My Grandfather grew up near Vanceburg Kentucky, mostly on his own. During the summer if he knew the Reds were playing at home in Cincinnati he would hope on a west bound freight and catch a game. He would hitch hike home because the tracks around Cincinnati were to confusing. One time after doing this for several years after consuming a few beers he decided to jump a freight for the ride home. He spent the next 3 years in Iowa, where he finally got off after deciding the train was not going to turn around.
Many years ago a trolley line ran up the west side of Chautauqua Lake from Jamestown to Mayville. Traces of the line remain today. When I was kid in the 50s the remains of a bridge crossed Goose Creek, not far from my home. It was nothing more than a pair of steel girders about a foot wide and fifty feet long, about ten feet above the creekbed. Many of my friends liked to ride their bikes across. I tried to walk it once and it was then that I discovered my extreme fear of heights. I finished the crossing on my hands and knees. To my knowledge nobody ever fell off the bridge. Ironically, today I am helicopter pilot. I can be comfortable in the cockpit only when the seat belt and shoulder straps are TIGHT!
What finally broke me and my buddy Greg (or me at least) from hanging around the train cars and rail yards was, when I was walking along side of some side tracked cars in the summer of 1976, and all of a sudden a large number of wasp flew out from under the car I was walking past and stung me up real bad all over my right hand, arm and the side of my face. I turned and looked back and there was a nest the size of a dinner plate with about fifty wasp waiting for their turn at me. Within seconds my throat started swelling shut and I got real dizzy. Greg ran to the nearest road and flagged a car down, and I ended up having to go to the emergency room for treatment.
Trainluver1