“I put on Joy Division and gazed into the sky… Cruising along at a good 45–50 mph and then it happened—Waaaccckk! My legs hit a bridge with no clearance… My feet were mangled and squirting blood! I went into shock and crawled to my pack in disbelief, and used a shirt to tie tourniquets to stop the blood. I laid there crying on my phone as it’s about to die….”
Part I: Rails & Recovery
As far back as the late 1980’s I can remember when an interest in the North American Railroad system took over like heroin to a dope fiend at a squat in New York City.
I grew up with railroad tracks in my front and back yards next to a lil park called Park Siding in the southside of Minneapolis. The line in front was originally Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul, and Pacific’s (aka “The Milwaukee Road’s”) Pacific Extension line out to the Dakotas, Montana, Idaho and Washington. The obscure curiosity into the history of iron horses that built this country grew thick into my teens… I first grabbed the ladder of a moving train in the backyard in 1992 when I was just 7 years of age.
Into my teens I began studying by books, scanners, and the knowledge from my best friend who is a railroad dispatcher for what was CP Rail. He taught me all of the inside info and I’ve absorbed my own over the years. I’ve even had opportunities to run many locomotives in my life out on the mainlines of BNSF, UP, CP Rail, etc… I could go on, but for most of you it’ll be like speaking Chinese.
I got into writing on stuff in 1997 on my own from seeing it on the streets — Ewok, Yen34, Spel and much of the HM “Heavy Metal” crew influenced me the most. TIE, SETUP, TWIST, MATOKIE SLAUGHTER, and railroad monikers have me hooked for life, especially Herby, John Easley and the rare Mainline Mac.
I’m obsessed with ghost towns and turning them into outdoor art museums. I aim at making art for those that aren’t interested in typical urban style graffiti done by “bro’s,” and for those that may lack a vocabulary and interest in nature, dreams, and good music.
I went on my very first long distance train hopping journey from Minneapolis to Seattle in 2006. My Grandma dropped me off at BNSF’s giant Northtown Yard and I made my way onto a stack train. Since 2006 I have been non-stop riding freight, particularly high priority top-tier intermodal trains that carry UPS, FedEx, and LTL, reaching top speeds of up to 70 mph. They are closely watched so I prefer riding alone especially out of or in Los Angeles.
I always ride with my bike Alameda; I’m obsessed with long mileage biking. As I write this I’m literally preparing to ride out to Winslow, AZ and then bike Route 66 into New Mexico! My body is like my art on the rails—we are always rolling!
Graffiti was the gateway drug to hanging around the wrong people, parties, bars, and using alone. I’ve struggled with addiction and after countless interventions with friends, it was really Crime Pays But Botany Doesn’t and Dead City’s Adrian and Grumpy telling me I needed rehab badly.
With the tiny bit of fuel left in my burner I made a radical change and came down to LA for detox and rehab. The brutality of Compton’s McK Hospital Detox was like jail kinda and they starved us almost. I started praying and found out about American Indian Changing Spirits in Long Beach. I was accepted and Adrian of DCP drove me there. We have a sweat lodge for our ceremonies run by my Uncles Rick and Ken who are Lakota Tribe and Sioux. The staff are all family and I still go back for sweat.
I learned a vast amount of coping skills and how to distinguish cravings and erase triggers—breaking the law, being alone, art therapy, biking hundreds of miles a week help, and also sending art off on the rails. I’m also interested in storm chasing, botany (especially cacti), and geology. Being sober helps me focus on so many more hobbies which influence my art.
Conquering Destiny is the chapter I’ve reached in my life and Mi sueño es Destino! I’ve moved on from Deuce 7 and now go by Destiny 27 or 7. The number 27 means wisdom and perfection and is lucky. It also came from a locomotive which is an old green Dinosaur SD9 built in the late 1950’s.
Part II: Don’t Dangle your Limbs off a Moving Train!
On a late July afternoon on an East Coast journey headed west back to Minneapolis, I hung out with some old heads in Milwaukee who are huge fans of my rail art. I got dropped and ready rock freight bound for St. Paul. Instantly we spotted an open boxcar. Perfecto! We departed into the vastness of cornfields, dairy farms dotted by quaint rural historic towns. An utterly scenic array of old barns and rickety rusted old cars. I put on Joy Division and gazed into the sky. Cruising along at a good 45–50 mph and then it happened—Waaaccckk!
My legs hit a bridge with no clearance… My feet were mangled and squirting blood! I went into shock and crawled to my pack in disbelief and used a shirt to tie tourniquets to stop the blood. I lay there crying on my phone as it’s about to die. I call my mom to tell her what happened then it dies! We stopped at Portage, WI to crew change and I thought I could stay on. Ha. We took off and I regret not getting off there, but then this story wouldn’t be so gnarly.
We stopped at a siding 10 miles west of Portage at Lewiston to meet an eastbound. I rolled my pack off and then my body onto the ground and went to the side screaming for help. With cornfields on both sides there was nothing but me and Canadian Pacific rails. I climbed over to the field on my hands and knees and down a steep ditch and climbed up its slope with all my arm strength.
I left my gear behind and started crawling on my hands and knees through the late July tall corn for a couple hours until I finally came to a road. I put my leg in the air and an old man with his grandson stopped and were in shock and thought they were in a bad nightmare. We rushed to the Portage, WI hospital and on the way there were EMS, cops and people looking for me. My mom called it in after my phone died.
I was greeted at the hospital by a tall corn fed Sheriff and he said the rail cop in Milwaukee wanted me to go to jail. He said I’d been through enough and didn’t take me. The nurse took off my tourniquet and blood squirted across the floor. I got my phone back on and immediately called Dispatcher Mike with CP Rail (my bff) and he said, “That was you?!?” He was at the office in downtown Mpls at the old SOO LINE Bldg and everyone was freaked out about my accident. I had caused a huge scene.
My Dad drove from Minneapolis to get me and we went back to get my gear. He walked through the field for an hour and got it! When I got home to Grandma’s—who had a mainline in her backyard—I rested a couple days and then biked around Minneapolis to show off my leg and tell the story to friends at bars and parties! It’s a very popular story and I almost died on July 19th 2009!
Don’t dangle your limbs off a moving train!
-DESTINY 27 for Dead Relatives.
