Located at the edge of town in Ventura California, between the ocean, the railroad tracks and the Santa Clara River, it was a unique place in a bye gone era of America.

Hundreds of years ago this was the site of a Chumash indian village, but during the 40,s, 50’s and early 60’s it was a stop-over place for the men who hopped into box cars of passing trains and rode the rails. They were called hobos.

And this place was known as “Hobo Jungle.”


The men would jump off the trains, and stay overnight in natural shelters formed by the cedar trees which grew there. When the next train would come, they would hop back on and ride to their next destination. At night, one could see the tiny lights of the hobo’s campfires glowing in the dark woods.

It was a spooky place, with a haunting beauty.

No one dared venture into hobo jungle.  


It was a place of beauty, mystery, danger and intrigue. It was known as Hobo Jungle.

premeditated shootings

         Tom Peck, Photographer