Dunsmuir

Somewhere around 5:30 we stopped in Dunsmuir, which is somewhere in the Cascades. I was up to see it because my joints were acting up enough that I dug around in the dark for day clothes and went out to walk the hallway. (Not bad for it being close to pitch black in here- I wound up with Tony's shirt but still figured it beat my pyjama top.) Dunsmuir yard had one of those turntable thingees for the trains and it was made out of railroad wood. Made me wish I had a real camera- or just my nephew- on this trip. He's the big train nut. I also realized just what it meant to be in the last car, beyond the smoother ride that is. It didn't register last night, but this morning I watched dawn lighten the sky through the rear passageway door. It's the closest I'll ever get to that riding on the caboose fantasy we all have as kids. Besides, I got to see this amazing girder trestle built in 1901 (said so right on the head-rail) as we went across it. Being deep in the Cascades, outside of the towns the railroad track is just a track beaten through the alpine forest. It's awesome scenery. It's less interctive than being on the
bike though. I can remember several times in rain and wind looking over jealously as those trains came blasting through without any deference to the weather. Now I'm not so sure. Sealed windows make for a more aniseptic experience. It's still *really* cool mind you, but you don't get the sheer exhileration of being one with the environment. Then again, if it starts raining, I can sit in the comfort of my cabin and edit the word exhileration into something a little darker.