Off topic, but 30 years ago I had the rare pleasure of quail hunting from horseback on a huge plantation in Mississippi, with the owner of the land. He talked just like Foghorn Leghorn.
There was a big railroad track running across the property, with a huge cotton field on each side. The cotton was all in bloom, with the huge white boughs all puffed out.
Well, we were hunting on the edge of the land, and I heard the train coming. I pulled my horse to a halt, and asked him whether the train coming through would spook the horses. He said, "**** no, but get ready."
So a freight train came barreling through, and we were about twenty yard from the track, off to one side, in one of the cotton fields.
As the train passed by, he took off at a gallop, racing the train. I followed along side. There we went, for about 400 yards, racing that train, with the beautiful white cotton floating beneath us like clouds, and the engineer laughing and blowing his whistle the whole way.
Probably the single best memory of my life, and the last one I"ll think about before I die.
I guess that's why I like to run my trains fast.