UNTITLED

The title of this one is not original. 

With nothing much new happening on this blog, I've decided to weigh down its lacking substance with innovative titles.  Not seeing much future in that, I've made up my mind  to steal names from some of my favorite lp record albums of the past. "Untitled" is one of them. It was  by the Byrds. The high point on the album was a full side (remember it's a record) of "Eight Miles High" or about 22 minutes.  At the culmination of this ride, that is exactly where I was, but it took a a bit longer to get to that place.

I know this Mexican TV dinner I'm eating right now is going to assist me in conveying the story of my trip. Just the aroma is levitating. Look, if you feel at all skittish about full bore excitement, get off right now, because it is about to get manic.

 I was off for 8:00 am. That's "manic", told you so.
I had heard the morning rush hour traffic go quiet 

and hit the road.

Yes, I was off to Cade again, but this time I didn't care about trains, honest.  I've been cooped up with the weather and babysitting dogs for 2 weeks, maybe 3, hell, forever and they are
in various stages of "potty trained". Urg, especially the 100 lb. one.

That is why you haven't heard from me. 

Nothing was happening at Cade.

I could have stayed home with the dogs, Petunia, Spirit and Maggie.

 Monday must be "maintenance day" on the railroad.

 I guess they are fixing everything that got broken over the weekend.

Been there, done that, especially on Doucet Road.

 This shot is entitled,  "Ducks in a Row".

A conversation with Mark helped spawned the name.

 Yes, New Iberia. I know, I need to get a life.

But,  I was homesick for my places. I stopped at Burleigh Road.

It parallels the rails to the Enterprise Sugar Refinery.

 Out of habit I shot the junction.

 Mark had heard that there had been a considerable 

amount of work done on the mill's rails. I didn't feel like 

riding into the mill. From the US 90 service road, I 

couldn't see much. In an earlier life, I would have ridden in.

 At Baldwin, tankers were lined up on the L&D rails to Cypremort.

 These 4 hopper cars were full of limestone ballast.

for the rail bed.  "Southern" was painted on the sides

of 3 of them. "Norfolk Southern" was on the fourth.

"Southern" is half of the name "Norfolk Southern",

if that hadn't jumped out and grabbed  you.

 No one was at the Baldwin L&D RR office.

Why should they be, the rails were all tied up

with maintenance work.

 The container, now used by L&D, is marked, 

"Southern Pacific", a name from the past.

 I figured you wanted to look at those hoppers in a better light.

OK, just 2 of them were marked "Southern".

 At Bayou Sale, the pumps were running.

Water was boiling out into the bayou.

This spot was dammed during the 2011 flood.

We've gotten a lot of rain lately.

 That's the pump house.

 There comes a time in each story when it's time to fess up.

Honest, I had decided to intercept the west bound Amtrak, The Sunset Limited.

These maintenance guys had to get out of the way and they were way too fussy about it.

For some reason I thought I had time to make it to the Wax Lake Bridge, a favorite place

that I have not been able to visit for a long time.  There was quite a Civil War skirmish there.

 There would be many practice shots as it was taking

forever for that train to arrive.

One of the most exciting plays in football is the "interception". 

This is that play in train chasing.

I know these writes are as boring as molasses dripping on a cold morning.
I can only try to convey the excitement by making analogies such as the one above.

After the interception, it's time to run with the ball. Alright, are you getting it, YET?

 The train was going slow so I tore out after it.

I hit the thruway and did 70, 10mph faster than

its top speed locally. 

I thought I'd beaten it to Hwy 317.

I seemed to have had a lead on it and proceeded to the 

Bayou Sale siding. There were red lights on.

Had something happened?  

If I moved it would get by me. That rabbit is pretty sly and quiet.

 I had this artsy picture all lined up.

 Looking down the road, I saw a Louisiana rain wall approaching.

I would move under the bridge and forgo my artsy shot.

 It was moving quickly.

Note the end of the distance between the sugarcane and the wall.

 This would work fine.

The side track is the one to the immediate left.

The main comes trough the left opening and is 

behind the first row of bridge supports.

 I gave up and rode back  toward La.317.

Notice the standing water.

 Much time had passed and it seems so had the train.

I stopped south of New Iberia and ate a sandwich.

I had been monitoring a Norfolk Southern train on the radio, but 

had no idea it was so close.

 I had been burned by the  Sunset getting past me

and had lost interest, well some, well most. 

I've stopped here for years and watched the old house fall down.

I was identifying with it and becoming a bit melancholic.

Then I 
 kicked the 650 into gear and took out after the fleeing freight.

I don't do melancholy well. It is the cancer of emotions.

A sure cure for it is a throttle.  Any damn throttle, just nail it.

There's nothing like being in command of time and space.

I caught the train in downtown New Iberia.

A catch is only a catch. The chase was only getting "close".

 I caught the engines near the Lafayette airport.

 Catching it was a gradual undertaking.

 Then it slowed.

Could I make it to Alligator Point?

 I did beat it and had time to set up. 

The camera went dead and stole my trophy. I was hacked.

The train hadn't made it to the yard yet and this chase was not over.

Half way down the yard the sky fell ..... hard.

 I knew I'd get soaked. So what.

I bought the little waterproof camera for this purpose.

I knew where I was going so the lack of actually seeing the road didn't matter.

This was going to be cool.

She was sitting down in that fog.

She had hit a stop light. 

That's fair, I'd hit about 20 of them.

It was hard seeing the viewing screen, so

I could only estimate where the train was.

 I guess that was "spiking the ball".  Yea it was. If there had been a telephone in the goal post,
I would have called home like Joe Horn.

That's it. Who says you "Can't get no Satisfaction"?

Happy Anniversary to the  Rolling Stones.

Mark, the turn signals came out great, thanks.

Today's quiz: Identify this town in the 

1917 map below. Hint. The railroad is the Franklin and Abbeville.

I, of course, never knew it, but I did know this couple

that lived at the end of that northern spur.

They probably didn't realize it, but their house

was next to the ghost of the  depot.

Possibly the choice of the "Untitled" title came from that epiphany.

Maybe not.  I'll leave it at that.

 I have no idea where I nabbed this, but it's suitable for framing.
Jim, is that something you gave me?