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Folks, I was late getting with the program because of family obligations, figured I had no chance to see the show live, but finally shook loose from nieces and their mothers about 5:00 p.m., three hours after special train was scheduled to arrive in Tacoma, drifted down to Fife UP yard hoping to maybe at least see the locomotives in static display, talked with two bulls in car with light bar, heard that train was not in yard, had left Tenino just forty minutes earlier. Hmmm. Maybe I'm not too late.
Moseyed over to Ruston Way (Tacoma waterfront), set up at a location on BNSF property where I frequently munch hamburgers near site of former McCarver Street station while waiting for mainline action, rear view mirror pointed toward Point Defiance, front of vehicle ready to roar out of parking lot with no traffic lights in front of me to contend with. Almost swallowed my gum when officer on motorcycle eased by me to patrol parking lot, but never gave me a glance. Whew! Steadfastly held position as more and more johnny-come-lately railfans tried to squeeze into my spot or in front of me but couldn't without blocking entrance to parking lot. Ha! Strategy.
After ten minutes heard 4449's mellow whistle coming fast, cranked up the Honda, watched headlight rush forward in rear view mirror, rapidly lowered both front windows, waited til train was on me whistles echoing, exhausts roaring, tore out of parking lot "Entrance Only" onto Ruston Way ahead of competing traffic held back by the traffic light BEHIND me, immediately found myself beside and maybe thirty feet away from engineer's side of 4449, exchanged greetings with Mr Doyle--who seemed fatigued but still alert and professional--at the throttle, paced train for next mile or so fading back to 844 then gunning ahead to 4449 as I chose, could actually feel the heat from first one firebox then the other as I moved to be directly along side one or the other.
Zipped up the overpass bridge just below old NP headquarters building, watched locomotives pass directly beneath me with huge but clean white shrouds of steam passing up through the railings, coasted down ramp onto Dock Street now on fireman's side, enjoyed pacing directly with the locomotive drivers now maybe twenty five feet away from my window, could hear every hiss, hum, siderod clank, snifting valve, generator whine, and--I swear--the fireman clearing his throat. Almost hypnotized myself staring at rotating white stars painted in center of each 844 axle end. Slowed down as both engineers braked for UP junction, then A street crossing and held my position at crossing gate as entire train paraded in front of my car now twelve feet away from the fireboxes flickering past the front bumper of my mini SUV. Pulled my elbows into car interior to avoid frantic railfans slamming past my fenders headed--little did they know--toward a dead end at D Street currently under reconstruction. Har! Waited for last of seventeen cars or so to pass, then zipped up to Puyallup highway while train made five minute station stop at Amshack in Tacoma, set up again after a nifty U turn--across four lanes of Saturday night revelers headed for the casino--at Puyallup River bridge crossing at west end of UP yard. Can't wait to tell about that maneuver to my brother who actually does race in demolition derbies in Southern California (points leader last year in something-stock).
Within five minutes mightily enjoyed sight of oncoming train glistening in late afternoon sunbeams, proceeding one rail length at a time through interlocking plant at Reservation and barking up grade to bridge approaches at a stately and steady four miles per hour. Marveled at automobile drivers clueless about goings-on, wondering what all the holdup in traffic might be about, hardly glancing at locomotives while crazed railfans spin gravel and tear up scotch bloom crossing medians, bumping over curbs, running red lights. Shocking. Went home happier than clam at high tide. Nope, didn't take a single picture. Been there, done that in my youth. Just enjoyed some images burned into my head pan that I'll never forget. Secretly compared myself with the great John Allen who refused to bring a camera to railroad field trips. Amazing! Took tremendous satisfaction in knowing that I might have shafted several professional videographers who wanted to pace directly alongside locomotives but didn't know how to park ahead of, not behind traffic lights. Sort of evens the score for all the times I've set up with three cameras at a choice crossing on a big outing only to have several professional production outfits roar up and jump out of their vans directly in front of my lenses. It was a nice way to spend a late afternoon. And I didn't even have to stand up my nieces and sisters. See what clean living does for you? Always honor your promises to your sisters and your nieces first, and the railfan gods will favor you every time. And even if they don't it's the right thing to do! Jim here..