It’s autumn. The leaves are changing, the stores are prepping for Halloween, and train fanatics are descending on Durango to ride the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad’s annual Fall Photo Train this weekend.

I went last year on a whim, because I had a new camera and was willing to get up early on a Sunday for some reason. (Though the train’s website said tickets for the special weekend train were sold out, I was able to buy one the day before by calling.) Unfortunately, I didn’t get up early enough. All of the window seats were taken by eager photographers – there was even a group of four people who had split up so they could each snag a window.

Sensing (correctly) that I was one of only a very few locals on the train, I used caution when deciding who to sit next to. Would it be the rotund man in the cowboy hat who eagerly made eye contact as I walked down the aisle? The cranky woman complaining to anyone who would listen that she forgot to bring extra camera batteries? No dice – I made a beeline for the sleeping man so that I could adjust to consciousness in silence.

I learned we would ride almost all the way to Silverton, then get out at various stops along the way to get shots of the train going by (it would then reverse back for us). My irritation at missing out on a window seat evaporated – there would be plenty of opportunities to snap the shutter. The irritation of the entire car evaporated when it was announced we could take our mugs up to fill with coffee in the concessions car. A jovial guy came back and slapped my seatmate awake to give him coffee and some sort of pastry, then settled back behind us. He wanted to talk.
“What’s your goal for today?” he asked me genially.

“Fall color.”

His face darkened. Wrong answer! I asked why he was there.

"We’re chasin’ steam,” he said, puffing up his chest.

It turns out there’s a small but passionate international group of people obsessed with trains. Many people on the train had been coming to Durango for years for the fall photographer’s train, had become friends, and now travel the world together, “chasing steam.” For most, it’s a hobby. David, the man I’d offended with my lack of fanaticism, sold parts and equipment for model trains. Another guy in his group was retired, and now works on a train set on his property with an engine big enough for him to straddle and ride. (He showed me a video of himself doing just that.) And my formerly sleeping neighbor turned out to be an esteemed Japanese photographer who publishes photography books about – you guessed it! – trains. The three of them met more than a decade ago and now meet up to travel to different trains in the U.S. A few days before, they’d ridden the train in Chama. The day before, they’d ridden the Durango train, but wanted to do it again for different light and angles.

At Rockwood, a lanky kid from Switzerland boarded and was soon asked to prove his worth. Unlike me, he did.

“I am on vacation with my wife, but she is not coming today because after five or eight days of trains, she says ‘enough.’”

So he’d left her to her own devices – he didn’t want to miss this train ride. Talk about priorities!

We finally made it to the drop-off point just before Silverton, and two carloads of photographers and train enthusiasts jostled for the best places to perch their tripods (or squat at the base of one). It was easy to get caught up in the excitement. But after 10 minutes of eager anticipation, I thought I should wander off to get some shots of the brilliant yellow aspens over the aqua Animas River with picturesque red boulders. I did, then hustled back when the group’s murmuring was so pronounced that I knew the train was on the way. The paparazzi clicked like mad as it (slowly) roared past. I’d caught train fever!

Back onboard, David wanted to compare photos. He was not impressed with my freshman attempts – he had squatted on the other side of the river for the perfect vantage point. “But I was taking photos of the color,” I said lamely, attempting to show him. But he wasn’t interested in any frames without a steam engine at the epicenter.

Luckily, there were about five more opportunities for photos on our way back home to Durango, and I eventually redeemed myself once the fall color was less spectacular. The staff of the train is very indulgent of their biggest fans, staging filling the engine with water, and posing for a staff photo session in front of the engine on the tracks. The best vantage point is the final stop, on the classic shot before town when the train comes around the bend and shoots a spray of steam horizontally, which leads to rainbows if you follow the die-hard fans up a big rock and they don’t push you off.

 

Despite running out of memory card space – had I really taken 400 photos? – for the last rainbow pass, I’d made some new friends.

So I thought I’d buy a round of drinks to thank them for helping me find the best vantage points, and for eventually offering me a window seat. They wanted beer – “anything light.” As a hop-loving Durangoan, this led to quite a problem for me in the concessions car: if a man says he wants a “light beer” does that mean I should buy a low-calorie beer like Bud Light? Or does it just mean “lager is fine, just no Guiness?” I even asked some gentlemen in the car, who suggested I stick to Bud Light. I can’t drink that crap, so I bought myself a Steam Engine Lager from Steamworks, and got them the Buds. Whoops! They were so excited that there was a train on my beer can that they demanded to know more about Steamworks so that they could buy T-shirts and other gear with trains. I drew them a map on a napkin.

This year, I’m going to sit out the Fall Photographer’s Train, though I’ll be sure to wave at my friends chasing steam as they slowly roll by. Maybe I’ll go undercover to explore all of the subcultures drawn to the D&SNG Railroad, like Thomas the Tank Engine. I sure hope they serve beer on that one – any kind will do!

– Jen Reeder