They call themselves travelers.

Teenagers on the run from a dead-end life in Orwellian America, they hop freight trains searching for the only freedom left to them, taking off for anywhere-but-here and building new communities on the road. They are this generation’s version of Woody Guthrie’s Depression-scattered hoboes, of Bob Dylan’s antiwar dropouts. They congregate on the streets and occupy abandoned houses, and they are a controversial and in some circles unwelcome fixture on the banq...