The Music of The Rail

Hanging on, knuckles white, grip slips from engine grease. Hair whips and stings, eyes water from gritty blasts of wind. Hearts pump hard, thoughts fire to stay steady, lay low and conquer the illicit challenge against the iron leviathan, high speed and the lurking law.

This was the intoxicating draw for five young men. This was the sheer fright of their mothers.

After the surge of strength, wit and agility required to hop a multi-ton locomotive, then came the calm, the serene and sublime. Visions of satin rivers, waving grasses and muslin clouds soothed nerves, jagged from the jump. Each silent in their own personal reverie, the bond of mutual experience was thick. Sitting on an uncomfortable corrugated metal floor, they drank in the peace and glory of creation. Every forest was a chapel, every sunbeam, heaven's light, breathing in the nourishment of nature.

Silence was accompanied by the rhythmic underscore of the engine, the white noise that cures a fretful mind.  The vistas and reverberations became their music.

Ride on, Railroad Five. See you around the next bend.