Contributors »

Essays »

Railed: Appreciating America's Forgotten Workhorse by Matt B. Simon , San Francisco, CA
We inevitably lose interest in certain things as we age, binkies, cartoons, flashing lights. These are understandable examples, but when it comes to trains and railroads and their ilk, the awe that we held as children inexplicably disappears. We grow up, buy cars, spend months of our lives in traffic, and only remember trains when we're stuck at a junction while a mile-long freight train rolls in front of us.

This country was built on a foundation of railroads, then raped by the postwar introduction of the freeway system and the consequent emergence of suburbia. We've become a nation of convenience and stagnation, and we're beginning to pay the economic and ecological price.

Unlike the automobile, the train has lifted Americans by their bootstraps in tough times. The hobo lifestyle of vagrancy, jumping from city to city and living independent of the traditional grid, began to take form after the Civil War, when soldiers hopped trains as a free ride home. The Great Depression, unsurprisingly, saw an influx of hobos who used the railroad system to move about the country in search of work. But even with good times, the lifestyle has never fully died.

Some people can ride the rails their whole lives, while others are simply bored or intimidated by them. There are few things more aggressive than a massive freight train, perhaps bears, because they can chase you, but few things on this planet are as powerful as a train. They don't exactly stop on a dime, and for some reason people are surprised that train engineers can't just lay on the brakes and stop if a vehicle is on the tracks. A load of a couple million pounds is a fickle mistress.

And hearing one of those beasts start up is almost more than the human brain can process, and it should be experienced by anyone with the chance. The locomotive, with dozens and dozens of cars behind it, can't exactly leap off the line, as it were. The acceleration is a chain reaction, and as the tension ripples down the train, the noise is savage. Imagine two robots punching each other in the face over and over, then punching you in the eardrums. It is the philosophical ideal of the sublime, something so awe-inspiring that no human could refute its beauty.

If you have a local railyard, I'd recommend paying it a visit. You can watch from afar (what the British call trainspotting, though as a hobby they tend to note the numbers of the cars), or get in nice and close and move among the trains. This will be easier in a small railyard with less metal rolling about you, obviously, and of course the greatest precautions should be taken. You will never win a battle with a freight train. Always look both ways (as with streets) before stepping over a track, and never crawl under a stationary car. Things with wheels tend to roll when you least expect them to.

Conquer the intimidation and see that all around you there is industry and ton upon ton of steel. But on top of this steel you'll see graffiti and hobo monikers, left perhaps a decade ago and thousands of miles away. It's a rolling canvas and a nationwide art show, subversive creativity left on the infrastructure that made this country rich and powerful.

The idea is appreciation for an under-appreciated American craft, the mastery of the rails. This is the turf of John Henry and Bozo Texino, of legends and failures, and of barons and tramps. And though seemingly orderly and static, restricted to forward and backward and nowhere else, it's a great American circus just itching to be watched.

Matt B. Simon is a freelance writer and photographer based in San Francisco. He writes for VodoModo, MetroWize, Angry Web, and other culture and travel publications. He also edits a photo blog that focuses on street art and graffiti in San Francisco. In September and October of 2008, after quitting his desk job, Matt spent 53 days traveling America on Amtrak and rediscovered his love of trains and vagrancy. He recommends the trip to anyone with the will and means to do so. Matt B. Simon's work can be viewed on http://mattbsimon.com. He can be reached at mattbsimon@gmail.com .

Featuring America
Contact editors at featuringamerica@gmail.com.