Rolling

Rolling out of Cumberland, I started thinking about Bristol- the two towns could be twins. Deserted, desolate, obsolete. Like Bristol, Cumberland has the austere beauty of rust and decay. It's the girl who never left town, grown old and forgotten, but still wistfully reminiscent of her former beauty.
Mose looked out the window, dead serious. Little churches and iron bridges rolled by, sattelites of the desolate center point. It looked like an Arlo Guthrie song, steep inclines and gravel, grey-white pavement and dump trucks in front of the early changing leaves.

Both lost in our thoughts, our meditation was broken by the static-y narration of the engineer. We knew the route pretty well already, so the inaudibility of the announcements didn't affect us. The conductor came into our car, and Mose & I shot each other a look; he's right out of "The Polar Express", down to the details of his wardrobe. He silently punched our tickets as the mighty engine pulled us upward.

Along the route, there were plenty of people who sat out on this cool September Saturday to watch the train go by. At a couple of points, there were folks in the woods with lawn chairs set up, and they smiled and waved as we passed.

I asked Moses how he like it so far. He said great.

We sat quietly again for a while, watching the scenery. One time, I noticed his head bobbing slightly, then, he was out. It's like his switch was thrown. I pulled him onto my lap and snapped a photo.

I sat thinking about him, and about me, as well as about my own father. He snored quietly, the little bear. The train pulled into the frostburg station, which was our turnaround point. Like a duffel bag, I manuvered the sleeper through the aisle, and down the steps. Everyone who saw me smiled; some whispered "too exciting?" or something along those lines.
As I came around the depot, there was the mighty Mountain Thunder thrumming and hissing, heated up from the long pull up the incline. I didn't want to wake Moses, but at the same time, didn't want him to miss this moment with his object du obession.
I sat him gently on a park bench and watched his reaction. As he came to, he stared at the steam engine in repose, he looked around to get his bearings and said "Dad, there she is" he always refers to mountain Thunder as "she".

We posed for a picture or two, then went to buy a box lunch from the nice ladies who sell them by the depot steps. We joined some other train enthusiasts as we dined on turkey sandwiches, just yards from the giant machine. After a while, a bell rang, and the engine pulled forward onto the turntable, where it spun around more than once, which seemed as much for effect as for utility.

Pretty soon, we re-boarded, but not before we stopped back by the nice ladies' table for a pack of cookies for the long ride down the mountain back to cumberland.

Mountain Thunder

We set out on a bright autumn Friday for Uncle Andy's place with a three-fold mission: To celebrate cousin Garrett's first birthday; for Kathy to run in a 5K race; for Moses and I to finally ride the legendary steam engine, Mountain Thunder.
Stopping for gas outside Frederick, Maryland, Kathy and Violet got out to stretch. Violet kept looking at me, and as I tried to sneak a picture, she stuck out her tongue.
When we arrived, Aunt Lori incited Moses and Ruby to help make the birthday cake. They're excellent bakers.
Morning at Uncle Andy's place is amazing. He and Aunt Laurie live on the top of a mountain outside of Cumberland. From their porch, you can see all the way to Romney, West Virginia. That's pretty far.
We didn't make it to the race. I took a wrong turn and wasted about 45 minutes, which was just enough to see everyone standing around the finish line as I arrived with all three kids. Whoops. Kathy said she didn't run well, and felt heavy-legged.
Moving right along, Moses and I walked over to the train station to wait for Mountain Thunder's arrival. Moses was decked out in his conductor's hat, bandana, matching conductor shorts and his pocket watch.
It was like travelling with a celebrity. A lot of the old-timers wanted to chat with the Mose man about his interest in trains. The most common opening salvo included a variation on the phrase "You look like you could be driving this train", which Moses liked very much. He talked with some really interesting people, sharing his enthusiasm and enjoying that of others.

Finally, after a very long wait, the mighty Consolidation pulled into the station. The actual presence of Mountain Thunder is a powerful and intimidating thing, and I could see Moses' trepidation. Only his undying devotion to this odd piece of railroad history calmed his anxiety.
In case you didn't know, Mountain Thunder is a 1916 Baldwin Consolidation 2-8-0 that spent it's working life with the Lake Superior & Ishpeming Railroad. Moses and I walked up the steps and past the conductor, who instead of saying "All Aboard" greeted us with "Watch Your Step", which is probably a lot more useful. We took our seats, and Moses watched out the window until we heard a bell, then a great blast of the whistle as the engine belched smoke and pulled forward. Next stop, Frostburg Maryland.