In the hopper

The remainder of my 65 annual train-calendars are in-the-mail.
Almost 3,000 smackaroos to produce, and 400 bucks to mail.
“Holy moly!” a girl once said.
But I love doin’ ‘em. Others my age (almost 74) are bored to tears, but not this kid.
“Wanna hear a story?” I asked the postal-clerk as I was leaving.
“Sure.”
“‘23Z, 249 on Four; CLEAR!’
‘23Z’ is the train-number, ‘Four’ is the track he’s on, ‘249’ is the milepost a signal is at, and ‘CLEAR’ is the signal-aspect, the equivalent of a green light.
Every time a train passes a signal, its engineer has to call out its aspect on railroad-radio. I have my scanner along, tuned to railroad-radio, so I’ll hear that.
I’m inside my car with my scanner on. My camera is outside, set up on tripod.
Outta the car! 249 is about 3/4s of a mile east; here he comes.
Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam! One shot is my calendar cover.”


23Z, west on Four, at the cut-out. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

“Wanna hear another story?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“‘04T, east on Two, 242; CLEAR!’”
How many times have I told that story? It’s in this “Too cold” link.


Amtrak’s eastbound Pennsylvanian at Plummer’s Crossing east of Tyrone’s station. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

“This is what it’s all about,” I say to pretty *****, my pharmacist. She’s totally unable to follow what I just said, but she’s smiling broadly.
“I got that sucker!” A snag of the century, snow flying, etc. “I can’t resist. Others my age are bored silly, but not me.”