Having done my required chores and looking mildly
respectable, I decided to take the short route and see
what I could drag up. I knew the Amtrak passenger
train was coming through mid to late afternoon and I
always like to stand on the side of the tracks and wave
to the tourist doing my best village idiot act which is not
a stretch. I also take a few pictures if the camera is not
acting up. Like all of my possessions it has taken on a
foul personality. Why?
To begin, I'd ridden through New Iberia. A couple of
guys were fooling with a switch. That game won't
hold you in the bleachers for too many innings. A
policeman told the other guy, who was in a car, to
move on. Again I congratulated myself for being on the
unobtrusive motorbike and keeping a low profile
while sitting upright and appearing sober and alert,
something my fellow fan was possibly not.
Nevertheless, these guys fooled with that switch way too
long. I think one was teaching the other, a slow learner.
I checked the time and I figured I'd rendezvous with
the Amtrak somewhere down the line but I'd go
no further than Jeanerette as I've been that way
far to often lately and it was getting late.
On the south side of town I was thrown off course
by the appearance of one of the tugs bringing in
a load from Bayou Sale, I'd guess. I saw him
coming and knew that I could not stay with him
through town, so I turned into a business parking
lot. It turned out to be a bowling alley. I didn't
know New Iberia had a big bowling alley.
I accepted this spot because the backdrop was
an old warehouse which gave the mix of old and
new which I've grown to appreciate.
My first sighting.
Having established a bunker, I began to shoot. This was
the best of the lot.
I had heard on the radio, while in the bunker, someone say
"mop" which I think is slang for Missouri Pacific. That is
what trainers call the branch that goes out to the new (and old)
sugar mill. Again, knowing that I could not compete with
this train in downtown traffic, I rode old 90 through town
and set up between the two lanes where the old MP
line crosses the road. He was just making the turn off
the main BNSF line to Lafayette onto the MP branch.
The cause of most train/vehicle accidents is either being
a dumb vehicle driver or having a cavalier attitude,
which is a subset of dumb.
Yea, he made it. What is the old saying, " God protects
drunks and yoyos." That may be the reason for my
longivity, qualifying for one or both in the past.
We have the best cemeteries in the world. That may be
a rarely uttered statement, but it's true and we should
brag. It is not often you can combine cemetery photography
with train photography. When you have the chance you have
to jump on it. Yep, here she came at lightning speed.
Actually, her speed did pick up passing the cemetery.
That's an old Southern tradition if you didn't know.
Having negotiated the cemetery and running through the shoot,
which I didn't have time to capture, she was off to the mill.
The following are "hot pursuit pictures". They depict a
professional doing his job. Do not attempt to replicate
without proper training.
Hey George, do y'all have a course in train chasing?
I might like to take it as my skills are way low.
I included the windshield in the pictures to assure authenticity
and to bring you onboard, if only for a moment.
I'm glad my camera doesn't have a cellphone in it or I could
have gotten busted. After swerving a few times and almost
headonning a cow, I decided to pull over.
You can tell he'd picked up speed.
At this point, having recently done the rest of the trip
to the mill, and looking at the time, I decided I'd better
get out on US 90 and try to meet the Amtrak as I know
I have become a local attraction and did not want to
disappoint.
A side note: I'm old. Another: When I got to go, I got to go.
Thusly, in my travels I have mentally marked places that
facilitate "going". One is the recreation center at Jeanerette.
It has a lovely, well kept port a potty. I stepped in and
then heard the horn. Rushing out, I located the source and
shot wildly, gleaming this ghostly vision of the train passing
behind and to the rear of the facility. That's it getting ready
to hit the oak tree.
Then I thought I'd try to end run the train to above New
Iberia. I got to US 90 and of course, no train. I then slowly
rode on into Lafayette where I'd go east on home.
Later I'd find out Amtrak had sprung a leak and was dripping
diesel fuel on the tracks and was STOPPED in New Iberia.
At least that is what I've gleamed from listening to the radio.
I could have gotten paid for shots of that. Oh well, I moved
on to the Lafayette hot spots. Sure enough, fresh from a
visit to Breaux Bridge, there she was, sleeping on the BR
Branch, one of the Louisiana and Delta's many branches.
I turned around and shot the "BR Jct." sign for the 40th
time.
I crossed the tracks and took this one from the alley. I think
it's better, but that's me.
After leaving, I headed on home by way of Lake Martin.
Mercy that is a beautiful place. More later, maybe with
those pictures if I get up the energy.