This is the sixth post of a blog by Matt Porubsky called “satisfactual,” which will be updated weekly, discussing odds and ends about Topeka history and culture, with a little opinion thrown in for good measure.

It was like seeing a ghost. Somewhere between the churn of the white steam mixed with mist and the scaling howl bellowing through downtown North Topeka, my veins were flooded with the adrenaline of this singular encounter. It was a spirit that somehow escaped extinction to tower before hundreds of onlookers at the Great Overland Station, snarling and hissing as if showing that it was more dynamic than any living thing on earth. Every eye watching the Union Pacific no.844 steam locomotive that morning was transported to another place. Every child and adult seemed to share the same feeling, standing a little taller on the tips of their toes to see as much of the locomotive as they could. Everyone knew this didn’t happen everyday.

I was one of the lucky ones that morning. Since 2005 I have worked for the Union Pacific Railroad as a freight conductor. Basically, that means that I take trains apart and put new trains together. My father has done this same job for over 30 years. My uncle, too. This is why we were so lucky that morning. We were offered tickets to ride the steam engine from Topeka to Marysville by our manager at work and we graciously accepted. It is odd for people who work on trains everyday to take a day off to ride on a train, but the moment the 844 arrived, I could tell these seasoned railroaders felt just like all those train enthusiast that surrounded them.

“This locomotive’s got all the bells and whistles.” That’s what the fireman of the engine, Ed, said to me after I weaseled my way up onto the locomotive. “The UP is the only railroad that has an engine like this. No other railroad has a steam program.”

The only thing more intimidating than the steam locomotive itself is being inside the cab of a steam locomotive. There are more valves and knobs and levers than a hardware store. Each one is specific in its task but vital in its collaboration with all the others to make the engine operate. I felt like I was looking at someone’s brain.

“A locomotive is all seat-of-your-pants, especially when you are running it.” Ed continued. “A steam locomotive is the ultimate. I mean, it’s animated, it’s loud, it has a character to it. That was the romance of the railroad – everything all rolled into on one smoking, animated, ground-shaking package.”

I mentioned to Ed how lucky I was feeling that day, and how I was riding with my father and uncle and several other “old-heads” that I get to work with at the UP. He had a quick response to that:

“I was very fortunate. Twenty years ago, there were guys who had done this, in the ’40s, and they were engineers on steam engines. They broke in as firemen and they worked for all the various cantankerous personalities and they knew the tricks of the trade because that was their lifestyle and their job. Much like the guys we work with today on the railroad. You know, you’re working with the old guys and they show you the little tricks.”

I got back to my seat just before we left the station.  Craig, an old-head and friend of my father’s, turned around from the seat in front of me and said, “Here we go riding Big Iron. The tall tales of the rickety rails.” I can’t tell you how many tricks Craig has taught me at work.

The trip was more than smooth. The passenger car was exactly as it was built so many decades ago, the upholstery sporting little “UP”s all over with legroom to boot. We were riding on the best-maintained train cars on the Union Pacific line. We were well fed by employees of the Overland Station and were entertained and informed by two fine UP employees who work with Operation Lifesaver instructing on railroad crossing safety and awareness. It was hospitality at its finest.

Between the passenger cars were openings for folks to stick their heads out and take a look at the train and the scenery as it went by. I turned my hat around and took my turn. The locomotive was running at about 60 mph. The wind kind of puts a knot in your throat at that speed. There is no feeling but wind. No sound but wind. That is, until the engine lets loose its belly-tingling howl. The train came into a curve and I had a clear view of the 844 surging on the rail in a virile stride. I watched horses in fields spook and scatter at this unfamiliar force.

“A tornado came through and picked up a boxcar and took it up about a quarter of a mile and it was sitting up on top of that hill.” My dad pointed out the window as he told the story. We were nearing Marysville and the end of our journey. I noticed something different about all the railroaders who were around me on the train. Their stories seemed more optimistic and joyful. They were telling tales with pride about where they have worked and the experiences they have had. This ride on the steam engine seemed to return them to a type of “glory days” feeling of railroading. Their conversations carried some sort of appreciation for their involvement in a part of America that is disappearing. Half of the guys on that train that I work with run locomotives by a remote control strapped to their chests. That’s a world of difference from all those brain valves and knobs that were enabling our trip that day.

We rode back to Topeka on a bus. Comparing that train ride with the bus ride is like comparing Porubsky’s Deli to Applebee’s. I was happy to overhear several conversations about ReThink Topeka and NOTO and the Great Overland Station’s further involvement in bringing a different scene to downtown North Topeka. More steam engine rides are possible in the future. Keep your ears open to that call of the steam engine’s whistle. It’s vastly different than the contemporary engine’s horn. You’ll know the difference when you hear it and if you get the chance to ride the locomotive…well…the poet William Carlos William put it best. You may have heard this before but here it is: “devil-may-care men who have taken / to railroading / out of sheer lust for adventure.” That’s what you will experience on the steam engine: a thrilling adventure.

Matt Porubsky is not a licensed therapist, statistician, historian or medical professional. But he is the 2009 Distinguished Kansan of the Year in arts and entertainment. Take that! Most of the time he just makes stuff up. But all of these stories are based on actual events.

[photos by Matt Porubsky | May 2010]