The Long Trains Roll

Half an hour later, we reached the main yard of the Canterlot & Northwestern. Looking to my right, I could see a brick roundhouse with ten stalls. Two of the stalls were occupied by locomotives, while a 2-6-0 Mogul was pulling off the turntable into the third stall. This engine wasn't as garish as the locomotive pulling the train that I saw when I first got to Equestria. Instead, it was a utilitarian black. The bell and whistle were covered in coal soot,  its 20 inch drivers giving testament to the fact that this locomotive was not meant for fast passenger trains. The only color on it was a white stripe on the side of the running board halfway up the boiler, the white rims of the drivers, and the red window frames on the cab. This was a freight hog, pure and simple, the small drivers giving the locomotive more pulling power at the expense of speed. On the ready track, there were two more just like it.

Behind the roundhouse was the main shops. A large erecting hall, where new locomotives were built, a similarly large backshop, where locomotives were given heavy repairs, car shops, where new railroad cars were built, and a RIP track, where light repairs to cars were done. Set a little ways away, but still part of the main complex, was the coach shop, where new passenger cars were built, outfitted, and maintained. There was a small team track, where LCL freight was handled. The whole place hummed with activity.

The main yard was also a hive of activity. Small, dirty 0-6-0 switchers bustled around, breaking down incoming trains, and rearranging the cars into new, outbound trains. Switchponies scrambled around, pulling the uncoupling levers and switching tracks just before a cut of cars rolled by, while brakeponies climbed atop the cars to set the brakes in a dangerous ballet.

Up the track was Canterlot Central Station, which was as grand as Pennsylvania Station. A small coach yard was to the left of it, where passenger cars of every color were being pushed around by garishly painted 0-4-0 switchers. Set apart from all the rest was a set of black cars, their fresh paint glistening in the noon light. The name "Canterlot and Northwestern Railway" in gold leaf adorned their sides. Soon, we were at the switch that would allow us to hook up to the train. Dusty climbed down and ran back to line the track. Closing the throttle and making a light application to the brakes, I gave a short toot on the whistle, signifying that I would be stopping.

The deep bass sound echoed through the yard, momentarily causing everyone to stop what they were doing and search for the source of the sound. What they saw amazed them. The largest locomotive they had ever seen slowly coasted to a stop. It loomed several feet over their own locomotives, and had a wheel arrangement none had ever seen. On the front, a keystone shaped herald with gold edges and a red interior, with the number 1361 in gold. The pilot was a solid piece of metal, with a strange type of coupler folded upwards. On the side of the cab, the numbers 1361 were emblazoned in gold in eight inch high letters. Smaller letters that read K4s were painted below them. There was gold striping around the edges of the tender, and the word PENNSYLVANIA adorned the center in two foot high letters.

When they saw the creature in the cab, they were shocked. It didn't look like anything they had ever seen before. It looked like a Diamond Dog with hair only on its face and head. As this was sinking in, they saw their Princess seated where the engineer would be, her coat streaked with black, and her regalia was coated with dust. Her mane was tied up in a large bun, and it too was covered with coal. Then they saw the smile she had on her face, and were amazed that their Princess could enjoy such work. It had never occurred to them that she enjoyed manual labor.

"Princess," I said, "I'm afraid that I'm going to need my seat back for this part."

"Very well, Randy," she said, sliding off the seatbox and moving to stand in the gangway. Concencious of the eyes on me, I stuck my head out the cab window, watching for Dusty to give me the signal. When he gave me the sign that the track was switched, I gave three short toots on the whistle, letting everyone know that I was backing up.  I pulled the Johnson bar back one notch toward me, and cracked the throttle. The locomotive started to move backwards, with Reggie calling out the distance to the first car of the train.