Dear Daylight.
Several miles from the border of California there is a little mountain town called Duck's Peak. High up between the mountains of the same name along the edge of the Southern Oregon coast. It's one of those towns where you wouldn't stop for anything but gas or food. The town's name is painted on the side of a giant water tower that ironically hasn't towered water in over a decade.
(Someone should probably do something about that. We had had some strong storms and busted water lines.)
While quiet and comfortable the people living here are the same, with some living their whole life without stepping a foot out of town. But they don't seem to mind as it's so small you can bet everyone knows everyone. Seeing how there is only one school there is no doubt that everyone went there. Duck's Peak is all about community and saying good morning to your neighbors. It's nice like that and I enjoy living and working here.
A single main street cuts through town connecting it to the rest of the"pit stop towns" along the coast with small roads branching up and down the mountain to small neighborhoods. Next to the road and down, a separate section were the train tracks. We have the lumber mill trackage, the ones that cut across the road to the storage yard, and the mainline that cuts through a tunnel.
The only way trains come to town is through the ancient trestle bridge. It stretches over the Chetco River, and it's at least a hundred years old. Having been rebuilt twice, once during a massive forest fire and the other time when a landslide knocked some of it down. There are rumors a concrete bridge will replace it eventually.
(I hope they don't. It's beautiful and one of the go-to highlights of the town.)
Ducks Peak has been and always will be a logging town. One of our only exports other than local fishing and a few ranches. It's lumber and laminate all the way! Though logs are mostly delivered by truck from down the mountain, It's ground up and glued into big sheets of plywood or cut into long beams!
(I could go on and on about lumber and laminate but it's not too interesting for a letter, I mostly do what I was built to do, work in the train yard.)
I'm the only humanoid locomotive in town. My job is to take the processed plywood from the lumber mill's loading dock and bring it to the storage yard, then push logs ready to be processed to the unloading dock. Then I sort and build up a train so another engine can take it at the end of the week. I almost always have sawdust in my hair and sap on me at the end of the day, I don't mind I love the smell of fresh-cut pine.
When I work with humans I make sure to be polite and caring. Because I'm not bound to the tracks I have my head on a swivel. The last thing I want to do is crash into a truck or run someone down in my kit. Most people here are elderly so I do my best to put my best face forward.
Being in a small town and being well..."Different" is a challenge but I take up odd jobs like painting fences and mowing lawns. It's nice to have some extra pocket money and it's the least I can do. Sometimes people make me cookies and wave at me from their cars, and if I have any problems I take it up with my Operator.
(She is super protective and doesn't like it when people bully me. Though that rarely happens anyway.)
The town itself; well just as old as the bridge has seen its fair share of upgrades and updates with the times. The local supermarket has those self-checkout stands and the mill makes lament in-house now. It's a good thing the track upgrades worked on the bridge too. That's all I can think of for now. The cities in California must have everything!
YOU ARE READING
Railway Alive: Full Steam Ahead (Rewritten)
AdventureOld-world locomotives have been replaced by genetically engineered ironclad women whose one job and only purpose is to pull and push trains. Madeline, a small shunting locomotive, often dreams about life outside her small train yard. One day, her wi...
