All Aboard!

On a bright March day in 1963, I pulled off highway 45 between the cities of Salamanca and Celaya in the state of Guanajuato, Mexico, and parked the car under the eucalyptus trees near the station of Villagrán. Courtney and Lois Swander, and I climbed out of the car, and Yvonne followed carrying David (3 months old) in his car seat. We were on our way to Mexico City to visit my parents. As we were finishing our picnic lunch, we saw a southbound freight train approaching on the main line, and then in the distance a northbound freight approaching on the siding. We were going to enjoy a meet of two trains, and we both pulled out our movie cameras to film this exciting event. The southbound was pulled by one of those enormous Niagara locomotives, and then we saw that the northbound was also pulled by a similar locomotive. The thirty two Niagara locomotives were the last steam locomotives acquired by the National Railways of Mexico in 1946. Soon the first locomotive approached, hissing steam, rods clanking back and forth, and enormous seventy inch drivers polishing the rails as 285 tons passed us going south. A few minutes later the northbound train passed us with the same deafening sound, and then the clickety clack of the freight cars rushing over the joints of the rails. This reminded me of a similar experience a few years before when Yvonne and I had attended a church business meeting in the village of Los Nogales and were returning to Pabellón where we were living at the time. Around midnight as we came to the railroad crossing about two miles north of the city of Zacatecas, I noticed the headlight of a locomotive approaching in the distance. From the crossing to Zacatecas there are some very sharp curves on the highway, and one almost touches a curve on the railroad, so I wondered if I could park the camper next to that curve and wait for the southbound freight. When I got there, I saw space to park off the shoulder of the highway right next to a curve in the rail line. If one is enamored of mountain railroading, Zacatecas is the place to be. To reach the city, which is at an elevation of more than 8,000 feet, a helper locomotive is added to each freight train as it negotiates the sharp curves and steep grades on both north and south approaches to the city. We rolled down the windows and waited. In the distance we could hear the mournful whistle as the engineer signaled the two longs, one short and another long, when he drew near the highway crossing we had just left. The panting of the two locomotives as they battled the curves and grades became more labored. The sound grew louder as the train drew near. Suddenly the headlight of the leading locomotive peeked out from behind the cut in a curve leading into the curve we were parked next to. The panting became a deafening roar of the blasts of the exhaust in cadence with the drivers. The ground began to tremble and the camper shook. And then 200 hundred tons of steel hurtled past us. There was a moment of relief, and then a repeat performance as the second engine passed us. The sound of the locomotives became muffled as they entered the cut of another curve. The melodious clickety clack of the wheels of the freight cars passing and the high pitch screeches of their flanges grinding on the curved rail became the closing movement of an unforgettable performance.