn't look like a train attendant.

The commuter rail rolled by, and that weird guy calls over to me, "Hey, are you taking the train?" I answered him, "Yeah, the big silver one, the Amtrak." He replied, "The Amtrak doesn't come here. It goes to Orlando Health. Also, you can't sit there."

There's a dawning of fear in my mind, now: I'm at the wrong station. I can't walk anywhere, I have too much stuff. How the hell am I going to catch my train in 20 minutes? I was supposed to be heading to Raleigh on the Silver Service. The attendant couldn't help, how would I get there?!?

I caught my breath, but the panic still bounced around in my brain. Call an uber. I called an uber, and tried to drop a pin at my spot on the sidewalk; I couldn't find a good landmark. The first uber says, "I can't drive into the bus station." No, not the bus station, I'm along a downtown city street next to the train tracks. I have twenty minutes to get across town.

That uber cancels. I have 15 minutes.

The next one gets there, and thankfully is clean, comfortable, and prepared. I sent my destination as "Amtrak Station," so now there's no question. I'm watching the tracks the whole drive, praying the train wouldn't beat me to the station. What would I do if I missed it? Sleep in the empty house, I guess.

The Amtrak station is obvious, thank goodness. Big sign on the building, lots of cars and people, nothing related to the commuter rail. (Commuter rail drops off on the same track, about 50m south; I could see it from here.) It didn't matter which side of the tracks anymore: everybody waits on this side.

Checking my bags at the station, I had to walk them back to the cargo area. No one was at the teller. It was an unguided experience, I just got lucky that I met one of the Red Caps at the back. "Where are you heading?"

"Raleigh...well, Charlotte." I answered. They seemed confused, so they asked for my ticket. I showed them I had two tickets: Raleigh, then Charlotte five hours later. "Why is he going to Raleigh instead of Cary?" he wondered aloud. His partner replied, "Must have been a capacity thing."

I remember a few other things he said. "Why isn't there anyone up at the teller? You're not supposed to be staring at your phone!" "Keep the claim tickets." "You don't need them in Raleigh, just Charlotte." He checked my bags to Charlotte, though they would change trains in Cary, NC, even though I went to Raleigh first instead.

(Train stuff: Amtrak's Silver Star usually drops off people in NC at Cary, because it's one stop sooner and has more exchanges, like the Crescent. Raleigh is, uniquely, in between the two Silver-Service routes, and only on the Silver Star route. The only people that ride it to Raleigh are people -specifically- going to Raleigh.)

I still have my backpack and briefcase with me, and I've NEVER left from this station before. There's probably a hundred people here, almost all coach, almost all as confused as I was. Many college kids, many people going many different places. Only a few outdoor benches, and we were all told to line up at the lettered column. I leaned on the bench to help my injured back, and waited amongst the confused throngs.

Boarding was straightforward: they asked where you're going, and they told you which way to go once you got up the stairs. No one checks tickets, even though it's on my phone and ready. Just "Go in to the right, find a seat." I was on the long-distance car, the one that goes past Cary, NC. People were going to NYC, PHL, and all sorts of far-flung stops. No assigned seats, so you just do your best. I found two seats alone (a rare treat), and slumped down.

The train is ROLLING, and they still haven't checked my ticket. This is weird if you're used to planes, where you've been identity-verified and boarding-passed three times before you reach the door. On Amtrak, they don't do any more than count bodies. You're halfway to the next stop before anyone verifies your ticket, and no one ever checks your ID.

Reiterating: You will board the train, and no one checks your ticket or ID. They will never check your ID.

Finally, a conductor comes through and checks the ticket. He writes my three-letter destination on a card, and sticks it on the rail above my seat. Reminds me that my adjacent seat won't remain empty: "This is a FULL TRAIN, there will be no empty seats!"

It's 9pm, I'm exhausted, the train is rolling. I fall asleep to "No empty Seats!" and the sound of the Amtrak train horn, which blows at every single road crossing. All night, toot toooooooooooooot.

Twelve hours to go, then I'll be in Raleigh. Nothing to do but sit and sleep on the dark windows...

[trainingtofreedom]

December 25, 2023

This story begins on Christmas Day.

Before now, I had been afraid to leave the house. Every day, I would force myself on a walk around the block to push my boundaries. The month of October barely had any of that.

In two days, that was going to change: I had to leave the house and never look back. I knew already, and I kept wondering: What does life look like when you are scared to be outside your comfort zone, but you don't have a comfort zone anymore?

I moved everything into the garage between Christmas and departure day. For a year and a half, I lived peacefully with a friend, and I had a room, a bathroom, a closet, a studio, a garage. I had furniture: several tables, TVs with stands, two beds, bookcases. No dressers: I hang up 100% of my clothes, or I keep them in bins.

The money, and the lease, ran out at the end of December, so I would have to get it all out. I didn't have movers, or a moving van. I had $500 cash and a train ticket. Anything I couldn't fit in my suitcases was going into the garage.

I am so sorry to my roommate; that garage had a whole house worth of furniture in it. Hers, her ex-husbands, and my stuff in great stacks. She helped me sell the TVs on Christmas Day, and the cash fed me on my cross-country trip, so I'm thankful. She also still has a sizable collection of my stuff for when I find a house of my own again.

I said goodbye to everything that day as I moved it out. Goodbye guest bed, goodbye tables. Goodbye bass guitar. Goodbye to all of my extra clothes. My mixer, microphone, bass guitar, cables. It's impossible to imagine how much I parted with.

When you have a house all your life, there's a LOT of stuff you take for granted. Plates, Silverware, Sheets, Towels, refrigerator magnets, a toolbox, extension cords. All of this stuff gets thrown in a box and then back out at the new house. That wasn't me. I said goodbye to anything I owned; if it didn't fit in a suitcase, I figured I'd never see it again.

Christmas Day was the day I lost every gift I ever had, and kept only what I could carry. It started my transient, empty life. Two days later, I closed the garage door and never saw home again.