Monday, January 2, 2023

A Rendevous on the Rails with the 611

Just 2 days after getting back from England, we had another trip to embark on. My favorite train, the Norfolk & Western 611, was running trips up in Strasburg, PA, so I had bought tickets to ride in a carriage behind her. It had been a few years since the weekend of chasing her from Manassas to Front Royal and back again, and I'd often wondered why she hadn't repeated those runs, when the weekend had been very popular with her fans. Apparently, Norfolk and Southern who own those railroads haven't wanted to repeat the runs, for insurance reasons, so it now seems Strasburg, or Richmond, her residential home, are the only places she can currently run from, that are reasonably close to us.

It was a good 3 hour journey up there, and freezing cold once we emerged from the car, with high winds buffeting us as we rushed to check in. We walked down to the platform and awaited the Queen of Steam. I was immediately covered in goosebumps and a lump welled in my throat as she slowly turned the corner, her lamp gleaming and smoke puffing up into the sky; it had been a long time since I'd seen this beautiful engine. I was so excited to actually be traveling on a beautifully restored carriage that would be pulled by her, and we soon bundled quickly aboard. Thankfully, the carriages were heated, and soon the whistle blew, steam chuffed over the roof above us, and we were off! Time turned back 100 years as we clunked along the rails, a narrative over speakers about the railroad we were traveling on.



Shooting photos through the glass was a little difficult, but I wasn't too bothered. I was so enamored to finally be on a carriage being pulled by the 611 that I was quite content for a while to just look out the window and enjoy the ride. As we passed over crossings, cars were parked on the sides of roads, with spectators standing and taking photos with phones and cameras, something I had done myself the last time I saw the 611. I have to admit feeling a little smug that I was now onboard one of her carriages, but did feel a pang of pity for people being outside in the freezing cold, and then I realized that they were just as excited to be watching her pass by, just as I once been. The 475 was also running and was on the opposite track, returning to the station, as it passed by, it's reflection in the glass of our carriage creating an interesting shot.



 I didn't take many photos on the first leg of our ride, content to just sit and watch people watching us, and enjoy the scenery with smoke billowing across the fields. At Paradise, PA, the 611 disengaged, and then rode past our carriages to hook up at the front, and perform a brake test, so she could pull us back to the station. People inside started pulling down the windows to lean out, and I followed suit, smiling as I watched people's heads and arms holding phones, leaning out to capture this huge metallic beauty pass us slowly by.





On the way back, I asked a couple seated nearby, who I'd been chatting to, if they minded the window being open for some of the return journey, and they had no issues with me and my camera leaning out, capturing the plumes of black and white smoke as it unfurled and tumbled across the fields, swirling then evaporating. The 475 rolled by again, pulling her carriages to the point we'd just left. She is Strasburg's oldest steam locomotive, built in 1906, and the only 4-8-0 wheel configuration locomotive running in North America. 4-8-0 means 4 leading wheels on 2 axles, 8 powered wheels on 4 axles with no trailing wheels. The 611 is a 4-8-4 configuration.








 



All too quickly we were pulling into the station, our ride completed; it had only taken about 40 minutes. We clambered down quickly to run along the platform and see her at the end of the track before she began her next ride. What a beauty! What magnificence! I didn't know whether to take photos or just stand and drool. She was looking absolutely resplendent after her recent restoration. Since November 2021, she's undergone extensive boiler work, but it was plain to see she'd also had a repaint in areas. She looked brand new. I gawped at her huge shiny wheels, peered closely at her shining bell, desperately wanting to touch every part and stroke her sides, streaked with rivulets of water. I didn't know where to stand, it was impossible to take her whole length in. I strode back and forth, noticing every detail, stopping when I saw an engineer with a long rod, and discovered he was pushing ash into the hopper to avoid overheating.




We waited for her to return from the next ride, just so we could watch her pull into the station again, and this time I focused on the front of her, that huge beautiful black face, streaked with steam, shiny after her workout. I had to force myself to take photos, I just wanted to gawp. I looked at those passengers that had paid extra to actually be in the cab, and help with shoveling steam, blowing the whistle, or just sitting and relishing the ride from a different perspective. Next year, I will do that, if she runs again.




 I walked up and down, and back again, and then once she'd hooted a farewell as she pulled her latest load of adoring fans down the track, we decided to have a wander around the museum, more to warm up than anything.



 



There were some gorgeous engines inside the museum, and an impressive model railway, but I was more interested in the trains outside than inside, massive bolt laden hulks, waiting to be restored, patiently waiting their turn out in all weather.

After strolling around outside for about 10 minutes, we succumbed to the cold, and decided to leave. The winds were freezing, it was so blustery, and my eyes were constantly streaming. We walked back to where our car was parked and chatted with an older gentleman, who turned out to be a mechanic who had worked on the 611. He told us that the chief engineer who's worked on her since the 70's was here today, and I told him of my ardent love for this locomotive. He smiled and said that since I was a genuine fan he had a small gift for me. He pulled out from the inside of his jacket a scrunched up cluster of tissues and carefully unwrapped them, pulling out a small chunk of coal, which he said had come from her tender. I was overwhelmed with his gift and gave him a huge hug. Elliott had got me a lovely 611 badge, and these 2 souvenirs went behind glass when I got home.


Nightwaterproject.com posted this video of the ride, if you'd like to follow along. There's also shots of the trains entering the station. And the last photo was my favorite of the day, reminding me of a dog that's done well and is being rewarded with a treat. She did well! Roll on next year for another ride!

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