Photography and random writings from some crazy Cajun with a camera!

[Jimbaux knows that denial isn't the way to forgiveness.]

Yeah, what’s this?  Jimbaux bringing back the Sunday Sermon?  In spite of my predictions in the previous post, we do have one more post in April, but don’t get thy hopes up too high about a resumption of Sunday Sermons, thee dearest parishoners, for this is likely a fluke caused by various factors, including effective convalescing, a break in professional duties, and the fact that the weather will likely only be hot and humid here for many months to come, making me want to take advantage of the tolerable temperatures while they linger.  However, my wardie Kurt of Norfolk Southern Hampton Division fame apparently has designs for a Crescent chase sometime soon; so, Jimbaux’s results from that dual expedition would likely find their way here for presentation too.

Anyway, this is the first Sunday Sermon of 2013, and we will see two very familiar photo locations also for the first time in 2013.  Thanks to cloudiness, I didn’t even have to arise early – and would not have arisen early – to get these shots, as we are now in high-sun time, meaning that it is often advantageous to have clouds during high-sun.  So, after Charles Osgood signed off, I was out the door in search of trains, or something like that; yeah, I still care a little bit.

Right after I hopped in the truck, East Bridge Tower gave the ZLAJX permission to slide off the Huey P. Long Bridge and roll through Metairie on the NS Back Belt.  That works for me, especially since the ZLAJX is still something of a novelty, and visually distinct – including from its predecessors, the ZLAAT and ZLCAT (same train, different originating yard) – especially if it is short and contains all of its four visually distinct blocks (there are more blocks that are not visually distinct): empty Tropicana reefers, loaded auto racks from the Toyota plant in San Antonio, domestic containers, maritime containers.  Today’s train only had two such visually distinct blocks: the auto racks and the domestic containers.  Worse, the block of domestic containers was long enough that it was difficult to work the auto racks into the shot.  Oh, well.

Metairie Road

Here he is at Metairie Road.

I don’t like it that much either, and not just because of that headlight blobbing.

The woman seen below walked around for minutes before picking up scraps.

Yes, kiddies, we have some truck climbing for the first time in nearly two months.  I’ve still got it!!

Elysian Fields

Over at Elysian Fields, where I am shooting for the first time in 2013, it appears that I can still walk up an overpass too, as we see the train approaching the old Southern Railway cantilever signals at Frenchmen Street.

Wait!  What happened to the old cantilever signal?  Look, it’s no longer there, and it’s been replaced!!

Wow.  Well, they had seemed anachronistic as I had photographed them over the last decade, meaning that this really should not be a surprise; the cantilever signal at Elysian Fields a few hundred feet away still stands, though I suspect not for long.

Alvar Street

Here we go on CSX trackage at Alvar Street, from where you’ve seen many pictures from me, but none in 2013 until now.

I guess it’s the shot of the day.  It’s not great, but, whatever.  It’s definitely better than the wider shot below.

Yes, it was something of a small victory for me to be back at this spot considering recent health issues.

Over in the New Orleans Public Belt Railroad’s France Yard was some sort of CN high-wide train.  This is the first time that I ever see CN power in France Yard; it’s usually only NOPB, CSX, and KCS power there, and sometimes UP still passing through when the Back Belt gets clogged.

What could those things be?  Post any answers in the comments section.

Anyway, here’s a look back at the passing Z-train as it slowly enters CSX Gentilly Yard; you can see the auto racks here, and, yes, those are spine cars, the presence of which surprised me.

As I was standing up here – mind you, for the first time in 2013 – some drugged-looking young man approached me.  Oh, crap.  He mumbled to me, asking how he could go about getting a job on the railroad.  I told him that he had to go to the railroads’ websites.  He said that he didn’t have a computer or internet.  I told him to go to the public library.  He didn’t have much of a response.  I left.

Let’s have one more look at this train in France Yard.

How’s that?  What is that?  Again, CN power here is extraordinarily rare.

Some really dark clouds were approaching from the west, and The Cajun Porkchop, who suggested via text message that I might be able to work them into a shot, will probably be disappointed by the above results; even if he’s not, the results don’t do justice to how intense the clouds looked.

That’s all for today’s sermon.  Yeah, some preaching that was.  Oh, well.  If you want some keen observation, see what The Grumpster has to say today about human nature.  Most keen is this statement.

The problem with stereotypes is twofold: they nearly always have some rational basis, but they cast far too wide a net. This makes the lazy approach of either subscribing to or dismissing a stereotype perilous. Reality is far more complicated than either of these approaches allow.

For so long, I have thought that but been unable to articulate it.  Thanks, G., for finally putting it in such easy terms.  There, my friends, Jimbaux has allowed Grumpy to do his Sunday preaching for him.

What do you think of G.’s observation?

Also, John Young III has put out a neat shot of the Pennsylvania Railroad heritage unit next to Susie Q power.

Lastly, have you ever noticed that unlike so many other hobbies or interests – like sports, fishing, hunting, aviation, etc. – railroad enthusiasts make fun of other railroad enthusiasts who are more into it than they are?  What’s up with that?

Okay, that’s all for now, amigos.

Merci,

Jimbaux

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[Jimbaux is almost fine again . . . or maybe not.]

May You Live In Interesting Times

Hi.  It’s been a few weeks.  Even though the condition with my back seems to be improving thanks to two epidurals, I’ve just been too busy to write here.  Times that I would normally have spent blogging and photographing in the last few weeks, I’ve spent playing guitar, learning new things musically in general and specific to that instrument.  This is a trend that I have foreseen for awhile now, that of the guitar overshadowing the camera in my creative life of self-pursuits, and I’ve surely had my hands on the former far more than the latter lately.  Since I’ve never been “known” for guitar like I am for photography, some of you may be wondering what’s up with this “new” thing, but it’s actually not new at all, as I picked up the guitar at age 14 or 15, whereas I didn’t start taking pictures until about age 19 or 20; I got so much into taking pictures, that the guitar was a thing of my past for many years.  So, instead of being a “new” thing for me, the guitar endeavors are more of a case of “what’s old is new again.”

Regret is indeed for chumps; so, I allay whatever regrets that I have for putting down the guitar years ago – and I do or would have big regrets about that – with the gratitude of my pursuits in photography, since they likely would not have been possible had I pursued the guitar passion like I’m tempted to regret not doing.  With effort, determination, and perhaps a little bit of luck, perhaps I’ll eventually have something in the musical realm that’s as shareable as my photography.  On that note, I’m looking for a Cajun fiddle player who wouldn’t mind doing a recording of a parody of a hit song from the 1980s.  (I haven’t been looking that hard, but I may soon step up my efforts.)  In the meantime, I’ll share some pictures here that I took in late March and early April, pictures that, as is often the case, I took while out on other errands instead of just being out just to take pictures – the exception being the last set of pictures shown here.

The Shadow of The Shadow Warrior

I was pleasantly humbled by the responses – both private and in the comments section – of the previous post describing the recently-deceased Shawn Levy, his life, and his legacy.  Expressing gratitude for those who have affected you – even if you’ve seen some nasty sides of them – is very important, but expressions of gratitude are hollow if you don’t actually feel gratitude; in that regard, Shawn’s death was a wake-up call as much as it was a metaphorical kick in the gut, as I have been thinking of others who have affected me throughout my life, even those with whom I no longer associate or whom I no longer even like.  We’re all going to die, but we’re not all meant to be friends all of the time and forever; still, acknowledging the effects that others have had on one is one of the keys to inner peace and to actually feeling gratitude as I have described.

Obligatory Terrorism Commentary

Words to accompany the below pictures basically wrote themselves in my head on the April 13-14 weekend, and I thought that I’d have a post out within days, but then the terror originating in Boston precluded my ability to remember it all and precludes now my ability to present it unstained by mention of the terror.  So, I really don’t feel like talking much about this, but I must get a few things out there.

First, we once again proved so willing to be the victims of terrorism, as an article entitled “We Are All Cowards Now” describes so well.  This comment below is quite spot-on:

“But we cannot keep [our children] safe. That is the new reality.”

Can someone please specify a year, date, or period of time in which it was possible to keep all children safe from all forms of violence, disease, poverty, hunger and accidents?

I remind you that people who die in terrorist attacks are not victims of terrorism.  They are victims of murder.  The victims of terrorism are those who are terrorized, and with suspected packages being called in in different parts of Louisiana days later, the terrorism spread to my home state.

Second, you may have already read my comments Wednesday evening about how the outcry over the “Miranda Rights” issue is much to do about nothing and how labeling Suspect #2 an “enemy combatant” when there is no evidence that he is one is about the most cowardly and foolish thing that we could do.

Third, the fact that I even feel obliged to comment about the incident – just like how so many else feel the need to say something about it – shows that we are indeed victims of terrorism.  To Keep Calm And Carry On is the best response you can make to the bombings.

Fourth, it’s okay if you can’t actually do anything to help the victims of the attacks, but please don’t claim that you are doing anything to help them.  Posting that you’re participating in a “Run for Boston” is quite shallow and self-serving, especially if it’s obvious that you enjoy running anyway.  Yes, it’s good to care, to want to help, to feel empathy, but what are you actually doing “for” Boston?  No, I’m really not doing anything “for Boston” either, but I’m not claiming that I’m doing anything for Boston!

That’s enough of that.

Picture Time

Contrary to customary fashion, I am not following the usual pattern of chronological presentation of images.  I don’t have much to say about these images, and I want to first present the ones about which I do have something technical and specific to say.  Remember that you can read caption information in the filenames, which can be read by holding the cursor over the images.

The New And Abbreviated Eastbound Z-train

Union Pacific’s eastbound hotshot domestic intermodal train to Atlanta via CSX no longer passes through New Orleans; it now passes through Memphis as a ZLAME.  So, what was the ZLAAT or ZLCAT coming through New Orleans is now a much shorter ZLAJX to Jacksonville with San Antonio traffic on some days.  The ZLAJX with what appears to be a dearth of a San Antonio pickup is seen below moving via the New Orleans Public Belt Railroad at Cooter Brown’s.

I had not shot here in a really long time, like about a year, when I shot the KCS #53 here one Sunday morning.

Of those three locomotives, only the first one was running.

Holy Saturday

The only thing noteworthily holy about it was that I was for the first time in a month well enough to drive to Bayouland, and I had the good sense to stop and walk around – and take pictures – on the way.

The epidural must have helped.

Raceland Mediocrity

While we’re talking about the Z-train, let’s look at the what apparently still was and may still be the full westbound Z-train.

I don’t like how the dark containers blend in with the trees; I guess it really was the thought that counted.

Lumbering and Lumber

What do the markings on these pieces of lumber mean?  I know the date and the dimensions, but the rest of that stuff I don’t understand.

I wonder as I lumber.

Is It Really Worth It To Shoot In RAW?

I had the camera still set on small jpeg from the lumber picture when, on the way from Bayouland to back to Woadieville, I shot this train at Paradís with no time at all to spare.

For being shot under cloudy skies as a jpeg, it surely cleaned up well in Photoshop.  Is shooting in RAW really necessary?  If not, is it because I’m getting better in Photoshop?

More Following of Predictable Patterns

And, in and of only itself, is that really so bad?  Or does one need to be more ambitious?  But what is ambition, anyway?  Is ambition more or less important than relationships?

I just don’t know.  I have far more answers than questions.  I search, I seek, and I sometimes find.  I try to present some of all of it – the searching, the seeking, and the finding – here.

I am asking that perennial question: what is the best use of my talents?  How do I balance my own desires with what I am good at doing for others?  Can I fuse the doing of both of them?  I suppose that we all ask these questions.

Here is a trio of telephone pictures for you.

The water level in Bayou Lafourche was high on the 7th.

It was even higher on the 12th!

Here’s a 1949 Ford F1 owned and being restored by Earl over at Earl’s Transmissions in Raceland, where I had to visit and spend more money yet again.

Earl said that he plans to eventually sell this beauty; so, if you’re interested, shoot me a message, and I’ll make sure that Earl knows that you’re interested.

Saturday, On The Bayou, I Think It Was  . . .

. . . the 13th of April.  Another day ’twas.  Anyway, I actually sort of did get out on this particular afternoon just to get out.  There were no trains running; so, I decided to diverge and visit some places that I had not visited in a great many moons, and there is even some ancient railroad rolling stock to be seen here.

First, we see Lafourche, a view of it that we have not heretofore seen here.

I surely wish that my back would heal.  I’ve actually slightly regressed, the reason why I’m able to actually get this post done.  There’s only so much that one can do when lying down, but, then again, as I’ve said before, were I fully functional, I’d be doing some other things too.

What’s that?  Please don’t tell me that it’s an old farm truck.

Let’s stop by the White Plantation where we will see something somewhat out-of-place in the bayous on southern Louisiana: pine trees.

Our next stop is the site of the former Caldwell Sugars.  This mill ceased operation sometime I think in the 1990s or before, but I really don’t remember.  Perhaps it was earlier than that, and perhaps its closure was the reason that the former Texas & Pacific Railway branch to Thibodaux was abandoned to that point.

In the above image, the T&P track would have been across the frame about where those trees are.

I’m getting nostalgic.  Let’s have a closer look.

Do you see those two dark circular things at the bottom left?  Let’s have a closer look.

Wow!  These are riveted former tank cars that still show UTLX markings!  The mill has been closed for probably more than two decades, and these cars probably came here a few decades before that.

Below is Leighton Sugars, which is still active.  It’s just a crying shame that there are no more railroad tracks here.  The Southern Pacific’s Napoleonville Branch passed here, off in the distance in front of the mill, but those tracks were removed 15 years ago.

Through the cool, crisp fall air in the late 1980s was often heard a steam whistle from this mill, and, oh, I remember that sweet sound so well.

Anyway, like I said, I had something special, perhaps profound, to write with these pictures, but I got distracted.  Such is life.

This may be my last post of the month, and with only two posts this month, this may be the least active month in the more-than-two-year history of Jimbaux’s Journal.  Like I said, I’ve just had other priorities.  I’m also thinking of selling my 15-85mm/f3.5-5.6 Canon lens.  It’s good for indoor photography, as you can see from the pictures that I took on the day that I bought it, but my needs have shifted, and I would like to eventually acquire once-again a 17-40mm/f4 lens for outdoor work; I’m in no rush, though, and I can get by with the kit lens for a few months, especially as I might not take as many pictures anymore.  If you make me an offer for the 15-85mm lens for about 80% of retail price, you will probably have a deal.

Thank you for taking part in this little photographic journey with me.

Jimbaux

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[Jimbaux needs serenity, in a place where he can hide; nothing changes, days go by.]

When one of the influential people in one’s life dies an early death, it really forces one to think about where he is, who he is, who he has become, and how he became that way.

The Shadow Warrior was funeralized and laid to rest on Friday (5 April 2013.)  No, I did not attend.  My absence had as much to do with the fear that my still-ailing back would not be able to take that much sitting and standing as it did with the uneasiness of attending because of the falling out that The Shadow Warrior and I had sometime almost five years ago.  Nobody told me that I shouldn’t attend, and those mutual friends who did weigh in on the topic said that I should do whatever I felt was right.

Some, including his and my mutual friend The Mid-City Marine, asked what the reason for the falling-out was, especially since he said that Shawn never spoke to him about it.  Before I ‘answer’ that, please note that this post and the pictures inside of it are really all about the time that the three of us spent on Rich Mountain in February 2007, one of my most memorable trips there, and The Mid-City Marine’s only trip there.  On the night that Shawn died, both The Mid-City Marine and I had trouble sleeping, as we reported to each other the next day; both of us had lied awake in our respective beds processing the news for hours.

Really, I don’t know the reason for the falling out.  All that I know is that nearly five years ago in the late spring of 2008, he stopped calling me on the telephone and stopped e-mailing me.  As I was in the process of what eventuated to be a summer-long pilgrimage to North Dakota, I had little capacity to concern myself with it.  Furthermore, that North Dakota experience changed me greatly, and I had plenty with which to occupy my mind once I returned home.  That trip to North Dakota was also the last time I visited Rich Mountain – a place to which The Shadow Warrior had introduced me in February 2003 – until nearly four years later when I visited it on Day 1 and Day 2 of my 2012 spring road trip.  This is significant because since that February 2003 introduction to the place, I would visit Rich Mountain at least once and sometimes as many as thrice yearly, including every late-October gathering in that time period, the last being in October 2007.  My June 2008 visit was not so much a visit to Rich Mountain as it was a convenient place to stop the first night on my way to North Dakota, but, again, it would be my last time there in nearly four years, and, as I type this, the second-to-last time I visit the place.

Coincidentally, the June 2008 KCSHS convention in Monroe was the last one that I attended, the last formal gathering of railroad enthusiasts I attended, and the last time that I saw Shawn.  In another bizarre coincidence, just a few days before I learned of Shawn’s death, I inquired about possibly attending this year’s convention, since some other travel plans that I have might take me near potential convention locations (and I learned that this year’s convention is in Rosenberg, Texas.)  We shall see.  Anyway, as 2008 drew to a close after my North Dakota (and Saskatchewan) experiences, I began to focus on different pursuits.  My travel became both more local and more abroad: Mississippi, Georgia, southern Texas, a few more visits to Canada, a trip to the Pacific Northwest, a few trips to Washington, DC, one to northern New England, another trip to Mexico, and a visit to England and France.  What was great about my spring 2012 road trip is that it brought me back to places I had been, some of them several times, in the years before 2009 but not since then.  So, I was ‘reclaiming old territory’ in many ways.

Right as I type this, we’re rapidly coming up on the five year anniversary of my detention and near arrest from the New Orleans Police Department for photographing KCS’s business train from the Broad Street overpass.  Just as I was one of the first people Shawn called on the telephone a year before when BNSF decided to apparently not hire him out of dispatcher school due to ‘obesity’ or something, Shawn was the first person I called and told about that embarrassing incident with the NOPD, an incident I kept to myself due to the shame – which I realized was something of a choice – for more than three years.  I think that we talked on the telephone for about three hours that night.  I guess I can now reveal Shawn as the black person with a law enforcement background who said that had it been him on that bridge, the police probably would not have treated him the way that I was treated, which S. A. Bell seemed to confirm when he said that the NOPD officers were thinking, “what’s this white guy doing on this bridge [in that very un-white part of town]?” when he stopped me on 2011 September 11 at the Slidell Amtrak depot after I had photographed the northbound Crescent, as reported in 9/11 Freedom Photography – Part 2 of 5.

That brings us to the last ever private communication between Shawn and me.  Six days after the Part 2 article was published, he sent me a message, a message written in a way that lacked any suggestion that we had ever been friends, about  the “controversial and inflammatory nature” of the series of posts I made on my photos taken on the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.  I won’t go into further detail of why he sent the message, but he mentioned nothing of his role in the story; I simply did not respond to his message or acknowledge it.  That was it.  Now he’s dead.

I had just put him out of my mind years ago, and I saw some nastiness from him (we all have some nastiness) in a few instances spread over time that made me uninterested in maintaining a friendship and made me lose plenty of the respect that I had for him; upon learning of his death, however, a flood of memories returned, and, as I wrote that night, I realized that despite the end of our friendship a few years before his death, that friendship had had a profound impact on me and who I have become, and I am grateful to have known him.  I think that the “controversial and inflammatory nature” of the 9/11 series was actually, paradoxically, partly influenced by Shawn’s own individualist nature about such things, which inspired me in that regard.  In other words, losing him as a friend was the cost of what I had gained from having him as a friend, as weird as that is.  Thanks, Shawn.  I am today who I have become partly thanks to you, and some people whom I call friends today I met through you.  Regardless of what happened afterward or why it happened, I am eternally grateful, and the pictures here on this site are a testament to what I have learned from you.

Rich Mountain – 24 February 2007

Today’s song is one that I’ve long associated with Rich Mountain and its serenity, hence its selection, especially upon the death of someone.

Weirdest Weather Day Ever

As I stated earlier, the February 2007 trip to Rich Mountain was one of the most memorable that I have had there, and it was as much because The Mid-City Marine came along as it was because of the weather, which made it the least attended of any of the gatherings there that I have attended.  On Saturday 24 February 2007, the date that all of these pictures were taken, the weather got really bizarre.  It started out cloudy, then there was a torrential rainfall in the late morning, then followed by crystal-clear blue skies, and then followed by . . . . well, you’ll just have to wait and see.

To start the day, The Mid-City Marine and I had breakfast in Poteau at some Kiwanis breakfast, and it was good, and there were other railroad enthusiasts there, but I don’t remember seeing anyone out chasing trains other than the three of us for the rest of the day, except maybe when the rain came.  We then met up with The Shadow Warrior and shot a few trains at the South Howe Hill to start the day, and then we went to the overlook on the hill at Heavener Runestone State Park, which, as I reported on my visit there in March 2012, was the first time that Shawn had been there.

As usual, all of the images shown in this post are presented in their chronological order, though I took many more pictures that day that I’m not publishing here.

Then, The Rains Came

I can’t remember if we saw it coming, but we took cover at the covered picnic tables near the southern end of the yard in Heavener.  Despite the covers, we did get quite wet, as the rain was driving hard and furious.

Then, The Rains Stopped

The rains stopped, and the southbound H-train made some noise about leaving town.  Under cloudy skies, the three of us chased it across the mountain all the way to Mena.

Then, we went to check out the Mena airport, near which are some shops that do refitting work on airplanes.

I don’t know why I like that picture so much, but I do.  There’s something of a timelessness to it, one former friend, now deceased, and another friend, whom I got to know better through the first, and both being Marines, the former affecting me greatly, the latter being somewhat affected by me as much as he affects me.

This is the quintessential Shawn, with his beloved USMC attire and his beloved Jeep Liberty.

I don’t remember if there was a train to chase back northbound, and I don’t remember where we ate lunch – but I’m thinking that it was the Subway in Mena, which is a traditional place for me to eat there – but we made our way back northward.

Reconvening In Page

We learned somehow that a southbound train was coming to Page, and the three of us stopped there to see the C-KCTU come through.

It was shortly after I shot the above picture and shortly before I shot the below picture that I shot the picture of Shawn that you may have already seen that I published on Facebook the night of his death.

And then we see the going-away shot of the DPU, complete with TFM power still with its TFM numbering.

After that, we just hung out for awhile.  I don’t remember that we were waiting on a particular train.  We were just chatting, the three of us, three southeastern Louisiana guys, three New Orleans guys, even though never living in the city simultaneously.

Please note how sunny it is; not only is that a stark contrast from the very rainy morning, but it would not last until sunset, as we shall soon see.

I seem to remember that it was then that Shawn told us that he was trying to get into BNSF dispatcher school, which I thought was great.

Once he got through the school later that year, I wasn’t the only one who thought it was great.  However, many of us were a little stunned when he didn’t get offered a position due to concerns over his “obesity.”  Here’s what BEK had to say upon learning of Shawn’s death.

I knew him only briefly,when he was in Fort Worth studying to become a train dispatcher at BNSF. He passed the class admirably, and would’ve made a fine dispatcher and been an asset to the company, however, for medical reasons that made absolutely no sense in the context of folks who’d already been hired, BNSF passed on hiring him. He left Fort Worth, and apart from his fine photographs, that was the last I’d seen of him. I’d been impressed with his work for the KCS group and the Christmas train.

That all makes sense, but maybe the medical conditions of “folks who’d already been hired” and how it affected their work was the reason that the standards were raised, if they were raised at all, but I really don’t know.  In any case, Shawn got pancreatic cancer about five years after he would have been hired by BNSF.  I don’t know if that shows clairvoyance on the part of the railroad, but until I read the below message from a railroader friend, I had no evidence that I wasn’t the only one thinking it.

That’s terrible. I know he meant a lot to you, even though you two grew apart at the end. I wonder if the HR dept. at BNSF would feel some sort of self-approval of their decision not to hire his “overweight” self, if they knew of his death?

Actually, I think that the word that BNSF used was “obesity,” but, whatever the case, Shawn stated that he learned of this through an automated e-mail message, which he thought was itself a bit unbecoming.

Shawn’s response to this was something that I found both interesting, slightly unsettling at first, and yet ultimately somewhat admirable in ways that have influenced me to this day; there is plenty that we can learn from this, and that “we” includes any of you who are in a position to employ anyone else.

Some of his friends who worked for BNSF encouraged Shawn to approach whomever at the company to ask about this, appeal it, follow-up on it, whatever.  Please keep in mind that Shawn was, despite his size, a runner, and was in at least decent cardiovascular shape because of it at the time.  Shawn mulled those options for awhile, but ultimately just decided to let it be, to not follow-up, to not ask why, to not appeal, despite the encouragement of friends who worked for the company.  Why just let it be when he had just spent the time and effort going through the class and had been so excited about the job of being a dispatcher?

“This is the peek behind the curtain,” Shawn told me.  If this was the way that the railroad would treat someone who hadn’t yet worked for the company, then, he said, it was a foreshadowing of how he might be treated once he became and employee.  Maybe so, maybe not, I don’t know.  His conclusion, or at least as I interpreted it, was, despite the chance to both work with trains and make good money, that if that’s the way that “the number two railroad in the country” was going to deal with people, that he didn’t want to work there.

Wow, what does that mean?  Have we found an example of honor and dignity deviating from self-sacrifice?  And does it show the price people pay for having good-paying jobs with health insurance?  If you sell your soul or if you keep it not for sale, doesn’t it cost you plenty either way?  I’ve certainly had to face this.  Does having a nice house with nice things in it mean that you maybe don’t always stand up for yourself?  For many people, I guess, it is worth the cost, but apparently it was not worth it for Shawn, and, being of a somewhat like mind, I can, despite our falling out and despite the snarky and sometimes hypocritical behavior I witnessed from him at times (which made me mostly unwilling to make any attempts at thawing the ice once the ice formed, but that’s not terribly important anymore, except that it shows that I was behaving toward him in a manner similar to which he was behaving toward BNSF), I can both relate to him and admire him for it.

The story of how he handled the impersonal rejection from BNSF is consistent in ways that I admire with another story from his time with the United States Marine Corps, long before I met him.  After graduating from Brother Martin High School, Shawn attended the University of New Orleans for two years before enlisting the Marine Corps.  So, he had some college behind him upon entering the military.

“Not many people know this, but I turned down a commission in the Marine Corps,” he told me.  Why?  Why would he turn down being an officer in the Marine Corps that he loved so much?

He told me that some of his superiors recognized his intelligence and suggested he try to become a commissioned officer.  Perhaps feeling flattered, Shawn took the placement test for officer school.  He scored high enough to be accepted, but then the testing person told him that he did not need to have tried so hard on the test.  Shawn asked why.  He was told that because he was a member of a racial minority, he only needed to score at least a certain score lower than the minimum score for white officers.

He said that it was upon hearing this that he realized the reason for his perception that so many of the white officers in the Marine Corps did not respect the black officers, and he thought that if he would have taken the commission, he’d always be viewed as one who became an officer because of his race as opposed to actual merits.  He said that he was told, “you’re making a mistake,” when he rejected the commission.

Do you see the consistency between the story of his refusal to question or follow-up on BNSF’s impersonal rejection and his refusal to accept the commission in the Marine Corps once he learned about the different scores for racial minorities?  I do, I admired him for it, and I, for better and for worse, have developed a similar attitude, which I suspect is, perhaps a bit paradoxically, part of the reason for the falling out; we were actually too much alike in some ways.

“What is Shawn going to do with his life?  Ever since I’ve known him,” he has bounced around from job to job, The Godfather once asked me after BNSF rejected Shawn and before The Godfather himself sold me down the river to a charming bully at the end of 2008, the same year that Shawn and I had the falling out, causing me to mostly go back to being an on-my-own railroad enthusiast with a few local and a few far-away enthusiast friends, which makes sense, since the like of trains and watching them is a way of getting away from the madness of humanity.  Since 2008, about the only new railroad enthusiast friend that I’ve made and with whom I’ve developed a real friendship is Nitro.  Heck, the last time that I went hang out at the depot at Hammond was in December 2007, and Shawn was there and can be seen in my picture there.

Well, dearest Godfather, it looks like Shawn did plenty with his life; one does not necessarily have to stay at the same job for 30 years to “do something” with one’s life.  There indeed are plenty of good reasons to stay with one employer for a long time, but changing jobs enriches one and therefore helps to enrich those whom one serves in each successive endeavor.  With each new experience, each new job, each new service toward a non-profit organization, Shawn gave the gifts that he had helped to cultivate in each of his previous endeavors.

In that sense, Shawn died a rich man, avoiding becoming a martyr, at least for things that he didn’t think mattered but that others might have thought mattered, and he had many great experiences while helping to enrich the lives of many others, including mine, and maybe even yours if my work here, or at least the aspects of it that have been inspired by Shawn, affects you.

I’m thankful that, per my request, he took my camera and grabbed this picture of The Mid-City Marine and me.

Before he took the picture, he made some joke about, “uh, how do you work this thing?”

Back To Heavener, Before A Different and Bizarre Kind Of Storm Hits

We decided to quit chit-chatting and head back to Heavener, and we ended up hanging out at the fuel racks as the power on some train was parked there.  It is still, as you see, sunny and cool with blue skies, but that was about to change.

Not long afterward, as we were talking and looking at the train at the fuel rack with our backs to the sun, the scene got slightly dimmer.  I didn’t think anything of it, but Shawn turned around to look toward the west.

“That’s a funny looking cloud,” Shawn said.  I turned around to see it for myself.

“Yeah, it’s got no shape,” I said.

I don’t know how long it took for us to really realize what was happening, but I think I might have been the one who said, “that’s not a cloud!”

And Then, The Dust Came

I seem to a remember a slight panic which included the securing of items, and specifically making sure that the windows were rolled up on vehicles and camera bags closed.  Soon, we were greeted with this:

The photographs do not do the scene justice, but this was hard on our eyes, and the shower that night was extra refreshing, as it felt like I had been rolling around on a beach.  Keep in mind that we had gotten quite wet earlier on this day, and now this was happening.  We got word that a northbound train was preparing to leave; so, away to the South Howe Hill we went.  While waiting, I pointed my camera straight at the sun.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but it surely wasn’t blue either!  This is the first time I had experienced a real dust storm, and the locals whom we later asked said that something like this happens here about twice yearly.

Here at the South Howe Hill, we see The Shadow Warrior, his truck, and The Mid-City Marine’s rental car.

Keep in mind, too, that we really hadn’t seen any other foamers after the late-morning rain.  Here’s our northbound train and a dust storm.

That’s actually what the shot looked like after I did the standard and simple “Auto Levels” adjustment in Photoshop, and I’m surprised how clear the image is, since this is what the shot looked like without the Auto Levels adjustment.

I guess all we really are is dust in the wind.  And that was it for this day.  We all needed showers quite badly after that!

I hope that you have enjoyed the pictures.

A Few More Thoughts

The day after Shawn was laid to rest, our mutual friend Kurt came over to my place so I could help him remove a dust spot from his camera, and he showed me plenty of old train pictures he took in the New Orleans area.  Kurt knew Shawn before I did and remained friends with him until the end.  So, his well-timed visit was a small way of healing for me.  Thanks, Kurt.

I was talking to a friend whom we will call Maggie about my awkward feelings about Shawn’s death, that I was reading all of these great praises of someone with whom I had had a falling out and whose nastiness I had occasionally experienced in addition to his very good qualities, and she told me that it’s hard when you’ve had a falling out with the person, that she had experienced the same things.  I told Maggie that it made me wonder what people are going to say about me when my time comes; she pointed out that it won’t matter, since I’ll be dead.  Damn, she’s right, I guess, but given the choice, I’d much prefer people to say nice things about me, that I had enriched their lives in some way.  So too it was with Shawn, regardless of what happened afterward.

Maybe there really is ultimately no point to anything at all, but such knowledge is not always useful when trying to decide how to live one’s life.  I think of myself as a very real person, not going out of my way to merely “be nice” at the expense of being honest, but I also never try to deliberately harm or vex anyone, offend anyone; that, however, doesn’t stop people from “taking offense,” which, as the phrasing suggests, is the choice of the person “taking” the “offense,” as I can more clearly see now.

Still, Shawn’s death, people’s reaction to it, and my own recent back problems have been a perfect storm of humility for me, reminding me that I’m not young and invincible, that I will one day breathe my own last breaths too, and what will be the point of anything I’ve ever done?  Will I have made the world a better place?

I was corresponding with Catina over at Lovin’ Louisiana last week, and I told her this in response to the most recent posting of Chip pictures:

I’m glad that the Chip pictures have resonated with you and affected you so positively.  As analytical of a person that I am, I sometimes don’t really have much of a clue as to why I do the things I do, more specifically, why I invest so much resources into it, but maybe the anticipation that it will resonate with people is part of it.  As much of an “I really don’t care what you think of me” kind of person I can be, it is truly good to be appreciated for who you are.

My statements to her there are as much inspired by the “Amicus Plato, sed magis amica veritas” mentality as they were by a nine-year-old post from Grumpy that has taken on new meaning for me lately.  Did you read that one?  It’s really great!

Anyway, here’s what Catina responded to me, posted here with her expressed permission.

Ironically, I believe both to be true of you:

You generally don’t care what people think of you, you are you and that’s that.  Yet, You want what you do to have meaning in some way; you inform, teach, see/show people things in ways they may not see it. You work hard to give insight into many things.  Whether that be your original goal or not, it seems to be why you do what you do. At least in part.

While we, you & I don’t always see things in the same light or even always agree, I see that you generally have the  “greater good” on your mind. Whether you intend it or it’s just who you are, that I don’t know.

That, I thought, was a great insight, and, as was the topic being discussed, it’s good to be appreciated for who one is.  That’s why I asked that question on Facebook recently to my readers.  While I want to be genuine and real, and while conformity would cause me existential death, I really do want to be appreciated for who I am, but having that desire makes me, like Grumpy’s post said, just like everyone else.  Last year, I just simply walked away from two friendships that I had had since my teenage years.  I finally had the courage to just realize I was better off without those two, and maybe they were better of without me.  That’s why I can accept that things happened the way that they did with Shawn, be okay with that, and still be supremely grateful that I knew him and that he affected me the way that he did.  I close this post with the faith that Shawn was and still is recognized and appreciated for who he was, the hope that I am and will be appreciated for who I am, and the hope that all of you can be appreciated for who you are.

Shawn served in the Marine Corps reserves for a few years after his active duty time, earned a degree in geography from the University of New Orleans, and offered his time, talent, and effort to causes such as the KCS Holiday Express, the Meridian Railroad Museum, and the Kansas City Southern Historical Society, of which he was the current president; he was a friend to many and is already missed by many.

With gratitude to Shawn, The Mid-City Marine, Kurt, The Godfather, The MEXLIST Man, Maggie, all of my family, friends, colleagues, and all of you readers,

Jimbaux

{ 16 comments }

Warning: Too Many Pictures

Welcome to Day 2 of Jimbaux’s 2012 Spring Road Trip.  All of these pictures were taken on Saturday 31 March 2012.  Day 1 can be seen here.

From Heavener, Up Rich Mountain, Back to Heavener, Northward Through Pittsburg, To El Rancho Grumpo

Hello, there.  Yes, I will present a ridiculous amount of pictures here.  It’s the only way that I could think to do it.  If I was a resident of these places that I’d visit, then I’d either not photograph this stuff, or not photograph them nearly as often, which is a big reason why I like seeing the work of photographers who visit my own area.

I’ve done a couple of things to address the problem of too many pictures.  The first is that many images are saved at lower quality than I normally would save them, and that’s why some of them look fuzzy.  Another thing I did is not making many of them the maximum 934 pixel width.  Please remember, too, that caption information for each image can be found in the filename, which can be read by holding your cursor over the image.

We will start our morning obviously where we ended the previous evening: Heavener, Oklahoma.  I had stayed in the Green Country Inn, right across the highway from the KCS yard; it’s about the only decent hotel in town, and its existence depends on the presence of the railroad in the town, as it is the hotel that the railroad uses.  Out-of-town crews from Pittsburg, Kansas, where we’ll visit later today, and Shreveport, Louisiana, which we saw yesterday, stay there before working their way home on another train.

I can’t remember what I did for breakfast, but it surely wasn’t the Downtown Cafe, since I had learned the night before when I arrived that it had apparently closed since the last time that I was here, which was June 2008 when I was on my way to North Dakota.  I just forgot to mention yesterday that this was my first time to Rich Mountain in nearly four years, and that prior to that visit, I had come here every fall since the Shadow Warrior, who died 362 days after these pictures were taken, first introduced me to this area in February 2003.  Thank you, Shawn.  Seriously.  I have a debt of gratitude to you.

Anyway, I probably ate breakfast at the Sonic, which is right by the hotel, but now that I think about it, I seem to recall trying a doughnut place in town.

It’s hazy and humid this morning in Heavener.

Given how the previous day’s post ended, it seems that there is always plenty of activity at the mainline fuel racks.

Railroading is a ’round-the-clock affair, which is why even Americans who don’t have special skills and talents (even if they have college degrees) or intellect can still buy big houses, fill them with cheap merchandise, and keep water and electricity constantly flowing into them.  You can thank men like the one seen here for your lifestyle.

I’m not liking all of this haze, but I’m just happy to be here.

Hopefully, the fueler was too.

Chase Time!

A southbound loaded grain train left the yard.  Oh, it is on!  The thing to do here is to chase a southbound train up the Rich Mountain grade, and that’s what we do, but it’s not until we cross into Arkansas that it’s finally clear enough to photograph this train.

Three quarters of an hour after and more than a dozen miles east of the above shot at the fuel racks, we finally have a shot.  I can’t remember if it was The Shadow Warrior or The Arkansas Kid – or both of them – who are responsible for my habit of referring to this shot as “Casey’s Spot,” but, even after a four-year absence from this place, I still call it such.

It’s just like old times, except I’m the only foamer around here, but I somewhat like it that way, which is part of the reason I stopped attending the gatherings, the other reasons being that other activities, people, and desires began competing for my limited resources and attention.

Rich Mountain

Now I realize another reason why the gatherings are in the fall and the winter.  Not only is the weather often better, but so is the lighting.  I’ve become a much better cloudy day shooter in recent years, and you might remember that I had en epiphany about cloudy day photography on my February 2006 trip to this area, but I wasn’t blessed with cloudy skies today.

There wasn’t much that I could do other than set up on the outside of a curve near the crest of the hill, and while waiting for the train, I popped off this rather iconic view of what Rich Mountain means to me and perhaps to a few other people.

Yes, the Rich Mountain Country Store, with the KCS tracks in the foreground!  ‘Twas good to visit Steve again, but I didn’t notice until after I had left the absence of Chase, the wonderful dog that lived there.

Well, I’m all set up for a not-so-inspiring shot, and, wait, what’s this sound behind me?  Oh, damn!  Here comes a northbound train that my southbound is going to meet, and it looks like it’s getting here just a few seconds soon enough to jack my shot!

I guess that wasn’t so bad.  I mean, it is a photograph of a meet on Rich Mountain.  Let’s see what else we can do while we are here.

How’s that?  Here’s the DPU pusher.

I chased this thing further south to Acorn, then realized that a new radio tower jacks the shot, then set up for a wider shot at the crossing, only to get jacked by some motorist who insisted on hurrying up to wait at the crossing.

Fooey!  I’ve had enough of this, and I’ve gone south enough on a northbound trip as it is.  It was time to turn around and head back northward.  I can’t arrive too late at El Ranch Grumpo, but I can’t arrive it Pittsburg too early either.

The Mountain Itself

Now that we don’t have any trains to chase, we can stop to see the mountain itself, and we take the drive up the steep and windy road to the top of the mountain.  Once we get to the top of the mountain, there is a much less steep and windy road along its crest.

Trees on the top of the mountain are very short because of the wind and the fact that water can’t stay atop the mountain for very long.

I really wanted to photograph the road down the mountain, but it is winding, narrow, and steep, and stopping on it to take a photo is just asking for big trouble.  About all that I could do was get a shot in the straight parts near the bottom, and you can see the railroad crossing where we were earlier, with the country store hidden behind the trees at the left side of the road.

Going down that road, it’s best to put your vehicle in first gear.

Page

I stop at Page, the location of a break in the Rich Mountain grade and therefore the location of the only siding on the hill, where I find our northbound empty grain train.

This is one of those places that looks better under clouds, and you can get the sky entirely out of the shot, as you see above, but that didn’t stop me from doing this:

While here, I need to get a few shots of the creek.

If you’re not impressed, please forgive my fascination with this scene, as I am from the deltaic plains of southern Louisiana, where all rocks and stones are imports.  Naturally cascading water over rocks, even relatively placidly, will probably always fascinate me.

I want to stay, but I am compelled to leave.

Heavener Again

Yes, it’s a cycle.  I’m back in Heanver on my way north, and now that the sun is really up, I’m going to get some more shots before proceeding northward.

Here’s the shop and the local and-or yard power again.

Let’s go around to the other end of the yard to see what’s happening there.

I guess that’s the same grain train that we saw earlier.

Hey, check out the former Chicago & Northwestern unit still in CNW paint working as the pusher on this coal train!

And check out this northbound H-train with the two grey SD70MACs – my favorite of the wide-nose units on the KCS roster – with a switcher in the Heritage paint scheme tucked in behind it.

You’ll see a similar scene later on today.

The View From Atop The Hill

I think that I introduced The Shadow Warrior to the Heavener Runestone State park when The Mid-City Marine and I came here in February 2007.

You’ve already seen that tank and that pasture from where those mobile homes are.

Here’s the yard and the Green Country Inn.

I recall that Shawn had not been to the top of the hill before, and I remember well the three of us taking pictures from up there that day in February 2007.  It’s still hard to believe that he’s gone, and it’s humbling.

Here’s a view of the diesel tanks.

I really love the view from up here, but everything including life is temporary, and it’s time to get down so that we can head north.

Can We Leave Town Already?

First, we take a look at the yard office.

I was quite fat – for my own standards – when I made this trip, and this self-portrait in a storefront shows it.

I hadn’t noticed until after I processed this picture that the vase is giving me the bird.  Nice.

Los Heaveñeros

There is a substantial population of Hispanics in Heavener, and judging by the signs, I guess they are mostly Mexican.

There are probably some of you who will look at the sign and think that it says something about Hispanic culture, but take a step back and realize that it’s just about human culture in general; it’s just a beer advertisement, no more stupid and no less stupid than the beer advertisements that you are accustomed to seeing in English, and, language aside, no different either.

Okay, now we’re really getting out of town.  I probably had lunch at Braum’s in Poteau.  Yes, I guess at least in that regard, I’m as predictable as I am pathetic.  Oh, well.

Intermission

For those of you who need to take a break in the middle of this very long post, now would be a good time to walk away from the computer and pull the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer, make a salad, or do something like that.  Don’t forget to come back, though!

Northwestern Arkansas

Now is the part of the trip in which we really don’t mess around.  I really don’t remember anything after Poteau.  All I remember is that while driving, I did this:

I had to stop in Fayetteville to get fuel, and just in the brief time I was there, I saw plenty of young people on scooters.  So, I had to get a shot.

Heh, Chic-Fil-A, a few months before it became the center of a media-fomented outrage, and for good reason.

There’s some prosperity – or “development” – to this place, it seems.

I stopped in Springdale, and, yes, I did see and even photograph ALCos, but the lighting was terrible, and I had no time to jack around.  So, here is the headquarters of the Arkansas & Missouri Railroad.

Going through Springdale brought back some memories.

Obligatory Missouri Picture

Although not in the title of this post, I did go through southwestern Missouri to get from Heavener to Kansas, as is my custom.  The below image is otherwise not worth presenting, but it shows that I did take one DSLR picture in Missouri on the way north in addition to the cell-phone snap while driving that you might have seen.

Yes, that’s a southbound loaded KCS coal train through Joplin.

If you want more Missouri pictures, you’re out of luck for today, but there will be some more on the return southward.

Kansas, Pittsburg, That Is

It was my first time in Kansas since the roundhouse at Pittsburg, seen here in some of my June 2007 photos, had been demolished.

That’s the shortline train at the left, with the big units being DPUs that are added here to southbound trains and removed from northbound trains.

There’s a train moving in the foreground, doing some switching, and it appears to be a southbound.  Let’s head south to seek the head end.

Yes, we’re at the location of the former KCS passenger station, which, according to retired KCS marketing man and current Kansas City Southern Historical Society member Gerald Hook, was razed within weeks after the last passenger train ran here in late 1969, due to Kansas’s “onerous” tax laws, which at one time had prompted KCS to seek a routing that avoided the state of Kansas entirely.

Anyway, this is train QKCNL – Quality (high priority), Kansas City to Nuevo Laredo – stopped here to do some switching, I think to add DPUs.

Do you see the slab where the passenger depot once was?  That also looks like the remains of a passenger platform.  Check out some really old pictures of the area here.

I told you that you’d see a Heritage switcher tucked in behind grey SD70MACs again today!

Yeah, I didn’t like that truck trailer parked right there, so close to the track.

Damn, how many more pictures of the head end of this train at this location do we need?

Apparently, we need enough to get some locals walking by in the shot.

Well, that’s different.

Well, This Is Better

I should not have waited until I heard that the train was ready to depart before getting in position for my overhead departure shot.  What you see here required this then-fat boy to sprint up an overpass to the point of hyperventilation.

I hope that you like the results.  The below shot is perhaps my shot of the day.

Yes, sir, I like it, plenty.  Highly satisfied with the above image, I prepared to leave town, but I wanted to get one last shot of this train so that we could learn something about it.

This Photo Is For Educational Purposes Only

You are in no way expected to derive any pleasure from looking at the below photo, which I took near the hospital on the southern side of town.

I present this image only to show you that the DPU separates the carload parts of the train from the intermodal part, in this case, eleven wells, their destinations a mystery to me, but probably either Rosenberg or somewhere in Mexico, perhaps Nuevo Laredo.

The Home Stretch To El Rancho Grumpo

My photographic goals of the day now met, it’s time to set course for El Rancho Grumpo, where I’d be spending the night in anticipation of foaming with The Grumpster the next morning.

Now, things started to feel plainsy, as the roads were mostly along section lines, the skies were wide and blue, the air was cool and dry; ’twas an enjoyable drive indeed, I must say.

Yes, Toto, we are in Kansas now.

I did make a few brief stops for impromptu photography, the first being here at a plainsy cemetery at Lone Elm.

Here in Garnett is a southward view of what is now a bicycle trail but was once Santa Fe’s line from Kansas City to Tulsa.

I’m getting hungry, and I also don’t want to make the Grumpster wait, but since he’s a foamer, he understands the need to get shots before dark.  As I told you, I really love a Great Plains sky.

I guess there was some late-afternoon witch burning taking place to the west here.

That was good.  I stopped at the Subway in Ottawa to get some badly-needed food, texting Grumpy the whole time.

El Rancho Grumpo

Damn, that nilla has a nice house!  It was late when I got there, but I got to see the house, talk to Grumpy and The Sarge, and then crash in the nice guest bedroom.

Do you see my DeLorme Kansas map on the bed next the old camera and the 70-200mm/f2.8 lens?  I had better get some sleep.  The next morning, it would be early to rise to get trackside on the Transcon.

Wow, are you still reading this?  You made it this far through without giving up?  We’re done!  However, we have even more pictures tomorrow.  That’s what foaming on Toto’s Transcon with Grumpy will do.  Stay tuned, as there’s more to tomorrow than just the Transcon; you’ll see a few surprises.

Jimbaux

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Greetings, everyone, and welcome to Day 1 of Jimbaux’s spring 2012 road trip to the upper-lower parts of the valleys of the Arkansas and the Missouri, for lack of a better way of describing the area and the trip trajectory.

Let’s just cut the chit-chat and get right to it.  After getting the boringness of I-49 behind me, about five or six hours into the trip, I first take out the camera in the northern part of Shreveport at the KCS yard, a place that The Shadow Warrior, who would meet his untimely end one-year-minus-two-days after these pictures were taken, first showed me in 2003 on our way to Rich Mountain.

Here are a couple of switchers working the southern end of the yard.

Moving right along, on the other side of the yard, we see the crew office.

I was part of a group that got to tour the facilities in June 2006.  So, too, was The Shadow Warrior.  He had a big impact on me and the work that you see here, as I reported the night that he died.

There was plenty of stuff to photograph at the yard, and I photographed more than you see here, but in the interest of both continuing to my destination and not making this post too long, we need to go; before we do, let’s see some SD40-2s in the northern corner of the property.

Okay, let’s go.  The northwestern corner of Louisiana has long been known for oil production, as evidenced by this active well at Vivian.

Our last stop in the state of Louisiana is the last possible stop in the state of Louisiana.  It’s also the first possible stop in Arkansas, all while stopping in Texas too!

Yes, as many of you saw already, this is the tripoint marker for the point at which Louisiana, Arkansas, and Texas meet.  The description with the aforelinked picture should suffice.

Though lamenting the passage of The Shadow Warrior, when I look at this tripoint marker, I am reminded of the loss of another friend a year-and-a-half before these pictures were taken.

If confronted with it, I will call out people’s stupidity – like, for example, their belief that any person should be punished for behavior that doesn’t harm them – but I don’t intend to disrespect anyone.

I’m an ardent follower of the “Amicus Plato, sed magis amica veritas” mentality, which can lead to fallings out but which means that the relationships that remain are genuine.  The Shadow Warrior’s death reminded me of that fact, as does thoughts of another friend upon looking at these tripoint pictures.

Now in Texas, we stop at Bloomburg and see a few sites.

The KCS passes through Bloomburg.  What do you think of the KCS?

This is all that I see of the town.  I don’t have time to stay.  I can’t see every town, as I will die one day too.

Next, we see the cities of Texarkana, both of them!  As their names imply, the Texarkanas are sister cities in Arkansas and Texas, respectively, bordering each other along a part of those states’ border.

We’re in Arkansas in the above picture, but the border between the two states is right in the middle of that big street, aptly-named “State Line Avenue,” and that’s the Bi-State court building in the background.

The below two pictures were taken in both Texas and Arkansas as we look northward on State Line Avenue.

I guess since the shutter button is on the right side of the camera, maybe I “took the picture” in Arkansas, but, whatever.

It’s not long before we are in the city of Ashdown, a place that The Shadow Warrior showed me in 2003.  The Kiamichi Railroad is an interesting shortline railroad using a former secondary mainline of the Frisco, but these blue lease things aren’t nearly as cool as the old home road power that was seen here in years past.

Further north, we stop to see a pastoral scene at Bellville.

Where are we, anyway?

Well, soon, we’ll be in DeQueen, and, now, we are, looking down the DeQueen & Eastern Railroad toward the diamond with the KCS.  Do you see the KCS mainline in the background?

Radio chatter indicated that there was an H-train in town, but I couldn’t tell which one, the northbound or the southbound.  A reconnaissance of the yard revealed the southbound H-train doing some work and preparing to leave.  So, that’s why I was set up here for a shot, which I eventually got even though the clouds rolled just a few seconds too soon.

Do you see the DeQueen & Eastern track at the left?

A camera records really ugly results when what you’re photographing is suddenly shaded while the sky in the background is still bright.  I did the best I could to rescue these shots in Photoshop, and I guess the results are okay.  What do you think?

Thanks.  Yes, thanks for telling me what you think, not thanks for telling me that the shot is great, or even that the shot is terrible.  In keeping with the “Amicus Plato, sed magis amica veritas” mentality, I’d much prefer honest feedback than the fake “your pictures are so cool” comments that just litter so many of the pages of these so-called photographers who do portraiture work.

Our next stop is Wickes, where we stop to take a picture of a soon-to-be-here southbound loaded coal train, and we take the ladder out of the rental car to get some elevation.  Yes, I was in a rental car because my truck had a broken transmission, and I just could not postpone this trip and didn’t want to cancel it.

Anyway, since the back hatch is open, let’s have a look at the contents of this rental car so that we can see what Jimbaux brings along to travel.

I was well-prepared.  Some of those beverages were to be shared and consumed with friends at whose houses I would stay.

Yeah, okay, and y’all saw my picture last year on the Facebook page of the C-KCWE, but here it is again.

Obviously, having a train in the siding here instead of on the main track would make a better shot, and Whiskey, another friend, and I did five-and-a-half years earlier.

Our next stop is in the little town of Cove, with its really neat little old town well.

The view below shows the KCS mainline in the foreground.  Isn’t this neat?

From Cove, I went west across the back of the mountain, some real recreational driving, then checked out Page before finally arriving in Heavener, a terminal on the KCS.

Heavener really is a railroad town, a rarity in the 21st Century.  Here is part of the old downtown, a neat place.

I like the town water tower.

There was an MofW worker at work in the southern part of the yard.

I guess that’s the power for the Fort Smith Dodger parked by the shop.

Let’s drive around to the other side of the yard again while we still can.  I think that I checked in to the hotel between the above photos and the below photos, but I don’t really remember.

Some children were at play in this little neighborhood of mostly mobile homes east of the yard.

Okay, yes, maybe we can get the cows, the water tank, and sky (and the top of the hill) all in one shot.

Let’s return to the fuel racks.

It looks like KCS is now running 1×1 manifest trains!

Here’s the view of the water tank and the Southern Belle restaurant – named for the passenger train that KCS ran from Kansas City to New Orleans until November 1969 – from the hotel.

Nope.  I didn’t eat there, not this time.  After a long Day 1 of the journey, it was time to head to Poteau to go eat at Braum’s!  On the way there, we grab one last picture.

Yep, we’re not in southern Louisiana anymore.  I hope that you have been simultaneously educated and entertained by the photographic fruit of Day 1 of Jimbaux’s 2012 road trip up the corridor of the Texas-Louisiana, Oklahoma-Arkansas, Kansas-Missouri, Nebraska-Iowa borders, or, put another way, I hope that you can vicariously be educated and entertained by the photos that I took in the process of being so educated (even though I had been to most of these places several times before) and entertained.  If you have a question or have some information to offer, please use the comments section below.

Thank you.

Jimbaux

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So, y’all liked those 2006 northern-central Texas pictures?  Well, I did too, and it made me miss being in places like that.  Tonight, I’ll take you back even further, to the latter half of 2005 to the very beginning of my DSLR camera days, and we’re going to go across the length of the “Lower 48″ US map here.  I hope that you enjoy this different look back at different times and places, but please be ready for a big influx of content here on Jimbaux’s Journal this weekend with the first two days of Jimbaux’s 2012 road trip.  I’m probably only going to have time this year to publish the first two days of the trip.  If my back heals quickly, I may make some significant travels in 2013 before you see any more than the first two days of the 2012 travels.

Wow, I just learned of the death of the Shadow Warrior, my erstwhile New Orleans railroad enthusiast friend.  Both somewhat ornery types (hey, I can admit it), we hadn’t really been in communication in nearly five years (which is also about the last time I went to any formal gathering of railroad enthusiasts), but I’m grateful to have known him, as it was 10 years ago last month that he introduced me to Rich Mountain.  I learned plenty from knowing him, and his legacy lives on not only in my work that I share here, but also in the many images and stories that he left, as well as the help he gave on KCS’s Holiday Express train.

Wow, and here I am about to post some images this weekend taken one year ago on my trip, a trip where I visited placed to which Shawn introduced me.  Danebster was right; this is a real “kick in the gut.”  I can only imagine how sad his mother is now.  Shawn introduced me to more than just Rich Mountain and many places I now frequently photograph and visit in New Orleans.  He (and MidSouth1069) introduced me to radio scanning, evidence of which you can see in most postings here.

Damn, I can hardly write right now, and here I am about to make a virtual trip way back to 2005 with this post.  Even though we hadn’t talked in a few years (a situation that wasn’t unique for either of us, and, yes, at least part of it was my own inability to be always be a good friend), this is really heavy.  The recent and ongoing situation with my back has been humbling enough, for better and for worse, as I was just discussing this with my head compañero who called me on the telephone this evening, and now this has happened.  Why is it that only upon his death do I think about the effect that he has had on me? or is it only now that I’m feeling such gratitude for it?  Have I been too proud?  I guess this is a normal human emotional experience, like when my grandmother died in the fall.  I still think about her every day.

I guess we all need a good humbling once in awhile, and perhaps a little bit more frequently than once in awhile.

Life Goes On, But Only For So Long

I guess I’ll have more to say – or keep to myself – about this later.  I just need to process it.

Here, I present to you the very first digital SLR picture that I took, right after my first Canon Rebel arrived via UPS at the beginning of July 2005.  Wow, when I went digital, I got advice from Shawn, who had recently started shooting Canon DSLR.  Anyway, after taking one self-portrait in the bathroom mirror, I proceeded trackside to see what I could find, and I took my first-ever DSLR train picture – and my second-ever DSLR picture – of the westbound Chip Local!  How appropriate is that?

Actually, back then, Chip wasn’t really significant to me.  Like many things, like my homeland, I took him for granted.  Only being away from the area for six months two years ago made me really appreciate what I have here like I never had before, and, wow, I guess that’s even more true with the big news tonight.

It took me awhile to catch on to digital photography, perhaps a couple of years.  Here’s the unprocessed and raw version of the above image, the only thing done to it is resizing it to match the dimensions of the above-presented image.

Yeah, I learned over time to be more diligent with my composition, but I still go a little bit wider than I need to go so that I can crop out anything that’s not right, especially if I need to rotate things.

Two weeks later, I got this image of a passenger waiting for a very late eastbound Sunset Limited in Schriever, the last stop before New Orleans.

Yes, such was life on the Sunset Limited; the schedule has been changed at least twice since then.

Actually, even though I took this picture, and even though I do remember taking this picture nearly eight years ago, I had to do a bit of head-scratching as I dug it out of the folder in preparation for this post.  I was wondering why someone would be waiting to board the eastbound Sunset Limited in Schriever, since it’s the last stop before the train ends in New Orleans, 55 miles to the east, but then I remembered that this picture was taken less than two months before Hurricane Katrina, and that prior to that, the Sunset Limited went to Florida.

I could launch into a long explanation of Jimbaux’s plan for High-Speed-Rail in the United States of America, but I don’t have the time now, and, given the news of the evening, don’t have the inclination either.  I processed these shots yesterday to put into this post tonight, not at all knowing the news that would overshadow and influence the narrative.

One week later, one week after the above image was taken, we are very far away from Schriever, very far away from Louisiana.  We’re still in the United States, but Canada is in the background of this photo.

Yes, we’re in Maine on the Montreal, Maine & Atlantic Railway, and the St. John River here forms the border between the USA and Canada.  We’re looking at a westbound MMA train east of Madawaska, Maine, and Edmunston, New Brunswick, where I would spend this night.

How about that Bangor & Aroostok boxcar?  I think that this line might actually be inactive now.  Five years later, I would get some shots on the MM&A in Quebec.

I started a new job in the New Orleans area not long after that picture was taken, just in time for Hurricane Katrina to strike and upend the worlds of many of us.  Shortly after the New Orleans airport reopened in late September, I flew out on a badly-needed escape from the madness.  I flew to California, where I was hosted by The Sky King.  He was a great host, and he took me to many places, including here.

Yes, that’s the old Santa Fe depot at Hemet, California.  The Golden State is somewhat enigmatic to me.  Maybe it’s like that to many people.  I don’t know.

We then went to Cajón Pass, but we checked out San Bernardino too.  Here’s the Metrolink.

You know, since I’m in southern California, I get to check out some of the places of the heartland of the beloved railroad of my youth, the Southern Pacific.  I grew up along branchlines on its eastern extremity, but now I’m in its home state, and I may get fortunate to see some SP power still roaming the now-UP-owned rails.  So, The Sky King took me to West Colton, where I could observe the action.

Ewww, yuck!  Oh, those dirty locomotives of my youth seem so clean now!  These particular paint jobs are not worth preserving.  Please sandblast these things and give them a coat of armour yellow and be done with it!

Actually, I like UP now much better than I did back then.  It helps that not only are the locomotives generally cleaner today but that the railroad itself is run quite well, it seems.

Here’s The Sky King’s young pet clamoring for attention.

Well, that’s nice.  Oh, and, remember, caption information for all images can be found in the filenames of each image, which can be found by moving your cursor over the picture.

Back home and back to work a month later, I’m in the Baton Rouge area, and I see UP’s River Job out of Livonia climbing the Mississippi River bridge on its way toward CN’s North Baton Rouge Yard to do interchange there.

Well, even in 2005, UP had some clean power on this job, and I don’t think that you’ll see solid SD40-2s on this job anymore.

That’s the end of this trip back into the middle of last decade.  What did you think?

Miscellany

I had intended to write a bunch of miscellaneous stuff in this post, but I now just don’t feel like it, for reasons that should be obvious.

“Still Alive”?

Yeah, wow, I just looked back at the headline I made for this post and how eerily foreshadowing that it was.  I made the headline and wrote the complete first paragraph before reading a message on one of the forums about Shawn’s passing.  The headline was meant to reflect my own situation with my spine, but I guess it has taken on new meaning.  Shawn was known as a good photographer, and his images are still here.  I, too, hope that my images outlast me.

Anyway, I’ve just posted a shot I took of Shawn doing his thing on Rich Mountain.  Thanks, Shawn.

E-mail, Please, Not Facebook

Many readers lately have been writing to me.  That’s cool, but many of them have been using Facebook to do it, which I don’t particularly like.  Writing an e-mail to me at AskJimbaux “at” Gmail.com is a much better way, simply because to reply to you, I don’t have to type in some little bitty box on a site that I cannot and do not access as often as I access e-mail.

And The Grumpster Says . . .

Grumpy, too, talks about preserving his images for the ages after his own demise in his latest post, but what I really like from that post is his two pictures and his description of the event with someone damaging his truck and his commentary on it!  Thoughts?

More To Come

Well, I’ve done plenty of foreshadowing of what is to come this weekend.  So, stay tuned, and, remember, if I’ve ever pissed off any of you, it wasn’t my intention.  I hope that you are well.  Remember to let go and live and love.  Thank you.

Jimbaux

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These railroad pictures were taken on 28 March 2008 in the New Orleans area.

Photographing Military Trains Is Nothing New Nor Outrageous

We’ll start with a military train making its way from the BNSF to the CSX.  The train has a BNSF crew at this point, but not for much longer, as it is on CSX rails almost into CSX’s Gentilly Yard in New Orleans.

This is train U-BNTNWO1-27, originating in Beaumont, Texas.  A BNSF shuttle crew is aboard.  The train traversed BNSF’s ex-SP Lafayette Subdivision to get to New Orleans and passed through the eastern end of the subdivision just before the line was shut down for a few hours due to a train colliding with a truck in Paradís.

What are these things?  They look like some sort of amphibious assault craft.

The next view looks eastward across the New Orleans Public Belt Railroad branch and across the Inner Harbor Navigational Canal into CSX’s Gentilly Yard.

Okay, that’s enough of that.

Rare Mileage, Even On Home Rails

Over to the west, an NOPB job on its way to CN Mays Yard stalled, necessitating the assistance of a locomotive and crew out of that railroad’s yard to come and drag it across.  What’s really weird about the below image is that even though CN owns this track, this is about the only time I’ve ever seen a CN locomotive leading a westbound train on this section of track across Central Avenue.

Do you see the black lease NOPB locomotive behind the CN unit?

Yes, sometimes, CN trains and crews cross Central Avenue on this track coming from the yard just to shove back into a track, but this scene here is rare.  It happens a few times a week with the few remaining customers east of here, but that job almost always runs in the middle of the night.

Anyway, here’s one more view of this train, this one as it’s going into the yard, and you can see Mays Tower in the background.

This image was “stolen” from me and posted by some website I won’t name.  These guys have a site with some cool information, I definitely don’t mind promoting other people’s sites to my readers, and I wouldn’t even be against these guys using my image, but I got no response from them when I raised the issue of my image being used without my permission; so, those guys will get no help from me either.  You know who you are, too.

A Rare Bird Indeed

Here it is, the only Gateway Eastern unit, and the only time that I ever saw it.

That was in the KCS yard, and I think that that thing has been repainted by now.  If you know of this unit’s whereabouts and disposition, please post such in the comments section.

That’s all for now.

Jimbaux

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No, there aren’t 2,006 pictures in this post.  There are only five.  They were just all taken in the year 2006, June 2006 to be specific, and all on a trip to Texas and northern Louisiana.  Texas has been on my mind plenty lately, especially northeastern Texas, though plenty has been on my mind lately, including what my future will be like as dictated by conditions in my lumbar region.  I really don’t feel like talking much more about that right now, though.  I’ve had to think about it enough, constantly, really, and these pictures are a little diversion from that.

We start in Justin, Texas, north of Fort Worth, and just north of BNSF’s Alliance Yard, from which this train is emerging onto the former Santa Fe route into Oklahoma and Kansas from Texas.

Yes, those two hopper cars behind the power are on flatcars, and, yes, those are automobile frames behind them.  My homie and I proceeded to chase this thing north a ways and eventually intercepted some nice southbounds, but, in the meantime, I shot a few pictures from the passenger side, including this view of some neat old rolling stock.

How about that?  This is the only time I recall ever shooting a Frisco car (even though it is lettered for BN), and that’s not even true, since I don’t even remember seeing this.

Nearly an hour later, after we had shot at least one more southbound, and after getting some nice “oncoming” shots of this train with these new Ferromex SD70ACes apparently in the process of being delivered to their home rails (perhaps via Eagle Pass), I got this going-away view of the head end of the H-TULTPL (High Priority Manifest – Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Temple, Texas) near Krum.

That was fun.

The next day, we were out on the Wichita Falls Sub, the first district of the old Fort Worth & Denver Railroad, a line that I find to be fascinating beyond the parts that I was able to visit in 2006 (or any time since 2001, unfortunately.)  Here’s an empty coal train heading northwest, seen here some twenty-odd miles into the subdivision on its long journey back to the Jacobs Ranch Mine in Wyoming.

Yep, we’re really not in southern Louisiana anymore, but, soon, we’ll be back in northern Louisiana where we’ll see plenty of Kansas City Southern Railway action, including this view in Shreveport yard as part of a guided tour.

Yeah, check out those Gateway Western units.  I’d see plenty of them on this 2006 trip.  In any case, the above picture is a preview of things to come, as this Saturday I will be publishing Day 1 of my March-April-2012 trip up the KCS corridor and the Missouri Valley.  Stay tuned, as there will be plenty of interesting stuff to see!

That’s really all that I have to say for now.  I know that there are some recent incidents of court cases and arrests involving railroad photography, but right now, I don’t have the stomach – well, actually, the spine – to comment on them or concern myself much with them.  In any case, I hope that all of you are well, or as well as you can be.

Merci,

Jimbaux

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[Jimbaux never cared for what they do, never cared for what they say . . . ]

The only driving of an automobile (or being inside of one at all) that I’ve done for the last two weeks has been to and from medical appointments and to procure food when I’m not smart enough to do such when I’m returning from a medical appointment.  By the time you read this, Jimbaux will be experiencing what will be his first MRI.

Monday March Madness

It’s now more painful for me to sit down than it is to stand up (unless it’s standing up for a really long time), meaning that driving is something that I avoid doing, as I’ve already mentioned, but that I’m now able to take short walks without any immediate or yet-noticeable problems.  The pain is mostly manageable now, but the underlying problem is still not totally-understood (hence the purpose of the MRI) and still needs to be fixed.  In any case, after my Monday orthopedist appointment, despite the need to get home, since I was already driving around, and since my condition has really caused me some cabin fever, I tried to get a few shots as I was driving.

What appeared to be the NS 345 was getting recrewed (with a UP) crew on the NS Back Belt at Bayou St. John, and, making the right turn on red from the southern base of the bridge when there would not be anyone in the area visible behind me, I decided to attempt this shot while sitting down for the first time, and despite the need to cantilever the telephoto lens while holding the camera with only one hand, I think that it turned out okay:

Okay, let’s get out of here.

Oh, by the way, how are you doing?  Thanks for dropping by.  Yes, this back situation makes me feel like an old man in so many ways, but I know that many of you have probably had many of your own similar problems.

Here’s an NOPB switcher in the KCS yard, if you’re into that sort of thing, or even if you aren’t into that sort of thing.

A few months from now, I have some travel that I plan to do and about which I am excited, but this back situation may force a cancellation.  I hope that I can get well enough before then.

This shot of the Z-train right by Raising Cane’s is just a coincidence that happened nearly five years to the day after I made some similar (and better) shots, including one from inside the restaurant.

Yes, I know that it’s lame, but it was really all that I could do – and all that I can do now – and that’s the point; it became even more important once I realized shortly thereafter that by the end of this month, the Union Pacific and CSX will no longer be routing the Atlanta to/from Los Angeles traffic on the Z-trains via New Orleans, instead sending them through the Memphis gateway.

Speaking of Traveling And Taking Pictures, Part 1

Do y’all remember how last spring I took a trip up across the Ouachita Mountains, across the Arkansas River, through the Ozark Mountains, across eastern Kansas, including foaming with Grumpy, and into the valley of the Missouri River in Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota, and Minnesota?  Well, hardly any of the many pictures from that trip have ever been seen, as I just didn’t have time to process the shots once I returned, but since it’s my custom to post pictures on anniversary dates, and since I’ve been largely confined for the last few weeks, I will be posting at least some of the days of that trip soon.  So, be on the lookout for those.

There is, however, one problem: the sheer quantity of presentable pictures.  I don’t really know how to address that.  I could simply put 50 pictures in each day’s post, but that would chew up my bandwidth, and it would be “too much of a good thing” for you, meaning you’d get aggravated and not finish reading each post (or maybe you would.)  I’m not really sure what to do about this problem.  I could put second-rate pictures in albums on the Facebook fan page, but that would break up the continuity of the chronological presentation of the photos.

I would like to hear your thoughts on this, even though I’ve actually already completed all of the shots for Day 1 of the trip!  I addressed the problem two ways: 1.) not saving at the size 8 jpegs that I normally save in Photoshop, meaning that some of the images will be a little bit fuzzier than I’d like, and 2.) by not making all of them at the maximum 934-pixel-width.  I’ve done both with some of the images in this post too.

Because I was in areas that I rarely visit, including many that I visited for the first time, I photographed many things that I wouldn’t photograph if I lived in those areas, just like there are many things that I only occasionally photograph in southern Louisiana.

At the rate that I’m going, though, and considering other things that I will have to do in the next few weeks, I doubt that I will complete all of the shots from that trip, meaning you probably won’t get to see the pictures from my visit to the flood-devastated areas from the Missouri Valley for perhaps another two or four years, considering my posting patterns of much of the last year!

Speaking of Traveling And Taking Pictures, Part 2

Back problems may not be the only thing that might sabotage upcoming travel plans.  The simple issue of monetary cost might might preclude a trip, but I ask for your advice on how to use my talents to fund a trip that will use those same talents to make memorable, meaningful, and useful images; please bare with me in this circuitous explanation, and I invite your comments.

A friend and I were discussing a few days ago not only my possible upcoming travel but how it would probably involve the patronizing of regional fast food establishments, like the Louisiana-originated Raising Cane’s that you see in this and the prior posts, like Whataburger in Texas and environs, like Braum’s in Oklahoma and environs, and like Culver’s in the Upper Midwest (and where I ate a few times in South Dakota last year.)

“What if you could get Cane’s [or one of those other eateries] to sponsor your trip,” my friend said, half-jokingly, adding that I’d have “This trip and these pictures sponsored by Raising Cane’s” written on every post from that trip.

Wow, interesting!  Now, let’s expand that to any kind of sponsorship, like that of corporations or organization that award grants to artists.  Do any of you know anything about this?  Do any of you work for such an organization?  Or, if you work for a regular for-profit corporation, does it have a, for lack of a better term, “philanthropy department”?  Perhaps such an agreement would include me allowing the donating organization to use for its own purposes some of the pictures that I make on the trip for which funds were donated, ideally with credit to me and links back to my site(s).

I know that many of you find a value in my work beyond just a pretty picture.  I hope that my pictures educate as much as they entertain, make you think as much as they make you smile, and a big theme of my work is to show the things that you otherwise would not see, to get past the pervasive “shut up and consume” mentality.  That is basic geography education.

My upcoming travel plans take me to probably no more than two general areas, but if I had more cash, I’d expand that!  I wouldn’t ask to be “paid” to take the trip (though that would really be great if it could happen), but do you know of any way that I could get flight costs, rental car costs, hotel costs (which I probably won’t need if I go to only the two areas that I mention, since I’d be staying with people I know), and perhaps gasoline costs reimbursed or outright paid for through some short of grant partnership or something? along with me willingly stamping that organization’s name and website throughout the posts covering the areas where the travel was made and linking to that company’s Facebook page in my Facebook posts on the matter?

Joycelyn and I recently discussed this topic in our mid-February meeting, but neither of us have made much headway, apparently.

Thanks.

Thursday March Madness

. . . because I’m apparently incapable of making alliteration using the word “Thursday” and can’t think of anything that rhymes with it either.

Anyway, here’s what I saw after physical therapy and a trip to the grocery store on Thursday.  A job of the New Orleans Public Belt Railroad was at Southport Junction, and I got out to take some pictures, which is good, since, as I said, sitting in an automobile for more than a few minutes is quite painful for me now (but not nearly as bad as it was two weeks ago.)

Cue the foamy indignation from some viewers in three . . . two . . . one . . .

Actually, in the above picture there are indeed some wrongs.  The automobile should have its headlights on, as I’ve told you once and I’ve told you twice, and the locomotive probably should not have its ditch lights on, since the train was stopped.

To my surprise, after a few blasts of the horn, the train started to shove back.  What?  What kind of switching could possibly be done on this line?

Yes, those are two UP-yellow locomotives behind the BNSF power.  I’m not really sure what’s happening here.

Since I needed to lie down and since I had perishable groceries in my truck, I didn’t bother to go and check to see if the crossing at Jefferson Highway was blocked.

That’s all that we have for this episode, and that’s a good thing anyway.

Until next time, take care of your back.

Regards,

Jimbaux

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