Pssst! ... Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Caboose?

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Since the riggers' union required that ten men be put on the job, the final leg of the moving process usually cost about $3,000. Riggers were also difficult to locate and, even when they could be found, wouldn't move a caboose more than 12 miles.

Chuck eventually learned that, because a caboose weighs only 18 tons, it can be moved from a railroad by a housemover . . . who works either alone or with just one helper. Not only is this method considerably cheaper, but housemovers are easy to find and will haul a caboose almost any distance. Now Chuck can have his cars relocated just about anywhere, including places where there aren't any roads (just so long as a moving truck can make it over the ground) for about $400.

With a dependable source of cabooses lined up and the problem of moving the cars solved, Chuck obviously needed only one thing—customers—to put him in business. I was beginning to wonder just what kind of folks would buy a used railroad caboose when Bartlebaugh answered the question for me.

"People who buy cabooses come in all shapes and sizes, and they purchase the cars for many different reasons. Some folks want a caboose for a cottage, a hunting or fishing cabin, a ski lodge, workshop, art or craft gallery or even a permanent home. Others just buy the cars to put in their back yards."

The old railroad cars also have a special appeal to people on the move. A caboose owner can travel conveniently and relatively inexpensively with all the comforts of home . . . because he just takes his house with him. If it's in good repair and parked on an accessible siding, a caboose-home can ride the rails just like any other passenger car.

When Chuck wants to take a trip, for example, he simply tells the officials at the nearest freight office where he wants to go and fills out a bill of lading. The caboose is then inspected to see if there's enough oil in the hot boxes and that the brakes will hold air. If everything checks out, a train picks up the car, takes it to the siding nearest Chuck's destination and leaves it until he's ready to come back. Cost is 44¢ a mile, with a minimum travel requirement of 75 miles . . . not cheap, but not expensive either if a few friends ride along.

Chuck's description of living in a caboose was beginning to sound so good that I figured there must be some catch (probably money) that he hadn't told me about. Granted that a good used caboose bought from him cost only $1,250 plus an average $400 for delivery . . . how much would I really have to spend to turn one of the railroad cars into a completely finished and furnished home, ski lodge or whatever? And then how much would it cost to park and maintain my new pride and joy?

"That," says Chuck, "depends on what you want. I would say that for about $2,500 you could have yourself a really plush caboose. Take that purple one of Dr. Klein's. Right now, we're putting in a small sauna bath. Once that's completed, we'll add paneling, lighting fixtures, refrigerator, stove, bathroom, beds . . . the whole works. I'm sure that his total cost for the caboose, remodeling and delivery won't be much over $2,500."

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