Life gives us a few singular moments never to be forgotten.
August 19th, 1966.
The Trent family annual vacation, at my mother's direction, was aimed at the 4 corners area.
We arrived in Silverton just before noon, perfect timing to catch #476 hauling train No. 461 into town (B-7 at the rear), later followed by #473 with the second train right on time.
We waited in Silverton till the second train left, caught the first train at Hermosa and paced her into the Durango along the highway. My Dad, being the prototypical railfan, found the perfect place to catch the train at the Main St. crossing, and we continued our pacing of the engine down the alley that later became Narrow Gauge Ave toward the depot. I had the honor of riding shotgun as we glided along, 476's side rods and valve gear clanking away at less than six feet from my 16 year old face, R.D. Shock's steady hand at the whistle cord at every crossing.
I've never been the same since.
A great day for me, the very moment I became infected with the Narrow Gauge bug.
In reviewing my photographs taken that day over the years, I can confirm that in 1966, the water tank was still there, but gone the next year, and the roundhouse had undergone the raising of the roof in the middle stalls.
I'm really sorry I won't be able to be in Durango this week for the convention and Railfest, but I'll be there every day in my mind, and in my spare room, where I still continue to model the time and essence of that magical place.
I know all of you who are fortunate enough to be in Durango this week will have a great time, but nothing can compare with my first trip there 40 years back. Well, maybe YOUR first trip was as great as mine, after all.
