Steam Train On A Rainy Day

We caught the steam.train from Mount Barker to Strathalbyn and back again, just because we could. In a perfect world we would have caught the steam train all the way to Victor Harbour and back again but that wasn't possible because the bridges between Strathalbyn and Goolwa couldn't be trusted with trains, so to Strath and back it was.  We took the afternoon train, one of us being very hopeful that the BoM was telling the truth when they promised that the previous two days' wild weather would go away and leave sunshine for our train ride

Sunshine?  Not quite.  That is a diesel engine at the front, the steam engine at the back.  The steam engine provides the puff and pomp, the diesel provides the power.  Everybody ignores the diesel engine and pretends that they're on a steam train ride.

 

The train was late returning from its morning trip to Strath, and blame was placed squarely on the miserable weather which had scattered branches across the track and necessitated regular stops to allow someone to wield a chainsaw.

Better late than never, and the cold weather made for dramatic clouds of steam.

 

We nabbed seats in the last carriage on the assumption that everyone else would be too lazy to walk all the way to the end of the train and we would have space. The train was full so it didn't matter what carriage we were on, we still got a full complement of anti social people playing on their phones, garrulous gangs of gregarious geriatrics, disaffected teenagers dangling at arm's length from their families, and a fair sprinkling of fractious toddlers and squalling babies. I don't mind squalling babies: I quite like sitting and appreciating the squalling and not having to do anything about it because the baby isn't mine.

We chugged slowly up the hill.

 

Window reflections.

 

 

What with all the hot bodies inside and the rain outside, the windows soon fogged up.  This made for artfully smudged photos.

Then we got over the Bugle ranges and as we chugged slightly faster down the other side the windows unfogged and Strathalbyn appeared with its own watered-down version of sunshine.

 

 

The gregarious geriatrics headed straight to the Strathalbyn Bakery to order coffees for which they would wait, fidgeting, as the train's departure loomed ever closer. The families all headed for the railway station playground and pulled out their thermoses.  The teenagers sloped off to appreciate the steam engine and the babies, released from train purgatory, stopped squalling. We weren't smart enough to bring a thermos so just stretched our legs down the main street and back again.

Sunshine on stone, Strathalbyn.

 

The train whistle hooted and the train started off, stopped to collect a panicked posse of geriatrics trailing takeaway coffee cups, and off we went. Mind you, we cheated. The big green diesel engine pulled the train up the hill while the steam engine puffed along at the back, blowing smoke and steam, tooting its horn, and generally making a showy song and dance about not much at all.  

 

Worn smooth by many hands.

Puff.

 

In no time at all (well, an hour actually, with an extra stop for chainsaw purposes much to the excitement of small passengers) we were back in Mt Barker and, surprise! It was raining.

 

Giving credit where it's due: thanks for the ride, #958.

 

We went home well satisfied with the day. The dog was not as satisfied and complained bitterly about being outside all day with only one large verandah and two luxurious, insulated kennels to protect her from the weather. I promised her a walk when the sun came out.

I hope she's patient.

 

Oh all right: one last steam train photograph.

 

There you go.