Well it’s a little late, but I’ll chime in here. The first thing that strikes me is all the macho posturing: I’ll have you arrested for trespassing, I dare you to say that to my face, why don’t you die, grow some balls… I mean, are you guys serious? Perhaps way too serious: do you realize that we are a bunch of grown men preserving, running, and driving around like nuts photographing trains?! As passionate as we all are about our own version of the hobby, don’t you see the strong element of comedy in it? If not, I think you’re missing out on some of the pure, childish joy of all this. All this tough guy nonsense really seems like over-compensating: like a guy who’s 5’ 4” and buys a Hummer. People think I’m odd when I first tell them about my interest in railroad photography: until they see the pictures, then they get it (at least somewhat). And it is an odd hobby, as are most hobbies. So why not embrace that, instead of getting defensive and building up this air of over-seriousness and all these ridiculous subdivisions: steam fans who look down on trolley fans, photographers who look down on model railroaders, still photographers who look down on videographers (and the videographers who demand silence! as they start shooting, like self-important Hollywood directors), film users who scorn digital users, and – one I really fail to understand – people on the recent McCloud excursion who talked derisively about “foamers.” What the hell are the people who paid for the excursion (I’m one of them) if not foamers like everyone else? I met some great people on the trip, but I also met some who made me feel like I was back in the Boy Scouts: blowhards with poor (or no) social skills who feel that their loud-mouthed commands must be voiced and obeyed if everything is to remain in control and successful (this is not a reference to Martin, by the way). The trip reminded me of why I most enjoy photographing trains alone. Honestly guys, face up to your – our – own absurdity and stop acting like insecure 14-year-olds.

I paid for and rode the recent excursion. I couldn’t care less about the presence of so-called “free-loaders” as long as they – and this also holds for the other people like me who paid – don’t get in my shots. I paid to get good photos, not to keep other people from also getting good photos. I realize not everyone holds that opinion. And, truth be told, on the first day the non-paying chasers got a lot of photos I would have liked to have got, instead of being a hostage on the interminable caboose ride to Nebraska Curve. I realize the point of a steam photo freight is to capture some sort of fantasy, but the belief that there are no good photos east of McCloud except for Nebraska Curve kept us from getting the train at, for example, the great S-curve just east of Sheep Heaven Road. And I and a couple of others had to lobby for a second run-by at Nebraska Curve so we could get the shot from up on the embankment, an idea resisted by some because the “foamers” were getting that shot. The reality of the McCloud is that of a railroad slowly being reclaimed by nature: the little trees sprouting along (and in) the ROW, the lack of ballast, the fact that you can’t get unobstructed train-length photos in very many places (and just how many rods-down 3/4 shots with Mt. Shasta in the background do we really need, for god’s sake?) are the elements to be creatively captured in pictures, not disregarded because we wish the railroad was something it isn’t – and hasn’t been for 75 years. A photo freight arranged by and for people with a more creative photographic perspective would have been welcome.

Finally, it seems clear that #25 was not really ready for this trip. I’m glad my $700 went toward at least partially restoring it, but there should have been a contingency plan: a second crew available to man a diesel pusher so, if nothing else, we could pose the train at some of the most photogenic and quintessential McCloud locations: Bartle Tank, Big Canyon, and Howard. My wife asked if I was sorry I went, and I said I wasn’t, but that I didn’t feel I got my money’s worth. Exactly who’s fault this is – my own, for having high expectations? – doesn’t concern me, really; though many people seemed to have a lot invested in blaming someone or other – and bellowing about it to anyone who would listen. But I won’t put down that kind of money again unless I’m sure the event is likely to meet my expectations: and unless it promises something detailed and well-planned, and then delivers on it. On the other hand, I look at the photos I got and I’m glad I went.