Editor's note: Today's Masters Series essay features an unusual interview with Palm Beach Letter publisher (and former editor of S&A's 12% Letter) Tom Dyson...
Before he began his career in the financial publishing industry... Tom crisscrossed North America by hopping trains... a self-described "hobo." In September 2011, Tom recounted some of his adventures in the below interview, which was published in The Palm Beach Letter's free e-letter. As you can imagine... Tom's life on the road garnered him experiences and stories few people can claim.
Please note... the activities Tom describes in this interview are illegal and dangerous. You should not try this yourself. You could face arrest... to say nothing of serious injury. Still, Tom says these adventures are the closest he's ever come to true freedom. We hope you enjoy them (vicariously)...
Dangerous and Illegal, But I Do It Anyway
By Tom Dyson and Christian Hill
Palm Beach Letter (PBL): So Tom, we've received a number of e-mails from readers asking about your train-hopping stories. Did you really hop trains?
Tom Dyson: Wow, I can't believe people still remember those essays. Yes, I did. And I still do. I recently rode the railroad that comes right past our office. It's called the Florida East Coast Railroad. It runs between Jacksonville and Miami.
PBL: How long did that take?
Dyson: We left Jacksonville at 10 o'clock and got to Miami at six o'clock the next morning. Then we got a cab to the airport, bought a ticket on American Airlines, and we were back in Jacksonville by 10 a.m. My wife Kate was there to drive us home.
The track runs right down the east coast of Florida, parallel to I-95. I once read that it was one of the most scenic routes in the country. Whoever wrote that must've liked watching the backside of suburbia. We watched an endless parade of Targets, Wal-Marts, and gas stations. Only we got the rear view.
PBL: What does Kate think of all this?
Dyson: She tolerates it, I think. I did actually take her on a train once. It was a short line, in northern Florida, called the First Coast Railroad. The track runs 15 miles from Saint Mary's, Georgia to Fernandina Beach, Florida. Kate was eight months pregnant at the time. She said she liked it, but she's never asked to go again. We had another couple with us that night, too. The woman was also eight months pregnant. So I took two pregnant women in a boxcar.
PBL: How did you get started doing this?
Dyson: I always loved the wide-open spaces of the American West. It's just such incredible scenery that really... speaks to me? I don't know. But I realized that trains would allow me to see that scenery in a way that you can't from the road. The trains go to all the same places that the roads go, but when you go by road, you've got gas stations, you've got towns, you've got billboards. Interstates are awful, obviously – you don't see anything from the interstate. From the train, you get to see all the same mountains, rivers, forests, and lakes, but it's completely unspoiled.
So back in 2003, I was living in London. I was working for Citigroup. I was doing the cubicle thing, the corporate thing. And I just felt so enclosed, I wanted to get out and break away. I couldn't stop thinking about American landscapes and jumping in a boxcar and riding across the wide-open spaces. It was a romantic calling, I guess you could say.
PBL: And so... you just did it?
Dyson: I just did it.
I actually went to Canada first. I figured Canadians are less insane than Americans, and so I'd be less likely to get into trouble. And the other advantage that Canada has is that there's only one track running from east to west. In America, trains go all over the place. In Canada, I figured it'd be harder to get lost.
PBL: So did you go all the way east to west in Canada?
Dyson: Yes. I had a few false starts, but I eventually got on a container train in Toronto – called a "hotshot" in hobo terminology, because container trains have priority over all other trains – and rode it for four days across the Canadian prairie.
I eventually ran out of water somewhere in Manitoba. When the train stopped, I staggered off in a town called Melville, where the Mounties picked me up.
PBL: Did you get in trouble?
Dyson: No, actually they were very nice. They took me to the police station and gave me all the cold water I could drink. Then they took me to the only hotel around and showed me where I could get the best steak in town.
PBL: OK, so, you're riding in these cars that just have, sort of, doors on the side? I mean, what are your riding accommodations?
Dyson: There are different kinds. There are probably a dozen different kinds of wagon that the railroads use. "Rolling stock," they call it. Some of these, you can't ride on at all – like, for example, a tanker car, which would carry chemicals or oil. Or an autorack, which they use for moving new cars. They're locked up tight.
Empty boxcars are the classic rides. They have two doors on the sides and plenty of room to relax. The railroads have phased out the boxcar over the past 30 years, though, because the container box has replaced them. It's inefficient to load a boxcar with a forklift when you can just drop a preloaded box onto a set of wheels.
You can also ride on loaded coal gondolas, on grainers, and on lumber cars.
PBL: Where do you sleep?
Dyson: They all have safe places where you can stretch out, out of sight and out of the wind. It's noisy, but really pretty comfortable.
PBL: So how often would you meet other people?
Dyson: Not very much. There really aren't a whole lot of people who do this anymore. The 1930s was the heyday of the hobo, but I think it really died after 9/11, because everyone became much more suspicious of trespassers after that.
PBL: How safe is it? Were you ever afraid for your safety or your well-being?
Dyson: Well, there was only one time when I felt afraid for my physical safety. That was in Mexico. I took a freight train through the Copper Canyon to Chihuahua.
Trains in Mexico are covered in illegal immigrants, hundreds of people on every train. And the only wagon I could find that was free was right behind the locomotives. And it didn't occur to me why no one wanted to sit there.
Well, the train winds its way along this canyon and across a mountain range. There were eighty-eight tunnels along the route. Each time we went into a tunnel, I got blasted with the exhaust from the three locomotives and sparks were raining down on me. I couldn't breathe, and it was burning me. It felt like my back was blistering. It was like someone taking a hair dryer to your back while holding your face over a truck's exhaust pipe. All night long. Through 88 tunnels.
PBL: So you got on the train before it started moving…?
Dyson: Absolutely. I never get on moving trains. It's too risky.
PBL: And then would you ever move around while the train was in motion?
Dyson: No, not really. I sit tight. When I was riding in Mexico, the El Salvadorians and the Hondurans would be up on the roof of the train dancing and drinking at 50 miles an hour. I got on the roof, too, but I was on my belly, clinging on for dear life.
PBL: So you have said in the past how train travel is a reflection of the economy. Talk to me a little bit about that.
Dyson: Well, trains move commodities around the country. Generally, the bulkiest commodities – coal, fertilizer, chemicals, oil, wheat, corn, scrap iron. So by watching the trains, you can get an idea about what's going on in the economy.
For example, I was in a freight yard in Jacksonville in 2006, and I struck up a conversation with the yardmaster. I asked him, "How's business?"
And he was like, "We're so busy, we're turning business away."
And then, a couple years later, the opposite was true. I saw freight yards with hundreds of brand-new locomotives lined up on sidetracks because there weren't enough trains for them to pull.
PBL: So what was your favorite trip?
Dyson: I have a few. I rode across the Canadian Rockies. That was incredible. The Canadian Pacific route between Calgary and Vancouver was one of the great engineering marvels of the 19th century. There's a corkscrew tunnel, incredible trestle bridges, and a pass at 5,000 feet. The scenery was just gorgeous. I watched jagged, snow-covered mountains for four days... beautiful lakes... pristine forests. And you're in the middle of nowhere.
But I think my favorite trip was from Las Vegas to Chicago on Union Pacific track. It was Christmas 2004, and it had been freezing, even in Las Vegas. My plan was to go east on the back of a container box. Thank God I didn't. Instead, I climbed into one of the locomotives pulling the train. Most trains have three or four locomotives pulling it. The engineer and the brakeman sit in the front one. The other ones are empty. And they aren't locked. So I slipped into one. I had a comfortable seat, a heater, a fridge full of water, a radio to listen to, and a bathroom. It was like a hobo limousine.
I rode all the way to Chicago in that cab. It took four days. Every morning, there was about three inches of ice on the windows. So had I been out on the back in a container box, I mean, there's just no way I would have made it. The only problem is that I didn't have any food, so I didn't eat for four days. But it wasn't a big deal.
One night, the engineer came back to inspect the equipment. He was shining his flashlight on the gauges, and there I was on the floor in my sleeping bag. And he looked at me and he said, "Howdy."
And I said, "Howdy."
And he said, "Everything OK?"
And I said, "Yeah, everything's fine."
"Well," he said, "we are going to be in Evanston in a couple of hours. They are going to be doing a full inspection. I suggest you get in the bathroom and lock the door. Let me know if you need anything."
PBL: That's reassuring. There are still some nice people out there.
Dyson: Yeah, for sure.
PBL: So last question: how do you know where the train is going? Is there a timetable or something?
Dyson: People always ask me that. And the answer is, you don't know. But that's the point. Most traveling these days is about getting somewhere. You know, you jump on a plane, you get to the beach, you have fun, you get back on the plane, and you come home. The plane is miserable, but you put up with it because you need to be somewhere.
On the freights, you don't care where you're going. You don't care when you get there. You just enjoy being on the journey, having the adventure, taking in the scenery, and meeting people. It's an important reminder about how we should live our lives.
PBL: So any upcoming journeys planned?
Dyson: Why, do you want to experience it? I can take you if you want.
PBL: No, thanks. I'll stick to the beach for now.
P.S. Once again, please don't try this yourself. Tom spent years learning the ropes from books and other expert sources. It's illegal and extremely dangerous. If you want to see unspoiled landscapes from the train, buy an Amtrak ticket.
Editor's note: Now that Tom's "legit"... he heads The Palm Beach Letter, along with business partner Mark Ford. Together, they've created an advisory publishing business committed not only to helping people build wealth... but build a rich, fulfilling life.
Their latest research has uncovered an investment that has made thousands of ordinary investors profoundly rich over the last 60 years. And as they explain, it's the result of a situation that occurs only once every 20-40 years. To learn more about this opportunity, click here.