BACK ON THE TRAIN
“When I
jumped off, I had a bucket full of thoughts
When I first jumped off, I held that bucket in my hand
Ideas that would take me all around the world
I stood and watched the smoke behind the mountain curl
It took me a long time to get back on the train”
From “Back on the
Train” by Phish, lyrics written by Trey Anastasio and
Tom Marshall.
It
was cold Friday morning. We got a lazy
start since our train was scheduled to pick us up at Needleton
at 3:45. It was only a 6-mile hike, and
all downhill, so there was no reason to rush.
Our late start let us wait for the frost to melt from our tents before
packing up.
We
did have the option of trying to catch an earlier train, at 2:45. We would have to flag the train down, and
even if we did, we would only be able to board on a space-available basis. We didn’t have actual seats on the earlier
train, so they could’ve put us anywhere.
All things considered, we decided to just wait for the later train.
The
hike down was peaceful and pleasant. We
followed Needle Creek the whole way. Most of the time we were well above the creek. On a couple of occasions we passed waterfalls
or substantial cascades, but they were always well below us. Getting a better look would’ve required
difficult scrambling and bushwhacking.
It was a bright, sunny day, so photography would’ve been challenging,
anyway.
After
a chilly morning and several days of rain, sleet, and snow, the sunshine was a
welcome change. Although the trail
stayed down in the canyon, the views of the surrounding mountains were lovely. The fall foliage was stellar, too.
The
best colors were down near the river. We
followed the trail out of the wilderness and arrived at a footbridge over the
Animas River. There are some cabins
here, which is interesting, since we were miles from
the nearest road. The owners must use
the train to come and go, or perhaps they hike or ride horses in from highway
550 on the far side of the West Needle Mountains.
Despite
our late start, we reached the railroad tracks in time for a late lunch. Afterwards, I jumped in the river to wash off
8 days of sweat and grime. The river was
incredibly cold, and I’m not sure I accomplished much. The water was very silty,
and I felt just as dirty afterwards.
We
were slightly confused about the correct location to flag the train down. The obvious spot is right at the bridge, but
the correct location is actually about 50 yards up the tracks from there.
We
had some time to kill, so I took a stroll up the railroad tracks along the
river. This little excursion earned me
some nice views of the river as well as the mountains to the east, draped in
their finest fall colors.
The
2:45 train passed by right on time, and we waived as it passed by. Afterwards, J Bob and I decided that Bob J was
the most qualified to flag our train down.
Truthfully, I wanted to get photos of the train coming in, and J Bob
wanted to take a video. That left Bob J
to flag the train down. I made sure to
get plenty of pictures of Bob flagging the train as it pulled in.
We
hoisted our packs into the baggage car and boarded the train. The Conductor led us to our seats. Along the way we passed through one of the
train’s open air cars. As we passed
through, the Conductor casually mentioned that there were plenty of available
seats in the open air cars. I think he
was subtly hinting that we should consider that since we didn’t smell very
good.
We
arrived at our seats, and the other passengers in our car were thrilled to see
us. Apparently we stank. Earlier we had kicked around some ideas for
having some fun with the tourists on the train.
My favorite was to board the train wearing only long underwear, with our
hair disheveled. We’d act like old,
crusty miners on our way to town for supplies.
We’d call each other Wayne and Red and Cookie, and carry on a lively
conversation about the gold that was in them thar
hills.
Of
course we didn’t do this, but we didn’t have to make any extra effort to annoy
our fellow passengers. We bought beer
and an assortment of snacks from the refreshments car. By assortment, I mean we bought all of them. By the time we’d consumed 3 beers each, we
were pretty well drunk. That’s one of
the fun side effects of hiking for 8-days on a diet consisting mainly of nuts,
berries, and granola. No tolerance to
alcohol.
I
guess we got a little rowdy. At one
point I glanced back and noticed that we had cleared out most of the car. J Bob snapped a classic photo over his
shoulder to document this:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/9067009@N03/8371824458/in/set-72157631996297940
All
of the seats behind us were full when we got on. An hour later, the only people left in the
whole car were one guy in the very back, two people giving us the old stink
eye, and one poor woman who apparently had her head out the window.
You’ll
notice that Bob J found this to be highly amusing. In truth, so did I.
We
enjoyed the beer and snacks for the first half of the ride. After that, we cut ourselves off. After all, one of us would have to drive us
from the railroad station back to the hotel.
Once we got back near Durango I turned on my phone to see what we’d
missed over the last week. As it turns out, not much.
I did gleefully report to the Bobs that Mitt Romney’s secret second wife
had been discovered in Mexico. I don’t
think they believed me.
We
checked in at the Hampton Inn, took showers, unpacked, and then repacked the
car. Once those chores were complete, we
ventured over to the Durango Brewing Company for burgers and beer. It was the perfect ending to a great week on
the trail.
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Please remember to Leave No Trace!