Of Tracks and Trains and Old Railroad Ditties by Mark Burgess
Sat, 12/05/2009 - 17:59 — webmaster
Of Tracks and Trains and Old Railroad Ditties This is the second instalment of a story chronicling the HCW Steam Train's return to action last spring. The train made its final run of the season on Oct. 25. The article originally appeared under a different title in the October 28-November 3, 2009 edition of the Low Down to Hull and Back News. You can download it at: www.lowdownonline.com. Of all the steam train's little bothers, the overall-ed minstrels rated at the top of my list all summer. The zombie cargo I could forgive – less venerable vehicles transport crankier zombies everywhere on the planet. The bells and whistles could be overdone, particularly on gloomy Sunday mornings when there wasn't anything worthwhile to celebrate nor to be reminded of, but they were still bells and whistles, after all.No, the overall-ed minstrels are what I couldn't forgive. They strummed their instruments for the 90-minute journey, boisterously spun the train to more applause, and then continued playing out in the park as the zombies ambled back to the call of two urgent hoots. Just where did they get all that enthusiasm? They probably bothered me because I knew the answer, having worked jobs that demanded and reinforced a comparable state of delirium. I just never had to sing. In any case, it doesn't seem uncommon for Wakefielders to harbour their own deep, dark grievances toward what comes in with the train all summer. For some business owners it's a simple commercial grudge – zombies aren’t big shoppers. For some servers it's the midday invasion that causes stomachs to sink and blood pressure to rise when those first warning hoots become audible, and leaves them in a frazzled post-traumatic daze when it's all over. For others it's the zombies' cockeyed expectations. “They treat us like it's Upper Canada Village,” I've been told more than once. Occasionally those grievances are aired in inspired ways. Years ago Marc Ranger, a quality assurance auditor at Transport Canada who lives on Mance Rd, the first street past the turntable, had complained about the train blocking the road and running idly for hours every day, pumping fumes at his house. One day, Ranger was planning an afternoon at the beach. Before he left, clad in his bathing suit and the gas mask he uses for painting, Ranger took a casual stroll through the zombies in alarming but silent protest. “It was just to make the point of how stinky the train is,” he said. Things have improved since then. Ranger said a hydro pole was installed this summer for the coaches' generators to plug into so they don't have to keep running while the train is at rest. They hadn't started using it yet but he's hopeful for next year. He also said the safety of the Mance Road crossing has improved after some close calls in past years.“I like the train,” Ranger said, even if he wasn't first in line to cheer its return. “I'm a mechanic – I like planes, trains, cars, boats, all these things.” He just wishes he didn't have to smell it. I like the train too, and my ride on Oct. 17 for the train's penultimate weekend, sitting opposite elderly couple John and Adele, is thoroughly enjoyable until the overall-ed minstrels burst into the Gatineau car. We're the last seat, too, so they nestle in directly behind John and Adele, guitars and mini-banjo plucked only a few feet from my face. At least John will be able to hear it. It doesn't take me long to soften. They start playing an old railroad ditty to which Adele knows all the words and John hums along periodically, and it seems like just the thing for the journey. I feel rotten for having judged them so harshly out of context and heartily tap my foot. The next day I exit my house to find the same minstrels strumming the same songs with the same dogged enthusiasm and my truce is immediately forgotten. I wonder if I'll miss them over the winter.