5 years ago today - East Broad Top

Link to Photographs

As a lifelong train enthusiast and photographer, I am consistently striving to capture the true heart and soul of a steam train; to make it come to life in the eye of the viewer. But, there are those rare and special moments when it’s your heart that beats a little faster and breath is taken away as you lean into the camera and prepare to take the shot. That day for me was Saturday, October 29th, 2011.

Halloween weekend at the East Broad Top Railroad started off as any other. I visited many times in the past and was prepared for a typical day of photo shooting. I had set out to photograph the abandonments in Mount Union and the old right-of-ways from days past. I was looking forward to chasing an excursion train or two; including the evening trains also. My first day was uneventful and exactly what I hoped for. But, as fate would have it, all of that would change the next day thanks to Mother Nature.

A seasoned railfan, I’m used to and prepared for all weather conditions. Nothing, and I mean nothing; can keep me away from capturing that awe-inspiring shot of a majestic steam locomotive. However, the 2011 Halloween nor'easter (also known as Snowtober) would certainly test my fortitude. The storm produced unusually early season snowfall across the northeastern United States, breaking records for total accumulations. In fact, in some cities Halloween was cancelled and kids were left with no treats. For me, the fun was about to begin.

Shortly after arriving at the roundhouse early that Saturday morning, the doors slowly creaked open, and there she stood…Mikado #15. For a brief moment, I paused to soak in the grandeur of this amazing piece of living machinery. But I was quickly drawn back to the art of capturing this wondrous treasure with my camera as the train crew began their carefully orchestrated process of preparing for her outing. A rush of emotion and adrenaline hit me as I noticed the first flakes of soft snow begin to gently fall on the small town of Orbisonia.

As the morning passed on, the snow intensified. By the time the train made its way out of town for its first run of the day, we had experienced near whiteout conditions and things got real quiet. With a typical steam train, you would expect to hear wheels clacking against the rails and steam puffing from the stack. But to my surprise, the snow seemed to envelop and muffle the familiar sounds of the locomotive.

It was clear from the deserted train cars and streets that people had planned to spend a warm and cozy day indoors. But nature seemed less prepared for the storm. As the train bellowed down the snowy rails, it was visible that the pine trees struggled to support the weight of the fresh snow, and the cornfields became covered in a white blanket. The autumn-colored leaves indicated that perhaps the trees were also caught off-guard by the storm.

As #15 wrapped up her arduous outing in the snow, the train crew welcomed me inside the roundhouse where we shared what running in the snow meant to each of us. While the guys were talking, I couldn’t help but notice how the steam and smoke hung suspended in the air all around us. What a magical treat.

I’m not a big fan of surprises. However, I have come to appreciate those unexpected moments in life; especially as it relates to my passion around vintage trains. No one could have predicted a snowstorm of such magnitude that Halloween weekend at the East Broad Top. No, not me, nor the train crew or nature itself. But, as with all great steam trains, they find their way through the storm. And to me, it doesn’t get any better than that.

Matthew