"Don't you ever get tired of that"?
And, then there's the slightly belittling, smirking laugh.
I know from where it all comes.
As Alice Cooper once said, "...listen baby you really wouldn't understand".
So, with my knowing, self gratifying grin attached, I headed out into the world to touch base with those places from where the source of the grins resides, places that are ignored by others as much as possible. Places that are seen as"necessary scars", some of the time, and as "just scars", most of the time.
The pictures, for the most part, tell no tale. That's my job. I accidentally wrote "joy".
That was probably a Freudian slip and as most FS's are ..... the truth.
The story starts as a thirsty BNSF engine sat facing east.
Arriving from the west.
I would not see them together until later.
Two L&DRR diesels readied for the return trip to New Iberia.
I'm "proofing" this write, and it, at this point, is looking at the can. Maybe it will get better.
I've often thought about topping each rail ballast mound with pink stove top hats.
My mind is wandering. Sorry. At least for me it's getting better.
I was headed to Crowley, a "there again" place.
There again.
Folks go out of state on vacation. That escapes me. Much does, possibly the reason I don't go out of state.
I'd head north, following the Great Plains route to Eunice.
Though not a hill in most's view, it is. It is the slope coming out of the Coastal Plain on which Crowley, and
the road beneath this point, sits.
The boundary between the Coastal Plain and the "Cajun Prairie" is either of the two names found below.
They join to create that muddy water.
Which name is retained ... is a mystery.
Is it a Ditch or a Gully? The Gully is more "inline".
I once followed ditches and gullies, bayous and river.
Some things you can't shake if they make you grin.
And why would you if you were a Monkey ..
I had to stop at the Maxie Depot.
Monkey see ...
Monkey do ...
You don't go up or down La.Hwy 13 without going by Mowatta.
The suspense builds.
Skipping 2 more suspenseful pictures ....
This is an old "rail" crane.
It has been there a long time.
I'm thinking about making an offer.
The high plains await as the rails leave this oasis. (Mowata .... more water)
If asked.
Eunice is Eunice. The old Santa Fe tug has had the misfortune of dying there.
I've learned to hold down the non objective adjectives to a minimum.
But, it's killing me.
Little Greenie is theAKDN trans-Eunice to Crowley tug.
At Eunice, AKDN exchanges with the Union Pacific RR.
I remember when Little Greenie was pulled in from the west.
This is the exchange yard east entrance.
At Opelousas, SLIX is rebuilding an old rig, possibly one of the Canadian Pacific engines that was drug in?
They now belong to a rent company. The colors work for that possibility.
SILX is a movie, a very slow moving one, but the scenes do change.
I do believe that the two hulk cabs are the original AKDN 101 and 102. Wonder what happened in those cabs to make them "kept". Some people keep old cars "for the memories".
I keep them cause I can't sell 'em. Maybe too much happened in them?
2 Canadians awaiting the spa.
Getting to the rock industry spur from the west was a hassle, so UP put in an exit ramp from the west onto the old Texas & Pacific rails that go out to SILX and the AKDN offices.
The most horrible road in the world has been resurfaced.
Below is Grolee, one of the main streets going into Opelousas.
Tanks were abandoned trying to traverse this minefield.
This is the US190 U-turn.
It seems I may have written this up before.
Please do not write and tell me I did.
I've been away a while and much has passed between then and now.
Oh, this is the dead battery ride. OK.
The next logical place to go was Port Barre. If in need of logic, go to Port Barre.
The little local was sitting in the PB Yard.
I've seen it sit for a long time.
This is really getting slow and I'm ready to can it. Just give me the word.
It would be headed to Kinder.
I went to Bayou Courtableau and my bike would not restart.
A railroad guy gave me a jump and I made it home.
End of that story, but another awaits.
It's a little bit better. Better is only better and coming from the one above, better may not help.
Here we go ...
I was out shopping for reclaimed cypress.
No, please to not send offers to sell cypress.
When who should come by waving at me like a long lost cousin but John driving Mz Utah.
Wait, is that a wave? John?
You do understand that orange engine is being drug backwards by the powerful Mz Utah!!!.
Yea, he knew he was on TV and doing that Mr. Professional Looking Right Railroader pose. Got the bad to the bone dark sunglasses nothin' girls like better than a well dressed man stylin' going on.
Yea, you right, man.
Yep, the cars were slowing down to check her out. John probably thought it was him. He like that.
They approached a trestle.
Next, would be the Cypress Bayou Trestle.
It is rather high and is part of the incline up to the level of the Cajun Prairie, previously mentioned.
See the smoke? Either she's working or John and his brakeman are playing Cheech & Chong?
Somehow, despite the traffic and bad luck stoplights,
I caught the dragged engine going into the Lafayette Yard.
I circled around in time to catch her going in. The mainline is in the foreground.
Chong exited to do the switch after staring at it for 15 minutes.
Then, I looked down the road to where I wanted to be.
Someone was being given a ticket for inverted parking.
The driver was sitting on the mainline still texting.
I am not kidding.
The hump is where there was a spur to the Lafayette Utilities property.
I can't explain it.
Inverted parking or not, Mz Utah, John and Chong would be a while.
I heard John on the radio requesting a pass back to New Iberia.
He was told to lay low until Mz Sunset got on by.
I think "Taint a thing", barely heard under the Latino boom boom box, was his reply.
He and Chong would just cool it while the engine in drag pushed cars around.
I ain't got no nobody boomed.
I crossed over the yard and headed back to New Iberia.
It had been a while since I tried shooting the passenger train.
The yard was cleaned out, almost.
Four L& D tugs sat at the office. They don't have any personality being 1710, 1709, 1708, 1712.
I reflected
Well, my name is a number, a piece of plastic film.
Yes, I'm a 2,000 man .... and my kids don't understand me at all.
Well my wife still respects me, I really misused her
I am having an affair with a Bar-Dell-O computer.
Don't you know I'm a 2,000 man,
And no one understands me at all.
Sorry, kids.
Now for a bit of sadness because in this world, it happens.
Mz. Allegheny remains, her fate seems to be in the balance.
Her siblings, painted in the hideous orange and left nameless, have no balance.
I hope that song is playing because this is what it is all about.
1501 is gone, 1503 is dying as is 1513.
I had timed my visit to Dr.Frankenstein's well and returned to hear the horns.
That is about it as my pictures stunk the big one.
73 & No. 9. Number 9, Number 9 ... Where's that joint? .... Soda Wat Ta ....
I just had a panic attack.
I thought there were two trains, one track.
Hey ... Look here.
"Why don't you do something else"?
"Don't you ever get tired of that"?
Yea, but it's a monkey ... and I'm a monkey man.
