the great train adventure, part I

Finally. As promised ages ago, I am posting the pictures and memories from my first (and possibly only) Great Train Adventure. I've been meaning to share this story for a long time, but I've been putting off posting about it for weeks. I think you guys will forgive me, however, given all that has happened over the past few weeks. (Near death experiences, spending copious amounts of time in a hospital, getting performances, gigs and rehearsals together, visiting NYC way too much ....)

With that little introduction aside, let me set the stage for the Great Adventure.

First of all, imagine a lovely little park named Nayaug in the middle of Scranton city limits. This park is quite nice, with a public pool, wildlife center, tree house and plenty of walking trails. It's the sort of place one would go to for a picnic, or a midday snooze, or something of the sort. It's very different than my beloved Prospect Park in Brooklyn, and not nearly as big, but an enjoyable place, all the same.

One of the best parts of the park is that it's very easy to slip off the paths and go wandering over rocks and in to a creek and the like. There's also a railroad line that runs along part of the park -- a perfect place to do some exploring, if one is into trains. (Which, by the way, I totally am.)

(Over to the right of the margin is a pretty terrible cell phone photo of part of the park.)

It was a warm day in early summer when a friend and I decided that it would be a lovely idea to go on a 3 mile walk to downtown Scranton via some back "trails" in Nayaug Park. I was a little apprehensive when my friend mentioned something about 'exploring a train tunnel' and 'walking along the railroad tracks'. He only managed to convince me to go after telling me about how scenic the walk would be. My friend promised all sorts of things, including a waterfall, rock art of Jim Morrison, and lots of flowers and bushes and green things. Being a fan of both Jim Morrison and nature, I was enticed by his descriptions.

And so we set off on our journey. It began innocently enough, with a leisurely walk along one of the paved main trails of Nayaug. This brief little spell soon ended, however, as I followed my friend and cut off the main trail. We made for a small field, which was really more of a paddock than a meadow, minus the required horses and fencing. Littered with debris and covered in flowers, the grassy area made an oddly beautiful scene. Cut glass sparked in the sunlight, while purple flowers bobbed in the breeze. Kind of magical, really.

Eventually a rock wall rose up in front of us. It had two tunnels blasted through it. The tunnel on the right had a railroad line running through it, but the tunnel on the left looked to be unfinished and abandoned, with no train tracks. We picked that one to walk through.











(Above, the tunnel in question. The left hand tunnel we took, and the right hand tunnel is the one with a train parked in front of it.)

The tunnel was cut through living rock, which dripped water on to the gravel floor. It was like the space was sweating and breathing, exhaling and inhaling with our every step. It was also incredibly dark, an overwhelming pitch black that obliterated and eliminated everything from sight.

There are few times in life where I have felt as claustrophobic as I have in that tunnel. The space was large, and the ceiling high, but I could still feel the weight of the earth crushing in on me. It was an awe inspiring and frightening experience, although one I am glad that I had.

After carefully picking our way through the pitch black tunnel, we emerged out the other side and began to walk alongside the railroad tracks. An impossibly long and winding train was parked directly outside one of the tunnels, and looked for all the world like some sort of slumbering and impressively huge beast. I made a joke about it resembling Falcor from the film 'The Never Ending Story', simply because it was so long, skinny and white. (Hey, and there is Falcor in his cinematic glory, to the right.)

We spent some time walking along the train and marveling at all the flowers growing alongside the track. It truly was beautiful here, with all sorts of colorful blooms and waving grasses dancing in the sunlight.

At one point we happened across an almost-ripe patch of raspberries, and of course dove in to pick some -- until we realized that ouch!! Raspberry bushes have thorns. Still, we picked away, and nearly got sick on the taste of almost-sweet-and-slightly-sour raspberries. The best part was how purple our fingers got from the berry juice, and how it stained our skin.

It was a marvel, really, biting into their juicy skins and getting at their bittersweet interiors. Having spent the past several years living in a city, I had forgotten what it was like to eat food right off the bush. It was a revelation and a reminder of how sweet life outside of the urban sprawl can be.

With our bellies now a little fuller, and our fingers nicely stained, my friend and I decided it would be interesting to climb up on the parked train and see if it was carrying any cargo. (For the record, it wasn't.)

My friend went up the side of the train first. He looked like a monkey as he ascended, and pronounced it a 'very cool view' from the top. Which, by the way, was really high up. I don't think people realize how tall trains are until they're actually standing next to them. They are like dinosaurs! Huge and imposing. Mammoth, really.

After my friend had his fill of climbing around, on, and over the train, I tentatively took hold of the ladder up the side of one of the cars and began to climb. I'm afraid of heights, however, and chickened out half way to the top. Despite my friend's encouragement, which began to border on irritation at my lack of bravery, I opted not to climb all the way up.

I did, however, get under the train and had my friend snap a picture of me trying to look cool. This was my bad ass moment. If I couldn't climb on top of a train, at least I could climb under one. The view was probably a little less inspiring, although no less interesting.

(To the right is what it looks like under a train, minus my grinning face.)

While it was very fun to climb around under a train, it's a really dirty thing to do. Literally. I wound up with grease on my face and all over my fingers and legs. It was really sticky, like black tar, and hard to get off. Also, it smelled bad and gave me a headache. All in all, a very annoying substance. However, getting covered in the gook was a small price to pay for clambering around a train, and anyway, it's always kind of fun to get covered in muck.

I'm stopping at this point because I've had enough typing for the day, and you've probably had enough reading, but I will continue with Part 2 soon. Lots to come -- Jim Morrison (on a rock), some colorful graffiti and a band of cute stray cats that I managed to take photos of. Oh yes, and a tense moment crossing a crevasse will also be described.

Until then ... happy train riding, or however it is you're spending your summer.