My employer once again needed my services at our Farmington office. No arm twisting was needed to get me there. However, as I've noted before, I utterly detest the TSA and flying. But, duty called and the prospect of some fresh mountain air trumped my hatred of oppressive government agencies that have no regard for the U.S. Constitution.

I had to be in the office Monday, but got spousal approval to go the weekend before to do some exploring. Friday afternoon I left work early and ran home. After a quick goodbye to my son, Noah, Michele drove me to the airport. I transferred planes in Denver and arrived in Durango well after sundown. I hit the Wal-Mart near Carbon Jct for supplies on my way to the hotel.

Being that it was the off-season (too early for snow skiing and too late for the railroad to be running) I was able to get a room at the Strater Hotel for a reasonable price. Really nice place! All the hype is accurate and the location would be very convenient during the operating season.

With a 6-month-old baby at home, we don't get much sleep. So, I'm essentially always tired these days, never having an opportunity to catch up. Saturday morning I had to drag my butt out of bed, stumble to the car and force myself to drive over to Chama. I rolled the window down and the brisk air woke me up after a bit.

In Chama I met Friends' Members Jon Engs and Russ Hanscom. They were tidying up a few things prior to winter setting in. John and I had made plans the week before to have lunch and discuss future web camera and other web-based projects.

Prior to this trip, I hadn't ever been in Chama when nothing was running. In 2009 I stayed in town from Closing Day to the following weekend for a freight excursion. But, during that time there was always at least one hot locomotive and plenty of post-season/pre-excursion switching. In fact, at the end of the week there were four hot K36's at the Engine House.

However, on this day there was nothing but cold metal and it was quiet. Very quiet. Absolutely still. The cinders crunching under my boots seemed intrusively loud in the deafening silence. A barely perceptible breeze drifted through the few leaves still clinging to the trees, the rest lay scattered on the ground. Even up "in town" there was hardly any movement. No shoppers. No traffic. There were more deer wandering around the yard in search of food than people wandering Terrace Avenue. I'll stop short of saying the scene was depressing (because life will return to the railroad in a few short months), but it was certainly captivating in a solemn way.

The details of lunch with John can't be disclosed at this time. But, in short, if the things being worked on come to fruition, many people will be very excited. Good things are coming.