
The very first American hobos were cast-offs from the American Civil War of the 1860s. That's a far cry from what it used to be. In an ABC News story from 2000, the president of the National Hobo Association put the figure at 20-30, allowing that another 2,000 might ride part-time or for recreation. Very few people ride the rails full-time nowadays. And the best way to get there is to hop a train. Today's hobos are gutter punks and anarchists, crusty kids and societal dropouts trying to piece together an existence outside of civil society.

Hobo culture is alive and well in the United States, but it's a far cry from the sanitized Halloween-costume version most of us are used to - the patched overalls, the charcoal beard and the red-bandana bindle (that's a bundle on a stick). But Shorty is only one type of modern American hobo. For her, hoboing is a hobby and a way to honor her late father. She has a home in Iowa and a winter refuge in Florida. You cross the country, you're out there with nature, you go through Indian reservations, over mountains - it's a wonderful adventure, and you're seeing America for free.”įor Shorty and her white-haired hobo friends, hopping trains is one of the last great traveling adventures. You're sleeping on metal floor, after all. A veteran hobo called Road Hog USA showed her the ropes - where to hide from the “bulls” (train yard cops), where the train stops or slows enough to hop on, what type of train cars to look for, and what to bring in your pack. Shorty was in her mid-40s when she caught out on her first train from Dunsmuir, California to the legendary Roseville rail yard outside of Sacramento. Shorty didn't fully understand the lure of the hobo lifestyle until she began hopping trains herself in 1993. When a hobo dies, they say he's “caught the Westbound.” Shorty's father, Connecticut Slim, rode the rails for 44 years before catching the Westbound in 1990 to the hobo jungle in the skies. CHUCK BOWEN/AFP/Getty ImagesĬonnecticut Shorty's father is buried in the National Hobo Cemetery in Britt, Iowa. While the glory days of freight trains have long passed in America, there remains a loyal contingent of hobos and wannabes.


Collinwood Kid serves mulligan stew with park district employees at a 2007 hobo gathering at Deep Lock Quarry near Akron, Ohio.
