Trains, Hot Dogs & Hobos....
I was the fortunate recipient of a wonderful Christmas present gifted to me by my Fab One. She bought 2 tickets to Paradise....well, almost.
She bought 2 tickets to the Museum's Hobo Campfire Cookout train ride!
The excitement of looking forward to this trip gave us energy and inspiration like we were The Little Engine That Could. We huffed and puffed up the hill of the holidays and over the crest of January.
C'mon January 22nd!
The big day finally arrived. It was time for me to virtually unwrap my present.
Driving like a safe Casey Jones, I guided my land locomotive into the depot of the Parrish landmark. Silver white streaks glinted across the windshield, reflected off stainless-steel railcars in the pre-dusk sunlight.
There was a small crowd of cold-weather coat in hand passengers queued at the gate. The mood was very upbeat. The unified pulse of excitement was palpable.
As our boarding time arrived, so did the various train icons. The Conductor. The Train Master. The Engineers.
As boarding began, I was hoping to hear that proverbial "All Aboard!" call.... maybe it came but we were too far back?
Boarding this rolling museum, we headed towards the rear of the train. We were free to roam the cabins, as it were, settling into the last two seats on the right. In a railcar with an enormous amount of legroom between the rows of seats.
A post-trip conversation with Josh, the Train Master, taught me the exciting history of the railcar in which we rode. Every detail of this man showed his love for his work!
Built in the early 1950's, our passenger car started life riding the tracks of the Union-Pacific Railroad. Then it moved north to the Alaska Railroad, which explained the huge amount of leg room within! Had to have plenty of room for those bundled up travelers, their boots/gear AND their sled dogs! Wow!
After a while the car came back south to warm up on the Amtrak lines.
Its last paydays were with the New Georgia Railroad, before the Florida Railroad Museum acquired it. We were literally riding in a museum masterpiece!
5:30 departure time. We felt a low clunk as that mighty Number 204 diesel engine five cars ahead of us eased out of the station. Slowly slipping past our vintage windows were other remnants of the glory days of rail travel.
Steam engine. Baggage cars. Railyard artifacts.
The lullaby of the rail with its clickety clack lilt and the car's slow rocking tilt hypnotized and romanticized. For the next few hours, we were the baggage being handled with extreme care.
Giving way to the panorama of potato row, Florida flora and orange tree 'graveyard' at Periwinkle Junction (as explained by our car's guide and docent Caroline), we soon sighted Willow, our next stop, as ol' 204 began to brake.
220 passengers (as counted by Edward, the Conductor) began to disembark the train.
Oak-infused columns of campfire smoke triggered the olfactory OH!-factory of the mind. Inhaled remembrances of campfires past. Of food, fun and family.
Our detraining path took us to a table where we were presented with the icon of the hobo world, a red or blue bandana hanging off of a stick. Tucked safely inside was our hobo meal of a hot dog, bun, condiments and marshmallows.
With a glance to the left, our hobo tables were set! Steel rings of fire surrounded by 4 bales of hay or 4 low benches. I did not count them all, but surely there were 20 or more of these blazing fire rings!
As did the other hobos, Fab One and I found a set of comfy bales to call our own, next to another hobo couple. Opening hobo sacks and unwrapping foil-wrapped weinies to kabob onto the sack stick was our next order of business.
Believe me, there is something about cooking a hot dog over an open fire on a cold night with the murmur of ol' 204 in the background as ambiance.
Once I'd perfected the char on my dog, I inverted the bun saddle-style on top, balancing it over the coals to get a nice crunchy heated munch.
There was plenty of lemonade to wash it all down.
Graciously, this was an All-You-Can-Eat hobo feast!
The air was alive with an intoxicating mix of franks and marshmallows, music and mirth. Did I mention there was a 7-man Bluegrass band playing?
Plenty of train tunes to pick and pluck.
The gray cover of cozy campfire smoke, memories of my grandparent's train travel did evoke. Those smoke belching stacks as their locomotives idled on the tracks.
With an "All Aboard" and campfires to our backs, this load of hobos was getting back ON the train. No need to ride in boxcar or under a car.
For 2 1/2 hours, 220 people plus crew were transported not only to a place of music, food & fires, but also to a place that inspires.
A soothing stop in an oft-crowded station we call life.
Life on the rails, a lot of wonderful tales...
Best Christmas present ever!
Thank you Fab One AND the Florida Railroad Museum! read more