As followers of my train posts know, I have been singularly focused on photographing trains as they roll through “Greater Wasilla.” I have had a good photo in mind for awhile, but conditions had not been night. Last night, they were. Still, it turned into a squeaker as I decided I had better wait at the station just in case the southbound Hurricane Turn Train brought the same Willow Elementary Fourth and Fifth graders it had carried to Hurricane Gulch back to be picked up by the Frequent School Bus.

I had understood the principal to say it would drop them off in Willow on the return, but maybe I understood wrong. I waited at the station for over a half hour beyond scheduled arrival time. I heard the whistle. The FSB had not come. I surmised the students had been dropped off in Willow, so I dashed off to Dog Wash Overpass. The Hurricane came right behind me. I launched in a hurry, heard three friendly little beeps from the engineer and flew Sancho to the spot I figured would be best. I had to find it quick and I did, but had to make some little adjustments. Just as I finished, the lead locomotive rolled into the edge of the frame. I held off a few fractions of a second until what I figured was the right moment. It looked so beautiful. I tapped the shutter button. Nothing happened. The picture did not take.

It took me about half a minute to figure out why, but by then the train was long gone.

“Well,” I figured, “maybe I can beat it to the Hay Flats.”

But maybe not. It had a good head start on me and I had two traffic lights to contend with. But I had to try. If I succeeded, it would not advance my Wasilla train essay, but still it would be a train picture. Flurries of rain drifted about. If one caught me at the Flats, I could not launch Sancho. If it didn’t, and sun rays made it to the train, the result could be dramatic.

It turned into another squeaker, but this is the result. It can be good to fail at your original plan.