Gazing out the Carolinian window, admiring nature's engineers

Written February 13, 2014

I’m back aboard Amtrak’s southbound Carolinian, headed to see family and friends in Greensboro, NC, where I grew up. I went for Business Class, as usual. I’m such a regular on this train that the Business Class attendant, who works the southbound on Fridays and the northbound on Sundays, knows me. I also usually know the volunteer North Carolina Train Host, who boards in Rocky Mount and acts as an ambassador for the state, under a program sponsored by the North Carolina Department of Transportation, which financially supports the Carolinian. And once again, nearly every seat is occupied. Granted, I tend to visit Greensboro on long weekends when many others travel, but on days like this, Amtrak could surely fill additional cars on this train — if only the surplus equipment and longer station platforms, and ultimately the political will to fund these things, weren’t in such short supply. 

When I’m lucky enough to get a window seat, as I am today, I find myself spending much of the ride contemplating the passing landscape. Although this route is certainly not known for its scenic grandeur, but there are plenty of points of interest. A perennial favorite is Ashland, VA, a railfan hotspot where CSX’s double-track ex-Richmond, Fredericksburg & Potomac main line occupies the median of Center Street, going right through a charming downtown and past the front lawns of stately Victorian homes. I’ve spent an afternoon there photographing trains and the town’s architecture, and I always enjoy the sensation of cruising down the street as if I’m in a car or on a bike — but instead sharing a train with over 200 others. There are many other locales along the route where you pass by or along the town center, most of which aren’t in as good shape as Ashland. Rocky Mount is one, but there are also places the train doesn’t stop like Emporia, VA and Whitakers and Elm City, NC. 

Another highlight is the crossing of the James River on the concrete arched A-Line Bridge, built in 1919. The river is just under 1,000 feet wide here, and flows over many rocky outcroppings. CSX’s ex-Cheaspeake & Ohio lines parallel the James on both sides here, but I’ve only once been lucky enough to see another train pass beneath mine.  There are also scenic, but not as remarkable, crossings of the Occuquan, Rappahannock, Appomattox, Roanoke, Haw and Yadkin Rivers, mostly on steel trestle bridges.

But one little-noticed sight I always appreciate is between Fredericksburg and Ashland. The casual observer might only see scattered ponds and wetlands, but I see a series of landscapes shaped by the works of the only animal other than humans capable of extensively altering its environment to suit its needs. I speak of course of nature’s engineer, the beaver. Several of their dams, lodges and channels can be seen from the train, and it is these constructions that keep water in these streams and ponds. This conservation of water on the landscape gives the beavers safety and access to food supplies, but also helps humans and many other creatures in numerous ways. These ecosystem services are going to be even more valuable as much of the country faces prolonged drought. In fact, current best practices in the construction industry include slowing stormwater runoff by building small earthen or stone structures resembling beaver dams. 

The aims of beavers’ engineering are often in conflict with human desires, particularly when it comes to transportation infrastructure, including railroads. Luckily on this stretch of the ex-RF&P, the right-of-way is elevated enough to avoid flooding. But in cases where beaver activity does cause problems, more infrastructure managers are discovering that it’s more cost-effective to install devices that control water levels and protect culverts while keeping beavers around, rather than repeatedly trapping them out, only to see new colonies establish themselves in the place of previous ones. Among the many hats I wear professionally is my volunteer role as social media manager for a nonprofit that educates individuals and agencies on how and why to coexist with beavers. We could certainly benefit not only from letting beavers tend smaller waterways, but also from mimicking their penchant for building infrastructure that meets their needs while providing benefits for the larger community. By expanding and improving our rail and transit networks for passengers and freight, we’d be doing just that.