Mr. Five Forty-1 is a skater and graffiti writer who rides trains with a mission.

I just wanted to ride a train home to Phoenix from San Bernardino, it’s such a gnarly, industrial little shithole, surrounded by burnt cars and sunflowers. I’m at the neck of the yard where you hop out, getting bored, so I decided to paint. And here comes this rail security guy. He’s got the camera on his chest filming me. This guy’s so extra. He’s telling me to leave. And I’m all sus. I just took my board and my radio and went and grabbed a beer. I left my bag, like a dumbass. I thought it was hidden enough.

Coming back, I fell going down the bridge. I broke my radio screen, but it still worked. I can't go where I was because he’s posted up there, so I had to go a block down. I hopped three fences and pulled up to where my stuff was supposed to be. My bags weren’t there. I was like, “What the fuck?” I go around the corner and see him watching for me, and I see my bag. He fucking ripped it all apart, like a freaking cartoon. There’s stuff thrown everywhere. He took all the graffiti shit. I was pissed. I somehow was able to grab all my shit, run away, and put it all back. And then here comes my train… 

It didn’t stop. Another one came as it was starting to become evening. Hopped on, no problem. Then we’re off, bro. It was sick, nice little Sunset Route. I pulled up to Needles at four in the morning. Didn’t really sleep much, but that’s cool. Skated all the way to Arizona, like two miles right across the Colorado River. There’s this abandoned beach house right there by the bridge. I decided to sleep right on the porch and was woken by the sun.

Needles is super fun. Big yard, it's pretty damn active. I waited out near the bridge, hopped on, and was off. I didn’t know my lines too well. I was thinking I was going to Phoenix, but it went straight to Winslow. It was still a really beautiful ride going through Arizona. Got really cold going through Flagstaff. It’s the higher elevation. I was freezing my ass off. I didn't even have a sleeping bag, like a fool. I don't know what's wrong with me, just got the mat and a blanket. 

In Winslow, I heard that my ride, a train to Phoenix, was gonna arrive around 2 am. I had to wait four hours, but I was kicking it. Here come two dudes on bikes. I’d never seen riders on bikes before, but I knew they were riders because of their bags. They pulled up on me. They knew me because I guess I’m a popular guy in my hometown, like I’m just a little too up with the graffiti. We’re going in the same direction. Here comes the 2 am train on the dot. I was like, “No freaking way!” These dudes, they’re tired. They’re gonna rest for the night, catch the next one. I got their number and I hopped on the train. Then I passed out. I woke up, checked my phone. Goddamnit, going right back to Needles! That cost me 16 hours total. 

I just got off, hopped right back on another Sunset Route. But this time, I’m in contact with the buddies I just met. They’re telling me they’re on the right train to Phoenix, texting me the info. I’m like, “Hopefully I make it in time.” I’m three hours away in Flagstaff. They’re like, “The engine’s on, we’re rolling. Where you at?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m almost there.” I’m on my way in. That train is just waiting for my train to come in for clearance. Right then, my phone falls out of my damn Dickies pants, right into the well of the container. It was really tight, I could not touch the floor to grab it. 

Of course, it’s Winslow, and they have some gnarly security, all the cameras and trucks with flashlights. I finally pull into the yard. Here comes a fucking truck. He’s got the fancy lightsaber flashlight, and this place is pitch black. I am flipping out because I lost my phone mid-text, and I can’t move at all, or I’ll be seen. I’m just being still, a little pebble. I want to get off, try to go to this train where my new buddies are. They’re going to Phoenix. I need to go. And I have no phone. I pretty much have ten bucks to my name.

Here comes the junk train, leaving the yard. It perfectly cuts off the security guy, so he has no view of me anymore. I’m like, “Alright, this is go time.” I’m running like an idiot. It’s pitch black. Made it across the yard, hauling ass, and I hopped on some empty wells on the fly. I had to stay low, like a little monkey, because the security guard was right there. It was hard, that’s for sure. Then I just rode suicide under the little thing, waited for all the security to go by. Finally, the train pulls out, we're going home. We’re hauling ass. I’m stoked. I’ve been telling my friends, “Yeah, I think I’m gonna be home Thursday now,” instead of Wednesday. The days keep edging. Of course, I’m out of contact now.

Our train eventually stops right in the middle of nowhere, between Flagstaff and Winslow. It’s this plateau where a bunch of reservations meet. It’s pretty much a meteor crater, ain’t jack shit out there, besides a fucking hole. Before the train stopped I met up with my new train buddies. I walkee 15 trains down and did the suicide walk along the empty well cars. It was a little fun. I was playing Indiana Jones for a second, hopping on top of the hoppers. I finally crawl up this one hopper and see ‘em in the empty well. I wave, like, “Hey guys!” They’re like, “No way!” It was such an ecstatic moment. 

The train eventually stopped and we slept off the night in the empty wells. Waking up it was hot as fuck already, the sun’s cooking us. We're pissed. I've tried to hitchhike out of there before. It does not go so well. People are not nice around there. We’re just fucking cooking on this train. We decide to go to the engine in the back. We got in and drank the shit out of the baby waters they have in the fridge. It was awesome. We ran out of food and were dreaming about Circle K hot dogs. We sat in there, kicking it hard in the AC, just listening to the radio, reading books. I passed out on the floor. I had no phone, just enjoying life.

We ended up kicking it too hard. Here comes a car hauling ass. We packed all our shit, hid in the porta-john real quick. Didn’t work. Fool checked that right away. He opened the door and closed it as hard as he could. He’s like, “can’t be in there!” We’re really apologetic and respectful. We’re young guys, clean. He’s like, “I don’t want to see you. Get lost.” We just snuck back on the train. Twenty damn hours sitting in the goddamn heat. The train decided to leave at 3:30 pm, perfect Sunset Route through Flagstaff. We pulled up to Phoenix at nine in the morning. I was stoked, I had a buddy that lived nearby who gave me a ride home. 

That was my ‘22 fucking birthday trip right there. 

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Masthead

Editor-in-chief — Andrew Fedorov

Rails Editor — Connor McFarland

Altitude Editor — Matt Gu

Open Road Editor — Nico Lethbridge

Deputy Rails Editor — Connor Noble