Yesterday I posted briefly along with some photographs about my ride behind 611. I mentioned that I wanted to say more but I wanted to let my thoughts simmer before posting again. Well, they've simmered. Finally being able to ride behind what I consider to be one of the most magnificent steam locomotives in U.S. history was literally a dream come true. A lot of thoughts ran through my mind during the course of the excursion and I thought it might be a nice gesture to share some of what I saw and felt with those unable to make the trip. It will be just a tad lengthy
, so please bear with me.
I have loved the Norfolk and Western Class J Northern since 1957 when I first saw the old Lionel Corporation's rendition of it in their 1957 catalog. It was the most beautiful engine my 10 year old eyes had ever seen. Far too expensive at the time it wasn't for many, many years before I was able to attain one. Of course, having a model is one thing but seeing the real thing is another and I wanted to see the real 611. During the 1980s and 1990s I was aware of the 611s various excursions but due to job and family responsibilities she always seemed to elude me. I always figured that someday the opportunity would present itself but in 1994 much to my bitter disappointment N&W retired her. I thought for sure my dream had come to an end.
For many years after 1994 I could only enjoy the 611 by watching it in train videos. I guessed that would have to do but last year I became aware that the Virginia Museum of Transportation along with Norfolk Southern would be resurrecting her and making her available for excursion runs under the moniker "Spirit Of Roanoke". I was overjoyed. Fully retired I would now be able to take my dream ride.
It took a very long time for 6/6/15 to arrive. In fact, it took so long I didn't wait until 6/6/15; I arrived in Manassas on 6/5/15. I headed straight for the train station in Old Town Manassas in hopes of catching an early glimpse of my favorite engine. After questioning some of the attendants at the station I learned that the 611 was parked on a siding a couple of miles away. I obtained the directions and immediately made a bee line for that siding. I could see her smoke and knew I was getting close but as I drew near I could see that she was sandwiched between some freight cars and a Norfolk Southern diesel and out of my line of sight. It was then that I was warned off by a railroad policeman who told me I would just have to wait until the next day to see her. Well, I never give up and I figured there had to be a way to get in closer. I scouted out the area surrounding the siding and found a spot where I could slip between two homes which were adjacent to the tracks just east of where the 611 was resting. I started down the tracks in a westerly direction and immediately came upon three couples who had the same idea I had. We all proceeded down the tracks until the 611 was in view with not a railroad cop in sight. We ventured a little closer but all we could see was her bullet shaped nose along with some of her consist for the next day's trip but that was good enough. We took some photographs of her as she spewed black smoke from her boiler and then we made off.
The next morning I was at the train station by 6:00 AM but much to my surprise there were already a lot of people milling around the station. Everyone was anxious to see the 'Spirit of Roanoke". In the early morning hours the sky was cloudy and mist hung in the air. I looked westward down the track where I knew the 611 was parked but the area was obscured by the mist and she was hidden from my view. For the next hour the crowd around the station continued to grow and one could easily sense the excitement. Everyone was looking down the tracks in anticipation of seeing her but almost like a sly black panther she remained out of sight hiding in her mist covered lair. Suddenly, unseen behind the mist came the sound of her haunting deep throated and soulful whistle. All eyes turned westward. Just a few seconds later the glimmer of her bright headlamp pierced the morning mist and you could hear the crowd murmur, "Here she comes". A Hollywood mogul could not have staged this scene better. Out of the mist the great locomotive burst into our sight with smoke belching from her stack and her whistle hooting. What a thrill. As she glided into the station a cheer rose from the crowd and amidst the din I heard what I believed to be the unmistakeable Rebel yell-YEEHAAHH! It seemed appropriate.
By 8:00 AM everyone was boarded, our attendants had introduced themselves and then we were off right on schedule. The 611 was pointed eastward so she had to back into the great wye so she could turn into the west. The task was quickly and smoothly accomplished. As we turned westward I was well aware that we would be covering some of this nation's most hallowed ground. Manassas, our starting point, was of course the sight of two bloody Union defeats during the Civil War. After leaving Manassas we would eventually be crossing U.S. Route 17 which is also known as History land Highway and for good reason. George Washington helped survey this area as a young man and Thomas Jefferson once stood on a rock which now bears his name at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia (formerly Virginia) and proclaimed the great gorge which was cut through the Appalachian Mountains by the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers to be the most beautiful spot in the world. Harpers Ferry is just a few miles north of Front Royal, Virginia which was to be our western most destination. Being a lover of trains and American history this trip was right up my alley.
It wasn't too long before we escaped the rusted graffiti covered hopper cars and the clutter of Manassas's track side businesses and junk yards and eased our way into the Virginia countryside. At first the tracks were bordered by heavy tree cover and little could be seen but eventually the trees gave way and we were able to view the rolling hills and verdant pastures of Northern Virginia. Much of the ground adjacent to our route was occupied by large farms well stocked with horses and cattle and it was a delight to see young colts and calves frolicking in the fields. A good deal of the country we saw was heavily forested and I strained to catch a glimpse of wildlife. Finally, I did manage to spot a fully mature whitetail doe browsing unconcernedly in waist deep vegetation her chestnut red colored coat closely resembling the deep hued tuscan stripe of our steam powered steed.
As we traveled westward I knew we would be passing through Prince William, Fauquier and Warren counties. This was "Mosby country". John Singleton Mosby that is, The Gray Ghost, the irrepressible and elusive Confederate partisan handpicked by J.E.B. Stuart himself to bedevil the Union forces in Northern and Central Virginia. He was eminently successful in his task. Route 50 which would parallel our excursion just a few miles to the north bears his name. Just a few miles outside of Manassas we passed through a long graffiti covered tunnel which passes under U.S. Route 29, LEE Highway, named after the redoubtable Robert E. Lee, commander of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. When we were about fifteen miles out the 611 sliced through Thoroughfare Gap in the Bull Run Mountains and I was reminded that this was the scene where just prior to the Second Battle of Manassas General John Buford's outnumbered Union cavalry held off Longstreet's Confederate Infantry for almost six hours while waiting for the infantry support that never came from the befuddled Union Army Commander, John Pope. Ten miles further we passed through Marshall, Virginia named after famed Supreme Court Justice John Marshall who grew up in that vicinity. When we reached mile post 34 the 611 began its long 10 mile climb up the grade to the Blue Ridge Mountains. The weather and the tracks were dry and the powerful 611 reached the summit with nary a problem. Then it began its descent towards the Shenandoah River and our destination at Front Royal, Virginia which was the sight of just one of "Stonewall" Jackson's many victories during his famed Shenandoah Valley campaign of 1862. Here, at mile post 51, we made a turn on another wye for our return trip to Manassas.
During the course of our excursion to Front Royal and its return to Manassas I was amazed at the hundreds of people all along our route who wanted to greet the 611 as she passed by. Crowds of people were massed at every Railroad crossing; they stood along side of remote stretches of track; they gathered at stream crossings; perched themselves on rock overhangs and stood along side of cornfields, they were everywhere. Many people in our country say Americans can only be unified by disaster and crisis. This is not so. I saw young Americans, old Americans, male Americans, female Americans and Americans of vastly different cultural heritage and they all had one thing in common. They were happy. As the "Spirit of Roanoke" passed by young fathers had their sons and daughters sitting atop their shoulders smiling and waving while young mothers were holding infants up so the crew of the 611 could see them. Every person I saw in those crowds regardless of their ethnic backgrounds were happily interacting with one another and enjoying the spirit of the moment. For me, it was a heartening to witness such a multitude of happiness. One other thing caught my attention as I watched the crowds while the 611 passed them by. Many times the dark smoke from the 611 hung low in the air and passed along her flanks completely engulfing the adoring railfans. The crowds did not shrink away from the smoke but rather they embraced it. It was almost as if they desired to be enshrouded by the long lost pungent aroma of burned cinders. I am certainly not a world traveler but I have a sense about this and that is that no one loves and appreciates a steam locomotive like an American, especially when its the 611. Well, there you have it. I hope it was not too boring especially the history part but I just couldn't help myself. The 611-the Great Unifier.
