But The Humans Make Too Damn Much Noise
The cool weather finally arrived overnight; so, today, Saturday 16 October 2021, I decided to celebrate by making a bit of a Saturday sermon by hanging out by the track in New Iberia. That’s plenty of “by”s in one clause in one sentence!
I saw the LDRR 1536 at the shops on Saint Mary Street, and I think that it’s the first time that I lay eyes on that locomotive. Supposedly, L&D is getting a ‘new’ locomotive soon, some GP38-2, which will make things slightly less dull around here.
I got some food from Raising Cane’s, the first time that I have Cane’s food in a long time, probably about half a year, maybe more than that.
The serving from Cane’s are getting more expensive and smaller, but maybe that’s true of other places, too.
Not long after I got to West End Park, there was simultaneous action on the siding and the mainline here, as a Louisiana & Delta Railroad job was shoving one cut of cars to another on the siding while an eastbound BNSF Railway manifest train was passing on the mainline.
Let’s see a cropped version of that, so that we can see the L&D trainman waving at the BNSF crew.
Yeah, something is really wrong with that lens of mine.
Yes, the LDRR 1717, which I think is now, with the retirement of the last of the CF7s, the most interesting locomotive on the L&D roster is doing the work here.
I like that the Norfolk Southern Railway locomotive is adding some variety to an increasingly dull New Iberia railroad scene.
I ate my Cane’s food and then left West End Park as soon as I was done eating, because there was some social event there playing obnoxiously loud music. There was no way that I was going to get any reading or meditation done under those conditions.
Almost 90 minutes later, probably after (but maybe before) reading some of Tcherneva’s Job Guarantee book and after taking a quick walk around the block formed by Railroad Avenue, Jefferson Street, and both directional lanes of Highway 182, I made these pictures of Railroad Avenue.
There was once a short railroad spur down the other side of the street, and I find it interesting and wish that it were still there.
Here is the depot.
There is so much potential for better use of such assets, if we could just kill taxpayerism.
It’s a neat old building, and I am fortunate to be able to walk around it in relative peace, but there are some more dirtbags nearby obnoxiously blasting music loudly.
It will be 20 years next November, I think, that I first came here to New Iberia, to the depot, as opposed to just pass through on the highway, to check out the railroad scene here, in a gathering of railroad enthusiasts. Damn, I feel old.
Here is a picture from the tablet computer.
This slightly uneasy place is where I got some reading done. I was thinking about how people think that working for the government, like with Amtrak, is some easy job wherein people have no real incentive to grow the franchise, but I think that all Amtrak employees have an incentive to do things that maintain existing ridership and attract new ridership, because reduced rates of ridership strengthen the case for abolish some or all Amtrak jobs.
I also got some walking done, which was great.
There is some obnoxiously loud music around here, which is not great.
Schriever is the best place on the Sunset Route in Louisiana for the purpose that I am trying to achieve here. It may be the best place in all of southern Louisiana for those purposes. Central Avenue has too many people, as does Bayou Saint John.
I am thinking, though, that my perception of what my purposes at Schriever were were a function of what the place allowed me to do (and prohibited me from doing), which I realize is a “supply creates demand” argument, which is very inconvenient, but maybe that’s okay.
Really, the only places that I can imagine that come close are Ashdown and Heavener and Chama and Antonito, and, I presume, Alamosa. Maybe Bellows Falls, Boston Barr, and Jasper, too.
I waited patiently for the UP local to come. Shortly before 18:52, I heard horns; then I saw a headlight. Yay, even if I don’t get a good picture, because it’s too dark, at least I’ll get to see the train and have an idea of what the return trip tomorrow will look like, right?
Imagine my disappointment when I saw this.
Yeah, that ain’t the UP local, hoss.
Anyway, that’s all for the pictures for today. I actually stayed there for another hour, hoping to see the UP local train and getting some needed steps in in the process. While I was there, some guy who said that he lived nearby and liked trains stopped to ask me about the Sunset Limited, if I was waiting on it. I said that the westbound train would have passed here at about midday. He said that he lived nearby and had model trains, but he didn’t seem to know much about local railroad operations and didn’t know who Perry was. Oh, well.
I was hearing bass thumping coming from I don’t know where, really feeling it more than I was hearing it, which is why I cannot discern the location from which it’s coming, except to say that I think it’s coming from the northeast of the train depot where I’ve been for the last few hours.
This is annoying and discouraging for the prospect of future Saturdays by the track in New Iberia.
I have plenty to say about New Iberia. I was thinking about how it was 19 years ago next month that I first went there (off of Highway 90), as I said before, but that’s all for now. I’ll be back soon, and, hopefully, I’ll hang out with The Mid-City Marine next weekend in Schriever!
Jim
