Sometimes I Like Sittin’ on Trains


About 100 years ago… or maybe it was just in June, we took three little toddlers on a train ride. Our town has a rail line running through it that literally divides the good part of town from the “other side of the tracks”.


The rail line is mainly used for cargo transport, but once a year, there’s a company from Kansas (I think? If I didn’t wait three months to post photos I’d remember these things) that brings a vintage train down for joy rides.


Tickets were $10 per person, but the kids rode for free as lap children. I only scored tickets because my awesome friend Emily went and bought them for me from the Chamber of Commerce.


For the two little boys obsessed with trains and Thomas, a real, live train ride was pretty cool. Right next to the train depot is an old restored engine along with a caboose. Both are stationary, but you can climb inside, ring the bell and sometimes, when the hydraulics are on, blow the horn.


But for this special day, we were riding on an actual train. The ride was an hour-long, slow-chug to the next town north. Along the way, we spied rusting out cars, discarded rail ties that I want to steal for my garden, and even a tent creepily pitched in the woods along the tracks. Everybody along the way watching the train waved.


This pretty lady was pretty relaxed about the whole thing, while the boys giggled and tickled each other in between staring out the window in awe.


The way back was pretty much a repeat of the way there, though the creepy conductor stopped for photo ops.



We ran into nap time and everyone got tired, but it was worth it for a fun afternoon on the train.




One thought on “Sometimes I Like Sittin’ on Trains

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s