That’s a rhetorical question really. I consider railroad tracks and train tracks the same thing. But apparently railway track may be the proper term. Technically speaking, I suppose all train tracks are railroad tracks – or railways. But not all railroad tracks are train tracks. I say this, suggesting a train track is a working railway used by trains, while many railroad tracks out there have been abandoned long ago. All this to say that this week’s Friday Five features a few random fotos or railroad tracks I’ve found from our fifteen plus years of Live Work Dream Galleries.
Railroad, railway, train track, whatever. I like them all. This rail line above runs through remote West Texas. From the point where this photo is taken, The Marfa Prada Store sits right across the road. That road is pictured in the header on every page of this websites current iteration (circa 2022). At some point I started taking photos fom the middle of the tracks. Usually when no train was coming.
Trains themselves are fascinating, but I especially enjoy coming across a set of rails while out in the middle of nowhere. This is usually around sunrise on some long run.
I stumbled upon these tracks above, literally, during a long run during our stay at Lava Beds National Monument. And here are those same tracks a little while later, from my favorite angle…
A little more recently, I ran along some tracks in remote Silver Springs, while staying at Churchill Nevada State Park.
The distant sound of a train whistle only heightened my fear while I was running across the rail bridge with narrow grate walkway to get back home. It was only about 40 feet to the dry riverbed below. Do something that scares you they say…
That distant train whistle sound lost its charm long ago during our stay at Landa Park in New Braunfels, Texas. You knew it was only to get louder, closer, much louder, and much closer. They’ve installed a fence since then, so you can’t walk across the tracks to the office anymore. Those distant train horns are just now starting to soothe me so many years later. But a part of me still cringes if I’m slipping off to sleep – recalling so many sleepless nights, awaiting the rumble coming down the railroad tracks, or train tracks rather.