MidReal Story
Rails of the Wild: A Teen's Journey
Scenario: A teenage boy who decides to take a camping trip and hop freight trains.
Create my version of this story
Mr. Thompson
wise mentor to Jamie, former scout leader to Jamie and Sarah, rugged with a greying beard, patient and resourceful
Jamie Peterson
adventurous teenager, friends with Sarah and mentored by Mr. Thompson, lean with tousled brown hair, curious and impulsive
Sarah Jennings
Jamie's cautious best friend, friends with Jamie, petite with sharp blue eyes, pragmatic and loyal
"Let’s go camping."
I said it on a whim, but I meant it.
It was the last day of school, and summer stretched out in front of us like an endless road.
Sarah looked at me like I’d grown a second head.
"Are you serious?"
she asked.
I nodded.
"Sure. Why not? We’ve got all summer to hang out together. Might as well start now."
She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
"Okay, sure. But where?"
I thought about it for a minute.
There were plenty of places we could go—parks, campgrounds, even just the woods behind my house.
But none of them seemed quite right for what I had in mind.
"Let’s go camping by the train tracks," I said.
She looked at me like I was crazy—and maybe I was—but she didn’t say no.
So we grabbed our bikes and rode out of town into the afternoon sun, like a pair of cowboys riding off into the sunset.
I felt a thrill of excitement deep in my gut.
I had a feeling this was going to be a summer we’d never forget.
We rode for about an hour, talking and laughing the whole time, until the train tracks came into view.
They ran parallel to the road for a while, then curved off into the woods, but there was a clearing right there by the road where they met up with an old water tower.
There wasn’t much shade—just a few scraggly trees here and there—but it was close to town and we’d have a good view of the trains coming and going.
"It’s perfect," I said when we got there.
Sarah looked skeptical, but she didn’t say anything.
She just set her bike down and started unpacking her sleeping bag and food and stuff.
I did the same, and pretty soon we had our camp all set up, with the water tower standing tall over us like an ancient sentinel guarding the secrets of the past.
"Hey, what are you two doing out here?"
I turned around so fast I almost fell over.
It was Mr. Thompson, my old scout leader from Boy Scouts, who’d taught us how to hike safely in the mountains and build fires without burning down the forest.
He was a rugged-looking guy with a greying beard and a smile that crinkled up his eyes like he was trying not to laugh at some private joke.
"I thought that was you," he said when he saw my face.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I’m camping," I said.
He looked at Sarah like he was seeing her for the first time.
"Who’s this?"
"My best friend," I said.
He nodded like that was good enough for him and settled himself on a big rock nearby.
"I’m just taking a break from my bike ride," he said.
"Mind if I sit here for a bit?"
I shook my head, and Sarah shrugged.
"I don’t care," she said.
"Okay," I said again.
Sarah glared at me like she was about to say something—probably something about not talking to strangers—but I shook my head at her quick-like and she kept her mouth shut.
"So," Mr. Thompson said after a minute or two, "how’d you two end up way out here by yourselves?"
I told him we’d decided to go camping for the summer, and he laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life.
"That takes me back," he said when he finally stopped laughing.
"Let’s go camping."
I said it on a whim, but I meant it.
It was the last day of school, and summer stretched out in front of us like an endless road.
Sarah looked at me like I’d grown a second head.
"Are you serious?"
she asked.
I nodded.
"Sure. Why not? We’ve got all summer to hang out together. Might as well start now."
She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
"Okay, sure. But where?"
I thought about it for a minute.
There were plenty of places we could go—parks, campgrounds, even just the woods behind my house.
But none of them seemed quite right for what I had in mind.
Then I remembered the train tracks that ran through town, and the idea hit me like a bolt of lightning.
"Let’s go camping by the train tracks," I said.
She looked at me like I was crazy—and maybe I was—but she didn’t say no.
So we grabbed our bikes and rode out of town into the afternoon sun, like a pair of cowboys riding off into the sunset.
I felt a thrill of excitement deep in my gut.
I had a feeling this was going to be a summer we’d never forget.
We rode for about an hour, talking and laughing the whole time, until the train tracks came into view.
They ran parallel to the road for a while, then curved off into the woods, but there was a clearing right there by the road where they met up with an old water tower.
There wasn’t much shade—just a few scraggly trees here and there—but it was close to town and we’d have a good view of the trains coming and going.
"Hey, what are you two doing out here?"
I turned around so fast I almost fell over.
It was Mr. Thompson, my old scout leader from Boy Scouts, who’d taught us how to hike safely in the mountains and build fires without burning down the forest.
He was a rugged-looking guy with a greying beard and a smile that crinkled up his eyes like he was trying not to laugh at some private joke.
"I thought that was you," he said when he saw my face.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I’m camping," I said.
He looked at Sarah like he was seeing her for the first time.
"Who’s this?"
"My best friend," I said.
He nodded like that was good enough for him and settled himself on a big rock nearby.
"I’m just taking a break from my bike ride," he said.
"Mind if I sit here for a bit?"
I shook my head, and Sarah shrugged.
"I don’t care," she said.
"Okay," I said again.
He was silent for a minute or two, watching the trains go by.
"You boys like trains?" he asked.
I nodded.
"I love them," I said.
I’d been fascinated by them ever since I was little.
There was something so exciting about the idea of traveling across the country on one of those giant machines that roared down the tracks night and day.
"Me too," he said.
I couldn’t tell if he was feeling nostalgic or not.
We were only about ten minutes from town, but it felt like we were in another world.
The tracks ran through a thick forest that stretched away as far as we could see in every direction.
It was like we were all alone in the middle of nowhere.
"Do you ever go train hopping?" I finally asked.
I’d heard stories about it from other kids at school, but none of them had ever done it themselves.
And I wasn’t sure if I believed them or not.
I mean, how could anyone ride on top of a train?
I thought maybe they were just making up stories to impress their friends or something.
But I knew Mr. Thompson wouldn’t lie to me.
He was the kind of guy who told it like it was, no matter what.
He looked at me like he was trying to decide whether or not to answer my question.
"I used to," he said finally.
"When I was about your age."
"It was amazing."
His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him.
"I went all over the country on one of those trains."
I could see the excitement in his eyes as he spoke.
He was clearly reliving the experience in his mind.
"It wasn’t just the ride that was fun," he said.
"It was everything about it.
The thrill of not knowing what was going to happen next.
The challenge of staying on top of a boxcar no matter how fast the train was going.
The feeling of being completely free and alive for the first time in your life."
Sarah was shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
"You’re not serious," she said.
"You don’t want to try it yourself?"
I asked.
She shook her head again.
"I don’t think so," she said.
I could tell she was scared to death just thinking about it.
Mr. Thompson looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"I have to warn you," he said.
"Do not try this at home.
It’s illegal and you could get hurt—or worse—if you’re not careful."
"I know," I said.
But the more he talked about it, the more I wanted to try it myself.
It sounded like so much fun!
Much more exciting than just sitting around watching TV all summer long like we usually did.
"Are there other ways to ride on a train?" he asked me.
I shook my head.
"Well then," he said, "you better be careful."
He told me that riding on a train could be dangerous too.
There were a lot of things that could go wrong: the train could derail and go off the tracks; it could crash into another train coming the other way; it could get stopped by the police, who would arrest you for trespassing on the railroad; or it could just stop in the middle of nowhere for no reason at all and leave you stranded there with no way to get back home.
"Are you okay?"
Sarah asked me when Mr. Thompson finally stopped talking.
I’d been staring at him like I was hypnotized by his words.
I wasn’t sure if I was okay or not.
On one hand, I knew she was right: train hopping was dangerous and stupid and we’d probably get caught if we tried it ourselves.
But on the other hand …
It sounded like so much fun!
The adrenaline rush of being on top of a boxcar racing down the tracks at top speed; the feeling of being completely free and alive for the first time in your life; the sense of adventure and danger that came with every new turn of events …