My girlfriend called across the tracks, "Did it stop?" "No, just slow." Having spent the last 15 years or so chasing trains around the speedy Northeast Corridor and Southern Transcon, I could understand her confusion. But this was Hugoton, Kansas and the trains on the Cimarron Valley Railroad take their good old time.
We had passed the train on the road, a little ways back, and pulled up to the next grade crossing. I lit a cigarette, finished it, rechecked my camera settings, rechecked the sun, tried a few more angles, made sure the cigarette was out, stared at a horse, and finally, the train.
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