Trestle-Jumping Fad Puts Youths in Path of Danger : Adolescence: Boys say dodging trains on Carlsbad bridge is rite of summer. Officials call it a date with death.

When you hang with the boys on the Carlsbad trestle, the rule is you don’t jump until you see the whites of the train engineer’s eyes.

Ignoring the blaring horn or the shouts, you crouch on the wooden trestle’s inner rail until the wicked vortex of the hurtling engine sucks you in and then spits you back out.

Finally, at the last possible moment, with your heart leaping from your chest, you jump toward the water below as the whoosh of the passing cars drowns out your whoops of exhilaration.

“It’s like the total rush of a lifetime,” said 16-year-old Eric Counihan. “You know the train is barreling down on you. And then, right at the peak of the danger, you bail out. You cheat death. It’s a feeling nothing else can beat.”

Summertime is here. And along the San Diego County coastline, way-cool surfer types have found a way to seek a few thrills at the beach on days when the waves are flat.

Most afternoons, they can be found on the train trestle that spans Carlsbad Lagoon. Like train robbers, they lie in wait for the passing northbound and southbound San Diegans.

No schedules are needed. The boys have the routine memorized and can predict the approach of a train within minutes while they make a few practice leaps, plunging 35 feet into the salty lagoon below.

But sometimes the big engines surprise them, appearing around the corner as if out of nowhere.

“Train! Train!” they scream as they run for their positions on the rail. And then, in an instant, the thrill is gone. The train has passed. The jumpers are in the water, laughing at their split-second insult at death.

The boys call it a little game of trackside chance. Freight train roulette. A bit of the jump and jive.

“We know what we’re doing,” said Travis Ranson, a tall, skinny 16-year-old. “We know the turf here. So what could go wrong?”

Plenty, according to police and railroad officials. Largely uncool things such as death. Or having your body decapitated and dragged along the tracks so the coroner has to use a dozen body bags just to pick it all up.

“I’ve seen what happens when a train hits a human body,” said Lt. Joseph Hasenauer of the Carlsbad Police Department. “It’s one of the most horrific things you’ll ever see in your entire life. The body ends up in pieces. Sometimes, they don’t find all of it.

“Kids have been doing stupid things since I was a kid. But these kids think they’re invincible. They’re taking such a stupid chance, one that’s going to catch up with them. If their parents knew, I’d bet they’d wring their necks.”

Authorities acknowledge that the practice of trestle jumping in Carlsbad goes back decades; fathers, uncles, and even some police officers are trestle-leaping veterans.

But in recent years, the practice has taken a decidedly more dangerous turn as youths looking for more electrifying thrills have decided to play chicken with the 150-ton locomotives, which often travel in excess of 90 m.p.h.

“The train,” said 13-year-old Justin Vallez of Oceanside, “adds that extra element. And that makes it cool.”

Despite more than a dozen pedestrian deaths on San Diego County railroad tracks over the past two years--as well as a recent incident when a youth broke an arm after being hit by a train at the Carlsbad trestle--officials have not been able to dim interest in the practice.

Carlsbad police say the youths’ favorite trestle--known as YMCA because of its proximity to a youth camp nearby--is difficult to patrol because it is along a rutted dirt road that allows the teen-agers to scatter before officers can arrive.

And a boat patrolman for the city’s recreation department meets with jeers as he tries to chase away the 20 or more youths who gather on the rail bridge on any hazy summer afternoon. “They only thumb their noses at him,” Hasenauer said. “Or worse.”

Mike Martin, a spokesman for the Santa Fe Railway, which owns the rights to the railroad, said that youths playing chicken with trains is one of the most frustrating problems the company faces.

“At best, it’s foolish,” he said. “At worst, it’s deadly. But it’s all illegal. That’s private property. But no matter what we’ve done to put the word out to kids and people who feel a need to walk and play games along the railroad tracks, nobody seems to listen.”

When officials run the jumpers off, they only return the next day, or even hours later. Fences erected near the site have been torn down and left on the tracks, as though in a show of defiance.

Even safety classes held to warn thrill-happy youngsters have not reached their audiences. Martin said a 10-year-old Carlsbad boy who in March had his arm broken by a passing train at the trestle had attended a rail safety class only weeks before.

“That kid had to pass 17 ‘No Trespassing’ signs to reach that spot,” Martin said. “What can we do? We’ve tried everything. The only things that stops them is when they get too old for it and move on to something else.”

For some, trestle jumping in the path of a passenger or freight train has become a perverse right of passage.

“Well, there’s other ways to prove your manhood . . .,” Martin said. “Even if we installed an electric fence, had television monitors or an army of security out there, those boys would find a way to test their limits.”

The trestle-jumping fad is the latest of a number of games of chance teen-agers have played with trains over the years.

At some spots, teens have lined up on the rails to see who will be the last to jump from the train’s path. While being videotaped by their friends, some sit on the tracks and play a stare-down game with oncoming trains. Others put rocks along the metal rail ribbon to watch as the engine cuts through the stones, sending them exploding and whizzing about the tracks.

Three years ago, an Escondido youth playing chicken was killed when he laid his head on the tracks in Oceanside and was struck by an Amtrak passenger train.

And years ago, at a San Diego trestle known to teen-agers as “the coffin,” youths climbed up beneath the wooden framework of the bridge and stuck their heads up through the tracks as the train approached.

“Imagine the intelligence it takes to do something like that,” Martin said. “The engineers report this stuff and are helpless to stop the train in time to do anything about it. They look down the tracks and see these heads pop up and down like those animals in that carnival game.”

By far the most insidious flirtation with death is a practice known as “train surfing.” Seen in South America and on the East Coast, youths climb aboard subway trains and duck the wires they encounter at high speeds.

“We haven’t seen that thing out here yet because there aren’t many guy wires across the tracks,” Martin said. “But with all the rapid transit projects popping up, train surfing is coming, rest assured of that.”

Jean Daley, a special agent for the Santa Fe Railway, has spent years pursuing the Carlsbad trestle jumpers.

“I’ve spent my whole career up there,” said the 12-year railroad security veteran. “I’ve had to ignore everything else to get a beat on those kids.”

Still, she has seen youths ignore warnings and return time and again.

Because jumpers are so hard to catch, Haley has made some arrests by using binoculars to isolate teen-agers and then radioing police, who make the grab. Other times, she has spread thick grease on the wooden rail in the hopes of dissuading the youths from climbing there.

The tactic has not been well received by jumpers: “She must be some kind of bozo,” said one youth. “That slippery stuff is dangerous. What’s she trying to do, really get us killed?”

Daley attributes such bravado to one thing: peer pressure.

“To the people who expect these young kids to tell a group of their pals: ‘I don’t want to do that, it’s too dangerous, or my parents said not to,’ ” Daley said, “yeah, right.”

Jeff Pool, 21, described why he makes a dive off the Carlsbad trestle at least once a day. “I’m a thrill seeker,” he said.

The younger boys say they are not swayed by “scare stories” told by police. Some have even taken to standing on the bridge inches away from a passing train. Or jumping at night, when distances are harder to judge and everything gets spooky.

Their mascot is a headless snake, found decapitated on the tracks, which they hang on a nearby bridge post.

“My mom jumped here as a kid,” said bare-chested Justin Vallez. “She doesn’t mind me doing it. She told me just to not get killed.”

Lisa Vallez, Justin’s mother, said in a telephone conversation that Justin never jumped from the trestle when a train was near. Like many teen-agers, she said, a lot of what her son says is exaggerated. “He’s all talk, no action.”

When told that Justin had jumped inches from a train that very afternoon, she responded: “That close, huh? I don’t agree with that. Just jumping from the trestle is OK. Even I did it. But, in front of the train? That’s stupid. Looks like I’m going to have a talk with Justin.”