(Trains & Waves is currently a work-in-progress)
“Good morning America how are you?
Don’t you know me I’m your native son,
I’m the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.”
The City of New Orleans by Steve Goodman
To me the sound of trains are amazing; the experience of riding one of these “magic carpets made of steel” … well, that’s even better. The times I’ve found myself talking with someone anywhere near tracks, if a train passes, I zone out watching and listening to the train — if I’m extra lucky it’s a location where the tracks intersect a road (one of the places where engineers are required to sound their horns).
Growing up, during the summer my parents would frequently take me to Richmond Beach for weekend BBQs (Shoreline, WA). The park is located on the Puget Sound, along which part of the rail lines on the west coast run. To get to the water from the parking lot you walk on a foot bridge that crosses high over the train tracks. The beach would be well populated by swimmers, sand-castle builders, sun-bathers, and other families with kids. Whenever those of us kids on the beach heard a train coming, we would run our little legs off up the hill to get to the middle of the foot bridge. With a train lumbering & pounding below, as the foot bridge began to shake, we’d jump & sequel with the excitement holding on to the protective chain-link fence. The hot air would blast upward from the turbine engines, and in response to our gestures the engineers would blare their horns. After it passed, we caught our breaths sauntering back to our sand castles and hot dogs and beach-combing … always keeping an eye and an ear far up & down the long shoreline for the next train.
Something about these early experiences with trains stuck with me, both impalpable & indelible. The mechanized thunder, the heat and scent of burnt diesel off the churning turbines, and the distinct timbre of the horn resonating in your ears and throughout your body.
The last time I was at Richmond Beach I walked out to the north end of the beach. For all the times I’ve been to this beach I have never walked to this area. My recent schedule had been jam-packed, and this was a long over-due, if only short, break. As I stood by the water I took in the salt air, the calls of gulls & crows, and the gentle sound of the waves lapping near my feet. I soon began to hear an approaching freight train, so I turned to face the tracks and take that in, too.
While the rolling cacophony laboured by, I noticed that not only could I hear the train in front of me but also the waves behind — and then it hit me — the industrial ying of this heavy train to the natural yang of the waves and life around me. In that moment I knew that the next time I visited Richmond Beach it would be to make another Archive Of Resonance recording!
In recent years I took a couple of trips down the west coast by passenger train. It was the first time I had traveled by train since I was one of those kids running for the foot-bridge at Richmond Beach. Prior to that, between 2000 and 2003 I made two trips to Scotland and one to New York City — all of course by plane. While in Britain it was great to ride and see how another country is making good use of trains, and the train system between JFK and NYC seemed even better than the bus system at home. I learned something from these experiences… Don’t get me wrong, modern jet planes will get you where you need to go, and for that they have their place — but they don’t have the romance of trains. When you ride a train, settle back and get quiet within yourself, and you will notice that the train waltzes you down the line and speaks to you in poetry.
If you enjoy the sound of trains as I do, I know you’ll enjoy Trains & Waves.
Don ~ October 2012
