The 6 Train

Sunday nights mean rooftop barbecues in New York City. Two weeks before I was meant to return to Utah from my dream life I was at such a bbq, celebrating who knows whose birthday, when I met Ken Mckenzie.

And here is where I curse my impulsiveness and spontaneity.

Within twenty minutes of talking with Ken he asked me if I wanted to go do something crazy and a little scary. In my head I thought "I should not be running around the city at 11:30pm with this complete stranger" but what I said was "Yeah, ok!"

So we left and went back to my apartment because Ken said I had to change. Again I thought to myself "what on earth are we going to do that I can't wear this to?!" but what I said was "Yeah, ok!" I changed into black clothes as requested. Then he sent me back a second time. Flip flops were apparently also unacceptable. Running shoes, really? This was just getting more sketchy by the minute. But again I said "Yeah, ok (but I'm not giving you an exclamation point this time)"

As we head down to the subway, he finally tells me where we are going:

(You may find yourself questioning the reality of what I am about to tell you. If so, just glance through the synopsis of this book: The Mole People)

In New York there are a lot of homeless people, right? But then there are the mole people. These are the people that literally live underground in the subway stations--never seen the light of day! There are a few stations that have been closed for the past 20-60 years that the mole people call home. Roaming the tracks, breeding, toasting up some rats for dinner. Who knows what else. So that's where we are headed, to go explore one of these abandoned stations.

We head down to the 6 train where two of these old stations exist. I had a bit of trepidation at this point so we do a little reconnaissance. We got on the 6 train and I pressed my face against the window to see if I could glimpse the abandoned platform. Eerily enough, the train still stops there. Why? I have no idea. Maybe they are looking for mole peo

ple or vandals. Who knows really why they stop there. It's not like the driver is going to jump out of this little chair, run after a mole, tackle him to the ground, and drag him back into civilization. Or maybe that is the

plan. Solid.

The train slowly pulls into the old station. Nobody around us notices where we are or why we are stopping without the doors opening but sure enough I can see the platform. It's creepy. So now that I have seen where we are headed I feel brave and adventurous

and I'm ready to risk my life. The only way to get to the abandoned station is to go to a working station wait for the train to load with people and leave, jump on the tracks, run the 10 city blocks or whatever distance it is on the tracks, then jump onto the abandoned station before the next train comes through. It's very safe. The NYC transit is very predictable, regular, and well thought out...oh wait.

We are on the working station, trying to time the trains. The train c

omes in and loads up with people and leaves. This station had a maintenance ramp down to the tracks, so easy breezy, we just jog on down the ramp, get onto the tracks and start running after the train. Now run is not really a term I should be using. It isn't like we are taking a stroll on a nice asphalt pavement. The tracks are big wooden planks with sewage nastiness in between. You can't touch the one of the metal rails because it is electric and you'll die. Rats and who knows what else are skittering all around. And it's pitch dark. So I'm trying to hop from one plank to the next as quickly as I can so I don't get mowed down by the next train. Finally we reach the station. The platform is so much higher than I ever realized, probably about 6 six high. I use Ken's hands as a little step ladder

and boost myself up. As I was climbing up I put my leg down on the pla

tform to boost myself up. Ken immediately yelled at me not to touch anything because it was so dirty. Sure enough, my shin was completely coated with 20 years of thick black soot.

The station was so creepy but so cool! The walls were covered in graffiti. The stairs led straight up to a cement wall. There were holes in the walls where I'm 75% sure mole people spend some time. In fact, it looked like this:

So we were exploring around when a train pulled in. We had to hide

so that the driver/take down man would not see us. I was tempted to go slap the window, freak out those unassuming, i-pod listening riders. But I got so scared!

As the train pulled out Ken decided we had to go right then. As I peered over the edge I asked well how do you know another train isn't coming? He said oh I don't that's why we have to hurry. He jumped off the platform and took off down the tracks. I looked after and thought (in a little tiny scared voice) wait!... but he was gone. So I looked down at the tracks. Now would be a good time to mention my fear of heights and jumping off things. My options were

A. jump really close to the platform

B. jump out in the middle of the two death inducing metal rails, or

C. stay there...forever

Well Ken jumped in between the metal rails so I thought I should too. I went to put my hand down to boost myself off the platform, like a girl would, but I distinctively thought "oh no, I can't touch it, it's dirty" Like getting dirty should have been my first conce

rn. So I just launched myself off. As I did, Ken turned and yelled at me (probably because he realized he should have been helping me) I got startled, I lost my balance, my head started going faster than my body, it was an awkward and frightening moment for me. My foot landed on the edge of one of the wooden planks and the big bolts that hold the planks down. It rolled me to one side and I went crashing down on all fours to the rat-infested tracks. ouch. Ken came running back, tried to help me up, insisted we start running, and offered to carry me. To which I responded with a snappy "don't touch me!" I was in a lot of pain and very upset. I started hobbling after him down the dark tracks. When I say hobble I mean hobble! I was going very slowly and Ken kept rushing me, at the time I thought his pressure was a little unnecessary. Finally about half way down the tracks I looked up. Saw a bright light, put my head back down and kept on hobbling. Then I put something together, looked back up, stopped dead and had this little conversation with Ken

Kristen: "what is that?!"

Ken: "yeah, that's a train"

Kristen: "no it isn't, there isn't a number on the front, right?"

Ken: "yeah ok, we have to get out of here"

Kristen: "I can make it, keep going" (we were now in the middle of the two stations, I was not going anywhere fast, and I was a little delusional about how fast I was going an

d when I could get there)

I kept on plugging along while Ken was freaking out around me. The pain was clouding my head. Luckily, Ken saw these huge metal doors. He pried them open and told me to get inside. There was no way! I was not going into a dark closet on the subway tracks...I mean what if there was a moley inside?! I was fumbling with my phone trying to find the flashli

ght on it, once again not realizing the danger we were in. Ken finally shoved me inside, jumped in after me, pulled the door shut, and the train went rushing by. THE TRAIN WENT RIGHT BY US! I almost died! Literally 5 seconds longer on that track and I would have died. And I'm pretty sure no one would have ever found us. I was almost a squished bug on the front of a subway car. What a tragic death. Praise the heavens for mechanical closets!

When the train was by, we crept out and traveled back to the working station. Good thing the people just got onto that train that almost killed us --awkward moment avoided. My ankle was another story. Within a few days it started looking like this:

My little ankle swelled to the size of my thigh for about two months. It was also black and blue and purple for about two months. Four months later I finally went to a physical therapist and found out I ripped the muscle 3/4 of the way through. Maybe I should have gone to the doctor right off. What can I say, I didn't want to be put in a boot!

So there you have it

• I jumped on the subway tracks of New York City
• I ran in between two subway trains
• I explored a mole person's home
• I sprained my ankle, most severely
• I hid in a closet two inches from a killing train
• I was nearly killed by said subway train
• And, I am still in recovery from that blasted ankle

If anyone wants to do some subway exploration, call me