hen you die and Saint Peter says to you, “Hey, when were you happiest down there?” You’re gonna say, “Well, it was okay the day I got married, and I didn’t much mind the day I first fell in love. But seein’ the sky with the Great Waldo Pepper, that beats ’em all.”

-The Great Waldo Pepper (1975)

Personally, my own end-life reflections would turn to all the many moments model trains and their operations have given me. There have been soaring successes and comical pratfalls. And here’s a new one:

I’m standing out in the back yard of Ken & Bev’s home, pushed up against the back wall of their house under the roof overhang. It’s raining steadily. I’ve got a coke (diet) in one hand and a cookie (not so much) in my other. I’m just watching the rain come down into the nursery behind their house, just reflecting.

The author working the Pinetta Sheds while “Professor” Brown silently wonders how badly it can be done. (Photo: Zach B)

I just finished 44-1. That’s the Pinettta shed job, working all the various industries along a narrow peninsula in the railroad room. An earlier train had dropped a line of cars, pretty much boxes and reefers, into the central track and my job was to pull cars ready to ship and replace them with inbounds .Those outbounds needed to be ready for the evening outbound train.

My earlier two runs had been pretty basic; I crewed up a train in Frontenac and ran it home, greens all the way. The next was a step up – a ballast MOW job stationed over in City Point, which I pulled, worked in Frontenac (again), reversed the train’s direction (thankfully, the dispatcher inadvertently dropped a hint which kept me for asking for a green board out and getting it behind the caboose). Easy but, since I’m usually in the DS seat, it’s fun. I forget how much I enjoy casual operations.

And then the shed-shifter.

It was really a fun little puzzle, figuring out how to pull the outbounds, get them out of the way and move in the inbounds. Zach and I were sharing aisle-space and then I saw Jack bringing 940 over to work Eau Gallie’s limestone loaders in the small of my back, well, now it was… cozy. I could have shifted to the other side of the peninsula but (a) I was already comfortable, (b) the track-map was aligned for that position, and (C) Chip and a newbie were making a circus at Cocoa Yard – I didn’t even want to stand close to them in case Ken was watching on the monitors (and he must have, since they blocked the mainline for scale hours (like Chip did for me last time I dispatched)).

Life in Shed HQ, where Kyle trims everything he can reach (Photo; Kyle S)

Anyway, I’d finished that job and gone over to the other shed (the yard and control shed) to watch the fun there. My excitement was contagious and Ken didn’t want to catch it so he booted me out into the rain. I had time to kill before my forth and final and so there I was, under the roofline, munching and slurping and smiling.

Yeah, that was fun. The whole day was fun. I know Ken (as owner) was dealing with every little thing. The yardmaster’s com was out of service. A critical turnout in the arrival throat had fallen apart. Chip. Lots of issues.

Wut? (Photo: Zach B)

Watch your step here. Lots of equipment on the move, and the Trim guy doesn’t care (Photo: Kyle S)

Shortly afterwards, I drifted down through the rain, back to the shed, to take my last train. Since it had a bit of work (at supposedly Chip-cleaned Cocoa yard), I made my way there. Got in, found a nice stub track to do my set outs. The yard was still pretty full, but oddly there wasn’t a single car card in the slots. I nosed around a bit (looking into the other full slots for cards already dropped and locals already built) and found a bunch. I didn’t have time to recard the entire yard to see if it was correct (refer to: Chip, Yard, Delay) and so I mentioned it as I rolled out of the yard and into the helix. I was two loops down when suddenly here comes Chip with three pickups – for cars he’d dropped yet left in his train packet in the run-box. He asked me to come back and pick them up (since Ken would note the short return and question it). Since I was already well on my way, and wanted to make him look bad (as long as someone goofs up more than me, I’ll probably get invited back) and so I refused. When I got in, I reported to Ken what happened (i.e. threw Chip under the train) and wrote my time out. Good day.

I always say this – the host always sees everything that goes wrong. In his eyes, the session was a nightmare failure. But for me, I only had some minor issues – really only an engine that twice dropped its truck into the cinders and, of course, Chip. I think everyone had maybe an issue or two. That means good runs for everyone who attended, and psychiatric sessions for Ken.

Sadly, the owners are “Dunkirking” their next session (meaning they are escaping a looming disaster by evacuating to sea, mainly a cruise ship). Be that as it may, but, to continue the World War Two analogy, “We will return!”

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P.S. Seriously, Chip and I are good friends. Well, maybe not from his aspect anymore…

Four trains lined up to leave the division, two top, two bottom, and I’m waiting to come out. Nobody asked the HQ shed crew what that was about (Photo: Zach B)