Tramp spends more time walkin’ ‘n he does ridin’. These yards is built big. Ya come in one end, an’ ya walk a good ways to make yer outboun’ connection. An’ they got these yards that’s built way the hell outta town; an’ if it’s food yer wantin’, yer lookin’ at a long hike to the store. An’ they’ll be times when ya gotta make a connection to a diff’rent line. Say yer on the UP an’ ya wanna git on the Burlin’ton. Ya might have to walk ten, ‘leven miles to make the connection from the UP yard to the Burlin’ton yard. If ya gotta good lotta shit to carry, ten miles is a ways.  I know guys carry a hunnert poun’s a stuff with ‘em. Makes ten miles look like a hunnert an’ ten when yer totin’ that much shit. I try an’ keep it light on account a ya figger yer gonna have to tote yer stuff ‘long with ya ever’where ya go. Whether it’s goin’ to the store, fillin’ up yer water jug, er goin’ to town fer somethin’ er other, no matter where ya go, ya’ve got yer stuff with ya. I carry a water jug, bedroll, an’ pack, but I keep that pack light. All’s I got in there’s my fryin’ pan an’ cook pot an’ a change a clothes an’ a jacket an’ a few odds an’ en’s like my knife an’ pliers an’ stuff. I tote a food bag too. Carry that in one han’. Don’t mind the walkin’ so much, but ya might as well make it as easy on yerself as ya c’n.

Use’ to be these guys called nine-milers, did nothin’ but walk. Walked from town to town.  Never accepted a ride, never rode on a train; walkin’s all they’d do. Got their name from the way those towns in the Midwest is laid out. ‘Bout ever’ nine miles er so, there’d be a town, b’tween the farms. That was in the thirties an’ forties. Ain’t many a them guys left. I run ‘cross one guy in Illinois a few years back, had a big sack slung over his shoulder, walkin’ ‘long the road. I was sittin’ under this big oak tree, had me some coffee goin’ an’ waved him over. Yeah, turned out he was a nine-miler. The last of ‘em far as I know.

88.