Apologies to The Hip, but it *was* the wine.

Specifically, Coppola’s Pinot Noir, followed by the Turquiose Room’s superb chocolate soufflé. The Southwest Chief was running late, so I prowled groggily with my tripod for a bit, but my whole body was begging to lie down and sleep. I threw in the towel when Number 3’s eta reached 2:50 down. The next thing I heard was Number 4’s highball, on the advertised at 06:18……so I shot neither the evening nor morning passenger trains at La Posada.

I did roll out of bed in hope of the bridge shot in early light, but a work block was holding all eastbounds somewhere out towards Kingman. That abandoned living room suite in the field at West Winslow reminded me of the stuffed animals on Breezy Point in Nebraska – an enduring if quirky railfan timepiece. The only train I saw was a westbound baretable – Chico making a point, I guess. By 10:30, with the light swinging, we headed west to Flag, grabbing a couple of eastbounds en route, and went on to Sedona.

We had a wonderful stay at La Posada, but my working train catches this trip were better down closer to Tucson. I bet that an empty steel water tower makes a very pleasing sound when you plunk it with a .22. If you are ever in the Tucson area around lunchtime, grab lunch on the open patio at the Hotel Congress. This is where Dillinger was cornered…..right across from the depot and the UP mainline. The old CTC machine in the depot’s waiting room was cool, too.

A non-rail excursion took us to Tombstone, home of Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. The real town marshall was there on the main street, hanging out with the pretend gunslingers who re-enact the infamous shootout every two hours. Talk about a job where you walk in the footsteps of past legends!

The same could be said for the hogger who blew the two shorts on that P42’s horn in Winslow…. I wonder if I was following any legends through La Posada. Did anyone notable ever oversleep their departure and miss The Chief back in the day?