The Train-Time Continuum (part 6)

Sometime at night we slowed to enter the North Platte freightyard, supposedly Union Pacific's biggest, and I noticed the beam of a flashlight waving around a few cars in front of me, so I rolled up as quickly (and quietly) as I could in case it was the Bull. It was. He was looking into every level of the autorack just two cars in front of mine, and I knew what that meant, but since I knew where he was, but he didn't know where I was, I had a slight advantage. I waited until he had climbed up the ladder and stepped inside the upper level, then I climbed down and rapidly put a couple of strings of cars between me and him. I thought for a minute about sneaking around and climbing back into the cars he already searched, but I really needed to get at least a few hours of un-interrupted sleep, so I walked out to a field next to the departure yard and rolled out for what was left of the night.

The next morning I walked over to a convenience store and got some real beer, at least what passed for real beer in Nebraska. This time I bought a bag of ice, and the lady at the counter let me take a couple of trash bag liners to keep everything cold. Into my pack they went, and I staggered back to the departure yard, sweating like a pig even though it was only 11:00am. There was a long string of grainers on the same track I caught west out of last year, so I picked out a clean one, stashed some cardboard inside the cubbyhole, then walked ahead a dozen cars or so and headed off into the field to wait.

About the time I opened my last beer I heard power pull up to the head end, which was fine with me, because I really wanted to get moving so I could feel something resembling a cool breeze for a change. Pulling out finally there was a blissful drop in my body temperature, and I relaxed and watched the ever-boring grasslands fly by, soon to be replaced by mountains, and trees, and rivers with cold, clear water in them, and lots of real beer...

Apparently this train was made up of loaded grainers, on their way to some port to be shipped somewhere or maybe turned into some real beer even. Their extra weight made them ride great, not at all like the rattle-traps that make up empty grain trains headed east from the West Coast. At some point we reached some rolling hills and slowed a bit, but we were still making pretty good time for a junk train. I was now feeling downright cool, maybe even bordering on cold, and I assumed it was from the evaporative cooling brought upon by my sweat-soaked t-shirt and our speed, but now it was getting darker, too. It was almost like time was speeded up and it was now after sundown, even though my watch said it was mid-afternoon. I tried to remember just what time zone my watch was in, and where I should change it back, when it got really dark, and I turned around to see that we were heading into the darkest thunderstorm I had ever seen. I got up and grabbed my gear to throw into the cubbyhole but it was too late, and I just sat back down to enjoy what it must be like to take a train through a car wash. It was very impressive — I imagined the banner headlines that would appear in California if it ever rained like this. Just as I was grooving in my personal sauna the rain stopped and we entered blinding sunlight, and in the constant wind my clothes were bone dry in no time.

The next day it was time to switch trains in Salt Lake City, as there was a hotshot on the track next to me in the yard and I heard on the scanner that it was going to Stockton, so I bid my faithful grainer goodbye and within a few feet climbed up on a piggyback and pulled out, crossing another state off my list with reluctance, as I would have preferred to spend far more time in Utah than Iowa. As fast as my grainer was, this baby really flew! The only annoyance was making sure that when I opened my pack for something I kept a firm grip on whatever loose items were inside, as our speed seemed to create a sucking action under the trailer and I almost lost my foam pad when I turned around to look forward. It was wonderful to spend the day seeing Nevada, but the Sierra Nevada range was passed at night, and I ended up sleeping through possibly the most scenic part of the whole two weeks I was riding, but I was back in California now... back in civilization.