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Back in my dating days I had a habit of testing girlfriends by taking them out train hunting. (Be vewwee vewee quiet... we are huntin that wascally way freight). One spring day I picked up a gal whom I considered to be the outdoorsy type and we drove from Phoenix, AZ to Picacho Peak, about midway down the interstate to Tucson. (This was while the SP was still alive.) I actually had a tripod for my camera and had planned this shot for years... so I happily set up and began to wait, having set up a stick at trackside to use as a "click" point. The skies got cloudy. I waited. It got cold. I waited. There were a couple of drops of rain. I carefully cleaned the lens of my camera, and waited. This WAS a mainline, I thought. Then the heavens opened up, and I glanced over at my "date". She was patiently sinking ankle deep in caliche (pronounced Kah- lee- chee). So was I. Since we were now soaked to the skin we decided to try, try again, preferably on a sunny day. As I got back onto the Interstate, sure enough, SP graced us with a mixed freight barreling by at about a million miles an hour. <br />Sometimes you get the picture and sometimes it gets you. <br /> <br />Erik
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