Actually it was a lot of moments, more like a coupla hours worth of moments, but you know what I mean.
Okay, so last weekend we've got, miracle of miracles, a hot air balloon flight planned. David, our mentor and pilot and owner and all 'round swell guy wasn't nearly as far south on his job as he'd figured he'd be, and since he'd put in two weeks of 16 hour days doing insurance adjustment work in storm-ravaged areas, and since he had a paying customer...well, David was ready to fly.
So fly we did. Jim and I and VW and Cookie all went out and did the balloon thing, which now that Fall is coming closer is much nicer than it's been as far as sweating goes. We wrapped up the success of the flight with breakfast at Leah's Pie Shop in Lecompte, and since VW and I had planned on some trainspotting afterwards, she got out her flat black brain bucket with the chrome flames on it, hopped on the back of Black Betty and we headed to the local KCS yard in Latainer.
Now, I'll be honest--I was a little worried. Latainer Yard isn't the busiest yard you could imagine. Far from it. It's small and remote and not that heavily trafficked, so I was afraid we'd be let down. Well, I was wrong. Thankfully.
We got there and watched a huge pair of SD70MAC engines, very clean in their KCS grey and red liveries spend about an hour turning two very long consists into a whole yard-full of cars split hither and yon. Even got some VERY cool shots of them working.
We got to talk with a conductor who was out there busily tearing trains into pieces, and he told us that while he broke down these two and turned them into others there were two more due into the yard in the next hour or so. VW and I, being game, stuck around. I'm glad we did. When the pair of MACs were out of the way I'd glance down the southern rails, hoping to see lights. Well, I missed their arrival but when I saw a splash of red, black and yellow I nearly peed myself. Not just any old KCS engines but a pair of Retro Belle SD70ACe's had pulled in, resplendent in their 1940's Southern Belle paint.
I managed to hold my pee long enough to hail the conductor, who told us that it was a recrew layover, and they'd be leaving again in about an hour, or as soon as he got the second consist broken into pieces and his big pair of MACs out of the way.
Well, being true foamers and since we'd each gotten 100+ shots of the grey MACs VW and I drove quickly back through sleets of lovebugs to LSUA to get some liquid refreshment, sit in the shade for a while and then head back at noon thirty for the real party: the exit and river crossing of the pair of Belles.
Like all things involving trains, there was waiting. Trains don't move on a moment's notice, and the pair of Belles and it's dead-heading third engine were no different. The crew arrived. They did paperwork. They were taxied out to the machines. They got onboard and did their checks. They did them again. Finally the crew bell rang and it pulled up.
There it sat while ice was brought on board, luggage was loaded, and the rest of the three-man crew boarded. Then they waited some more. VW waited impatiently, taking photos of the engine, the control house, the rails, flowers, love bugs, each other and our sweat. They ticked. They grumbled. They did all the cool things trains do except move.
But mercifully, finally, before I lost VW to wandering in the adjoining cotton field, our train moved forward.
The main reason we stuck it out? I knew what was ahead. Not just several miles of fairly open track but a bridge. A huge bridge, a concrete and steel arrangement that crosses the Red River from Alexandria into Pineville and thence onto CP Mallin and the diamond that I talk about constantly, and on to Monroe and all points north. My Unicorn Photo was up there, just waiting to be set up.
When I first started foaming well over a year ago I knew of this bridge. This massive white concrete monster with it's miles long lead-up and steel trellis. I knew that if I could catch a train on top of it with the weather right it'd be a shot to be truly proud of. I tried several months ago with the KCS Business train, KCS 1 but was foiled by torrential rains. This time the sky was blue and clear, and nothing shy of a broken leg was going to stop me.
VW and I rode along, with her skillfully balancing herself on the pillion seat of my bike while I did my best to pace the rolling train, watch for traffic and keep the ride steady enough for her to snap photos. HER work can be seen here, including the pacing shots and the shots she took at the bridge setup.
We got about halfway to the bridge site and I broke off, knowing full well soon he'd be doing 60mph and we still had to get set up, so we hauled ass. I dropped VW off on the highway with a nice view of the bridge as it arched up behind some houses and across Hwy 1, and I rode on up under the pilings and ran up the levee embankment to set up.
I'd told VW that he ought to be along in about ten minutes. I was off by eight. We had closer to TWO minutes. I had time to gain the top of the levee before I heard his horns sounding as he started the climb up the grade. I changed lenses faster than I ever dreamed I was able and aimed. I had about ten seconds to get the camera aimed and ready, and before I knew it the Belles were on me.
And directly in front of me, the engineer no doubt laughing as he hit two very short blasts on the horns for the crazy guy who had been stalking him for the last hour or so.
And then he was past, rolling steady up toward the steel trellis and across the river and gone into Pineville toward Monroe.
I remember the rest of the ride back to LSUA and home as a sort of golden blur, the way I always feel after achieving a goal. I remember hoping beyond hope that I'd pivoted correctly at the waist, holding the camera straight. I was terrified I'd blurred the shots, had the f/stop wrong, overexposed them, something, anything.
I'm glad I was wrong then, too. Next Unicorn? Beats me, but I'm sure it'll present itself soon enough.