Trains of Thought
The portal that led to paradise
There was a time when a young lad could stand at trackside and look up at the fellow who had what we considered a dream job – that of a locomotive engineer or even a hostler. If he were lucky, he might get invited through the door that led to paradise – the inner sanctum of the locomotive, its cab.
If the occasion was the first cab ride in a favorite locomotive, be it steam or diesel, so much the better. Put another way, if in the excitement of the moment we remembered to record the number and type of locomotive, it probably became our favorite at that very moment.
The accompanying photo was taken by Doug Leffler at the New York Central engine facility in Jackson, Mich., in March 1963. “I was fortunate to have had cab rides in GP9s before,” Doug recalls, “but never in an Alco FA-1 cab unit, which was somewhat of a rarity on the Michigan Division. The image shows the distinctive nose of the FA and was taken just before the hostler invited me up for a short ride.
“The cab unit was part of a three-unit set: the FA, an FB, and an RS-3. The power had arrived on a freight from the east (Detroit or perhaps Toledo) and had to be turned for a return trip. The easy way to turn the set was a trip around the wye just west of the engine terminal. The hostler let me ride for the turn.”
Those days are long past.
Today, even strolling onto railroad land, let alone looking for a cab ride, is almost certain to earn you a rapid escort off the property, if not a legal encounter. We’ve learned to admire professional railroaders doing their jobs from afar. They have enough on their minds without wondering what we’re doing so close to the railroad.
But those of us of a certain age can reminisce. I’ve previously written about my first cab ride in a Rock Island F7. It was perhaps a half-mile or so in duration on a southbound freight that had taken the siding at Sheffield, Iowa. From my perch looking over the fireman’s shoulder, I was convinced that our locomotive hung more than far enough out over the main line to be sideswiped by the onrushing northbound freight. But it didn’t.
Ride number two was a Chicago & Eastern Illinois EMD BL2 in Cayuga, Ind., and I’ve been a fan of those strangelooking beasts ever since.
I lost track of cab rides after that, but they have included a Gulf, Mobile & Ohio E7 zipping northeast toward Chicago at
70 mph, a massive Western Maryland Shay loping along the Greenbrier River at maybe 15 mph, a Nickel Plate Berkshire capably handling a long passenger train upgrade in West Virginia’s New River Gorge, and a narrow-gauge General Electric U-boat tackling the grades between Christchurch and Greymouth on New Zealand’s South Island.
Before you come to the conclusion that I’m rubbing your nose in this, I want to point out that being in the cab of a locomotive is not always the dream job that it seems. The GM&O E7 ride was punctuated by a heartstopping moment as a station wagon filled with a family on their way home from church almost pulled out in front of us as we raced out of a cut on a curve. The Berkshire trip taught me a lesson as I watched the fireman duck behind the backhead when we met a coal train on the Chessie’s double-track main.
Times are different. We can’t go into a depot or climb the stairs to an interlocking tower to get a lineup or just to visit with a friend, because that’s trespassing – and there aren’t many depots or towers still manned, anyway.
Offsetting that are better cameras and even drones that, when used responsibly, allow us to photograph scenes from vantage points that we couldn’t get close to not that long ago. They represent new portals to the world we want to see and replicate in miniature.
Each time period incurs losses but offers new opportunities. It’s up to us to offset the former with the latter.
TODAY, EVEN STROLLING ONTO RAILROAD LAND IS ALMOST CERTAIN TO EARN YOU A RAPID ESCORT OFF THE PROPERTY. – TONY