On the Track to Adventure

Thought for the day:  Warning: the light at the end of the tunnel might be an oncoming train. 

[source: morguefile]

We saw plenty of trains last Saturday, but thank goodness, not a single one of them was coming at us through a tunnel. They were all sitting still, and on display at the Southeastern Railway Museum, which also happened to be hosting a bunch of antique trucks and tractors that day. AND we could climb up and walk through most of those old trains! Cool, huh? There's something romantic about the notion of traveling by train. Not the bazillion miles per hour bullet trains of today, but the old, slower-moving, steam-spewing trains with the fellow in the back waving a lantern from the caboose.

Since y'all couldn't join us that day, how about the next best thing... pictures? With, um , just a few words thrown in by me, of course...

There were quite a few steam locomotives there, but I won't bore you by showing you pictures of all of them. I'll just bore you by showing you a picture of one of them. This is the General II, which looks identical to the more famous General of Civil War fame, which is located at another museum in Kennesaw, Georgia.

The time will come when people will travel in stages moved by steam engine from one city to another, almost as fast as birds can fly, fifteen or twenty miles per hour...  [Oliver Evans, 1800] I wonder what this pioneer of steam engines would think about today's much-faster-than-a-bird speeds of travel.

There were also a number of steam-powered tractors there. Those things are HUGE!

This is an overview of one of the kitchens on a military train used from approximately the twenties until the forties.

What was that old saying from the Civil War? Something about the Army traveling on its stomach... 

And the other one... something about military food being the real spoils of war...?

Okay, so maybe the emphasis in cooking for the troops was more on quantity than quality. This 16-burner coal stove could sure handle the quantity part quite well. Can you imagine how hot it must have been in that train car when the cooking was going full steam ahead?

Yeah, these signs about humping always crack me up, too. (I wonder if there are also signs that say something like, Please hump here.)

In case you're wondering what it means to hump in railroad lingo, that's when an engine pushes a car, or block of cars, up a man-made hill... which is called a hump... so at the top, gravity can take over. The car(s) then go down the other side of the hill, and are easily shunted to the proper track and/or resting place.

Although that hump sign doesn't have anything to do with what consenting adults can do aboard a train, there have been a number of laws over the years aimed at regulating human behavior while riding the rails. For example, in Wisconsin, it was once illegal for people to kiss on a train, and in Seattle, Washington, if a woman dared to sit on a man's lap without placing a pillow between them, she would automatically face six months in the slammer. A bit harsh, don't you think? But this was even worse: in Alabama, putting salt on a train track was once punishable by death! Rhode Island was a bit more merciful; throwing pickle juice at a trolley was only a misdemeanor. In Chicago, Illinois, a law prohibited eating in a place that was on fire, but after considerable discussion, an amendment was added to that law in 1912, making it permissible to eat while in a steam train's dining car. Ready for my favorite? In Texas, an old law dictated that when two trains met at a railroad crossing, each had to come to a full stop, and neither could proceed until the other one had gone. (Huh?)

[source: morguefile]

Time for a joke:

Two somewhat inebriated fellas were having a very difficult time walking uphill on a railroad track.

Between huffs and puffs, the first one said, "This is the longest staircase I've ever seen."

The other replied, "The stairs aren't too bad, but I really hate these low banisters!"

I especially enjoyed going through some of the old Pullman cars. Tell you what, for their day, that must have seemed like luxurious travel. Some of the compartments were fairly spacious. The seats converted into beds, and some of the compartments even had a sink and commode. For family travel, some had an adjoining room with additional beds, usually bunked.

But as I gazed into these compartments with my imagination in overdrive, I couldn't help but remember a story I read some years back:

Mr. Pullman received a letter of complaint from a train passenger regarding a horrific infestation of bed bugs. In return, the passenger received a very nice letter of apology, thanking the man for letting them know about it, and assuring him that the matter would be taken care of immediately. Unfortunately, also in the envelope with that letter of apology was a hand-written note from Pullman to his secretary, advising her to send this SOB the bed bug letter. 

This is a 1915 Harvester, a 4-cylinder, 19 1/2 horsepower, Model F, one-ton truck. It is one of only ninety-nine trucks manufactured by the International Harvester Company in Chicago that year. Notice anything unusual about it? The radiator is located behind the engine.

Those of you who work crossword puzzles have probably come across the old Reo vehicles a time or two. Well, this is a 1912 Reo truck. Trucks like this were often referred to as High Wheelers because of those large wagon-like wheels. No wonder trucks of that vintage were called horseless carriages. 

This early fire truck makes it pretty obvious how much of a challenge it used to be to put out any large fires. Looking at the fire hoses and pump assembly, it was a very physically challenging job, as well.




Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.  [Will Rogers]


Okay, I don't know if this blog post is on the right track or not, but I'm not gonna just sit here. Time to go. That's right.

                                                             This is... THE END.

                                     Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

A Wonderful Weekend in Europe

Thought for the day:  Sartre went into a French cafe and asked for a cup of coffee without cream. The waitress said, "I'm sorry, monsieur, but we're out of cream. May I bring it to you without milk?"

No, Smarticus and I didn't go to France to celebrate our anniversary. It was more like... Germany. (NOT Germany, but kinda like it...)

Where we went was to the delightful alpine village of Helen, which is located in north Georgia. It's about all kinda things German: architecture, beer, food, clothing, beer, shops, music, more beer. Lots of flowers. Lots of walking. Lots of fun.

We got up there too early to check into the hotel, so we visited a place called Duke's Creek, a rock and gem grubbing place just outside of town. It's a little different from the places where we panned for gold and gems last year, because the owner laces the buckets of grubbing dirt with goodies he dug up in other states. In the picture is my favorite find: a hunk of turquoise as big as my hand, which he brought home from an Arizona dig.

Oh, by the way, she said breezily, we had lunch in Munich. Okay, okay, okay, so if ya want to be strictly technical about it, we went to Helen's version of Munich's famous Hofbrauhaus. A verrrrry neat place.

The sign over the front and side entrances says Gateway to Europe. Feels like it, too, when you walk inside. Lots of gorgeous dark woods, artwork and old photographs.

Check out this cool mural that's on the side of the restaurant.

Now, I wouldn't be me if I failed to show you this next picture...

This sign totally cracked me up. Know why? It was pointing the way to the... bathroom. (Ya gotta love the German language.)

Our table overlooked the river, where a couple fishermen in waders were trying (rather foolishly, I might add) to share the shallow water with a steady stream of rafters. Very entertaining! We even saw a dog  floating down the river in his very own tethered raft.  Oh, and of course, the food was yummy, especially the potato salad. (German, of course!) Alas, we were too full to sample the straight-from-Munich homemade apple strudel.

I didn't take this picture. It's courtesy of Wikimedia, and was obviously taken in December. But it gives you an idea of what some of the shop exteriors look like. There's all kinds of shops on a labyrinth of streets. Lots of musicians scattered here and there, too, but the music wasn't overpowering, and didn't overlap, even when the musicians were fairly close together. And very little of the music was of the oom-pa-pa variety. (I suspect tubas... and costumes... may be more prevalent during Oktoberfest.)

This sweet little Alana Falls and garden were located in a park at the side of the road. Lots of gardens and potted flowers abound in the village, making for a very picturesque ambiance. Plenty of benches scattered around, too, thank goodness, because we did a LOT of walking. (And resting.)

This is part of a mural painted on the exterior wall of a place called Charlemagne's Kingdom. Inside, the exhibit hall contains a massive HO gauge train layout, depicting Germany from the North Sea to the Alps.

No one photograph can fully capture the size and intricacy of this creation. Painstakingly built by owner Will Lindhorst, who came to the United States from Oldenburg, Germany in 1963, the layout measures twenty by fifty feet, and contains four hundred feet of railroad tracks. All the buildings are allegedly modeled after actual buildings in Germany, and there are 5000 hand-painted figures, hot air balloon, a three-ring circus, and just about everything else you can imagine.

Here's a better shot of the hot air balloons when they "floated" closer to where we were standing. Cool, huh? There were some other bits of whimsy here and there, too. Like a spiffy dragon beside an impressive castle on the side of the mountain.

Oh, and a couple of saucer-shaped UFOs, too. See them? One is in the air... and the other, crashed into the mountain, is engulfed in a ball of flame and smoke. I have a feeling Herr Lindhorst had a lot of fun creating his Kingdom, don't you? We sure had fun looking at it.

Here's a shot of some of the rafters coming down the river through town. Most of the groupings of rafts are actually tied together. For safety, I guess, although the water appears to be quite shallow.

This is what I had for dinner on our anniversary. ( I MEANT to take a picture of it as soon as the server brought it to me, but, um, I forgot.)  Anyhow, it's sauerbraten, a big half-eaten (erp) potato dumpling, and red cabbage. Very good. Our other option that evening was to go to a big Bavarian fest that was taking place, but since I don't drink beer, and Smarticus enjoyed a little too much of it the night before, we decided this lovely little restaurant was more to our liking. If I remember right, it was called Bodensee. Something like that... it's named after a river in Germany.

Smarticus opted for a wurst sampler platter... with sauerkraut and fried potatoes. It must have been very good. When I was taking a picture of it, he said oh-so-lovingly... Every hog to its own trough! HA! (I tell ya, such romance.)

Alas, once again, we had no room left for dessert. With such a mouth-watering selection of  decadent desserts offered in every restaurant, it's hard to believe we didn't sample a single one of them. Or any of the homemade candy and pastries offered in the shops, either. Oh well. Maybe next time. (Next time, I think I'll start with dessert.)

On the way home, we stopped at this antique mall just outside Helen. The house it's in is the oldest  in the county. (circa 1874, or so) Just look at those porches! The original wood floor inside is in surprisingly good condition, and every single room on every single floor is packed with wonderful, glorious antiques and collectibles. Decent prices, too!


All in all, it was a wunderbar way to get away from it all for a few days. Ya know, our wedding may have taken place over forty-five years ago, but the celebration ain't over yet. And I hope it never is.

Oh, two things I'd like to tell you before I go. One, I read an OUTSTANDING book of poetry that I think you might enjoy, too. It was written by fellow blogger Joanne Faries, and is called Wordsplash Poetry Puddle: Hazy Memory. She sure knows how to tap into familiar memories most of us share. I highly recommend it. You can get it on Amazon. She has a couple other poetry books there, too, but I haven't read them. Yet.

Second, Screwing Up Alexandria, Connie Keller's latest book in her Screwing Up Time series was released a couple days ago. I bought it, but haven't read it yet. Judging by her first two books, I'm sure to love this one, too. It's a YA time-travel through history kinda book suitable for all ages. Some humor, great sense of history, and lots of fun.

                                         Talking about fun, y'all have a great weekend!

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

All Aboard!!!

Thought for the day:  I didn't get a toy train like the other kids. I got a toy subway instead. You couldn't see anything, but every now and then you'd hear this rumbling noise go by.  [Stephen Wright]

Do you like trains? I've always had kind of a thing for them, whether it be the real thing, the authentic to-scale workable steam engines a friend of ours builds, or the fantasy world of model trains.

Not far from my grandmother's house was an old-fashioned train crossing, the kind with a little bitty building sheltering an honest-to-goodness man, who'd emerge with his little red flag to stop traffic (all one of us) whenever a train was coming. He always waved and smiled at us, and sometimes there'd be another smiling, waving man standing out back of the  little red caboose, too, with a lantern in his hand.

Romanticized memories of lying in bed listening to the haunting sound of train whistles through my grandmother's open windows at night caused me to later suffer a severe case of temporary insanity, during which I thought it would be a swell idea to rent an apartment right next to some train tracks. Suffice it to say the BANG! CRASH! BOOM! steel-laden freight trains from Bethlehem Steel passing by around the clock, causing  mini-earthquakes in our apartment wasn't particularly romantic.

Anyway, not long ago, my husband asked me if I'd like to go to a train show. Not the box cars like we both used to climb on and jump (shhhh!) when we were kids, but model trains. All kinds of model trains.

          Well, heck yeah.

In addition to various gauge models, there were also a bunch of lanterns, the kind I remember those men holding on the cabooses so long ago. And there were sets of dishes from some of the old passenger trains. Lots of neat stuff to look at, especially all the model trains winding through their miniature pretend worlds.

Here's an overview of one of the set-ups.

A horse race! Isn't this the cutest thing?

OOOH! A farm!

A shooting gallery, part of a carnival 

Bumper cars, anyone?

The guy loading the coal car was having entirely too much fun.

The show included all kinds of neat displays (like a BUNCH of carnival rides) with movable parts, flashing lights, sounds, and some buildings so detailed, they looked like someone had zapped the real thing with a sci-fi shrink ray. Check out the details in this general store:

There were tiny gas stations with cars up on a lift, car shows, factories, water towers, a produce stand, diners and even a McDonald's. Lots of intricate details and bits of whimsy. If you've never been to a model train show and have the opportunity to attend, I highly recommend it. Take the kids and/or grandkids, too. (Children get in for FREE!)

Did you have (or do you still have) model trains? When I was a kid, a number of the fire departments in and around Baltimore set up an enormous Christmas Garden in one of their bays every year. Did the firehouses in your area do that, too? The Dundalk Fire Department, where I used to be mesmerized, stopped doing their Garden in 1978, but another fire department in the area took it over. This is a shot of the new garden. Looks just as magical.

I even found some cool videos taken at the new garden. Here's one of them. Hope you enjoy it:

Time for a quick railroad story about customer service:

 In 1895, after suffering a bunch of bedbug bites while trying to sleep in a Pullman Palace Car, an irate customer wrote a letter of complaint. Soon after, he received a very nice letter of apology from George Pullman's corresponding secretary, in which she thanked him profusely for alerting them to the problem, and explained how extremely rare bedbug bites were. She assured him the car had been properly fumigated and returned to service. The customer might have been mollified, had it not been for one mistake. The secretary inadvertently included Pullman's handwritten note, which read, Sarah, send this S.O.B. the bedbug letter. 

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Always make sure the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming train.