My first 'memorable' ride was a paid trip familiarizing on the Z-9. It was very soon after I arrived at Fresno, in November, 1998. This was certainly not my first ride in a cab, having been raised at Orange Empire Railway Museum, and also having been previously qualified on the Los Angeles division that previous spring and summer.
However, in November, it is typically quite foggy in the Central Valley, as it was this trip.
Regardless of this blinding mess, as soon as our rear-end cleared the 30MPH curve at Hammond, the Engineer skinned it straight back to Run 8, and we were soon doing 70 through the neighborhoods of Fresno. The signals whipped by us in under a second's time of sight, with both the Conductor and Engineer being eerily quiet and nearly shouting out the signals to each other.
On top of this, we either had a 500 class ATSF engine, or something else just as rough, because we were really getting beat up. I got all puckered up, and just prayed that the windshield of grey-white blindness would not get shattered by something we'd slam into.
I've never forgot that trip, but I certainly came away with a great appreciation for human skill, judgement and experience.