Whereas our previous trip through the old Route 66 waypoint of Barstow had seen Henry & me chilling—literally—in the high-desert January cold, this time was just the opposite: we delayed our evening foray to the train yard in the face of triple-digit heat that persisted past sundown, and we opted instead of drop by first thing Sunday morning.
Hen of course regaled me with insane amounts of railroading history as we scrambled around old engines and watched innumerable freight trains chug past us. This kid is such a piece of work—and we love him for it. 😌
Here’s a gallery showcasing our spin through history.