FA+
Shop
842
Views
Views
3
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50
File Size 119.9 kB
Report this content
More from futurewesty
Soooo, who remembers that "Founding of a Nation" story I wrote several months ago? No one? Good! :D Well, for those of you who did, this can be seen as a sort of sequel to that, in that Founding of a Nation set up the world that this will be taking place in.
This is gonna be the first in (yet another) series where I illustrate the adventures of the very last steam engineer in the Canadian Rockies. As well as a relationship that would be considered shocking and unnatural for the time. And how they worked through everything to find wuuuv. Aww.
As always read, enjoy, and if you feel so inclined, review!
Contains:
A steam engine
A steam engineer
A tired white guy
A curse word
A wolf-lady furry person
A Gordon Lightfoot song
Exposition. :I Lots of it. :I
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
“There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run... When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun... Long before the white man and long before the wheel... When the green, dark forests were too silent to be real...”
There were many stories about how countries were created, tales of truth and valour, triumph and struggle to make an inhospitable land home. One such country was Canada, a wide and relatively young nation that was slowly settled from east to west over time... Every part of the country had their own stories about how they were forged, the maritimes were born from the Cod fish industry, the eastern provinces of Quebec and Ontario were created with fire and gunpowder as well as pen and paper. The central prairies provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and most of Alberta were made off of the backs of the hard-working men and women that had settled there. The territories were borne off of men seeking their fortune in the inhospitable frozen north. And the wild western portion of Alberta and British Columbia? Well.... most folks around here like to say that it was won with steam.
At least... That’s what Brandon liked to tell himself. Truth be told, the era of steam in the great Canadian plains and Rocky Mountains was in its twilight hour. The more powerful and lower-maintenance diesel trains had taken over for the most part, and you were far more likely to hear the rumble of a great diesel engine in the middle of the night then you were to hear the chuffs of a steam piston.
Still, he thought to himself as he poked his head out of the window of his formerly Union-Pacific owned 4-8-8-4 ‘Big-Boy’ engine and squinted through the billowing smoke at the track ahead, they hadn’t *quite* take over yet. He checked his speed and hopped down to shovel some more coal into the boiler. The large iron doors creaked open and he felt a blast of hot air in his face as he shoveled in a few piles of coal to help the engine build up some more steam so it could climb the last bit of hill. He was placing the shovel back up on the rack when his radio crackled to life.
“Hey, uh, Bran. Just hold up for a few minutes once you get down the hill, the 4:19 to Cowgalley is running a bit behind, we’re just waiting for them to clear the yard, then you can bring the freight in.” came the fuzzy voice of the Brighton yard-controller, Jim Grender.
Brandon grabbed the mic and pressed the talk button “Alrighty, I’ll get ‘er stopped once we’re at the signal.” He hopped back up into the seat and grasped the train brake control, carefully watching his speed as the massive train began its descent towards the valley.
He’d purchased the locomotive as a cast off from Union-Pacific 4 years ago, and had spent the last two restoring it. And boy, he was sure glad that he did it, as it was one of the few reasons he was still able to keep his job without having to go over to diesels. This train, along with another diesel the company had recently purchased, was the only one that could haul freight of this weight, especially at a consistent speed on the windy mountain tracks. He had two other engines that the company kept on as well. One was a beautiful blue and brown Canadian Pacific 4-6-4 “Hudson” that was used for hauling tourists around a few times a month, or else was on display for the public to look at. Brandon also would dress the carriages up every year after christmas and take the engine on nightly trips through the mountains every night leading up to new years eve, hosting different nights for young children to come aboard, a couples dance night, and even one for the older folks, some of whom would sit with him in the locomotive and reminisce about their days on the rails.. Then, on new years the train would be filled with music, dancing, and laughing as the whole town would come down to celebrate. Brighton was a town founded on the railroad, and so it made sense that the most grand celebration (at least, in Brandons mind) would take place aboard a train. It was a wonderful affair, everyone would dress in their best clothing and they would be taken up the mountain to some land that had been cleared out the week before, and there with a massive bonfire in the middle of a field, and a picturesque steam engine silhouetted against the evening sky, they would dance and sing the night away.
He had always felt very important for being the one who got the honour to ferry everyone up each year, and he figured the main reason was because the soft chugging of the steam locomotive was much nicer to listen to then the low grumbling of a diesel. “Now who’s the idiot for pursuing a steam certification when everyone else was going for a diesel one? Certainly not meeee!” He laughed as he pulled the whistle lever down, and a low WHOOOOSH echoed throughout the valley. “Ah... Now, let’s see...” He poked his head out of the window once more and noticed the red lights off in the distance. “There’s the signal.”
He began to apply more braking power, feeling the heavy cars shudder against each other as the train came to a slow stop just a few feet off of the signal. Brandon groaned and stretched out as he listened to the chatter on the radio, staring out the dusty window at the sunny day. He saw a few puffs of smoke coming from the far eastern end of the yard and he realized that someone had fired up his other train, probably to move a few smaller cars into position. The engine in question was a small tank engine with a large flat boiler and faded green paint that had apparently belonged to a British railway at some point. It got the least amount of use of all his engines these days, only occasionally being brought out to do some light shunting, and even then it was usually driven by one of the older folks who had stopped by and decided they’d like to lend their hand. But he loved it all the same, it was a spunky little engine, and he’d always found it to be the most reliable of the three.
He was broken from his thoughts as the 4:19 train that had been holding him up finally went by, the driver honking the horn twice, waving to him; to which Brandon responded with two whistle blows and a wave himself.
“Alright Bran, you’re clear to go through.” came Jims voice
“Alrighty, we’ll head through. I’m unloading at the same platform still, right?”
“Yeah just bring ‘er over on track 19.”
Bran grunted in response and the train started forward into the busy yard, maintaining a steady 15 kilometers per hour as it chugged along, banging and clattering as it was switched onto the appropriate track. As he entered a fairly busy stretch of side track that would lead him to the track that lead to the platform he quietly mused about what he would do after the train was unloaded and put away for the day, drumming his hands on the brake lever. Maybe he could swing by Henry’s house...
HOOOOOOOOOONK
He winced, and returned to his thoughts... Henry was always a good host, and he hadn’t seen the guy in a while...
HOOOOOOONK-HONK-HONK-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK
“Fer crying out loud, who doesn’t understand no honking within city l- HOLY FLIPPING SHIT!” He yelled, slamming his brakes on to emergency as he looked forward and saw a red-grey diesel coming head on at him from up the line.
The on-coming train engaged its own breaks and there was a loud screeching as both struggled to stop in time, sparks flying out from under the locomotives and cars before coming to a stop mere feet from each other.
There was a hiss as Brandon stood up in the cab, his chest heaving as he leaned on the brake lever for support, trying to gain control of his nerves again. He remained like that for a few minutes before realizing he wasn’t dead and then feeling a very acute sense of rage. He kicked open the door to the cab and climbed down to the ground. Storming over to the idling diesel through a few clouds of steam that hissed out from the underside of the big boy. “You son of a bitch!” he hollered towards the cab of the diesel “I had bloody clearance here, what, you couldn’t wait the two minutes for me to go by!?”
“You had clearance? YOU had clearance? Don’t give me any of that shit!” came a feminine voice from the cab, the door swinging open, revealing a female wolf climbing down to meet Brandon. She landed on the ground heavily and stormed towards him as well, her teeth bared slightly and hair seemingly standing on end. “This is a special! We get priority on the line over regular freight, or did YOU not get the memo?”
The two came to a stop standing across from each other, just to the left of the gap between the two locomotives.
“What the hell are you doing on this line then? Specials take the main track through the yard so they don’t disrupt the trains trying to get to the unloading docks! But I dunno why I would expect different from a furre!” Brandon shot back
“Oh-ho-ho! You did NOT just go there!” She growled back, unsheathing her claws
Brandon clenched his hands into fists and the two leaned forward, seemingly inches from coming to punches when suddenly Jim’s voice cried out. “WAAIIIITTTTT!!!”
“Wait! Wait *Huff!* It was me! It was me!!” The fairly chubby caucasian man wheezed as he ran up to the two, only to find their anger suddenly focused on him
“WHAT?!” the two cried out in unison, glaring at Jim.
“I forgot to reset one of the points after the 4:19 went through...” he turned to face the wolfess “Layla, it ended up switching your train onto the wrong track. By the time I realized you two were already braking and I couldn’t raise you on the radios!”
The two stared at him incredulously before Brandon broke the silence, throwing up his hands. “Dear God man, you nearly killed us!”
Layla looked over to him and rolled her eyes “Hey I saw you from a mile away, it was you who decided not to brake for 4 minutes, or do human drivers tend to prefer to test their buffers out that way?”
Brandon smirked and shook his head as he felt himself calm down. “Alright, alright, I deserve that...”
“Damn right.” She huffed and started heading back to her train. “I’m gonna back out Jim, let me know when the points are ready!”
Brandon and Jim watched her climb back into the cab, and she blew the horn twice as the train backed out.
The two looked to each other and Brandon sighed “Man it’s a good thing you came up when you did... We were really close to going off the edge.”
Jim shook his head “I can’t really say I blame either of you, almost having a head on collision doesn’t put one in the best state of mind.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Who was that anyways? I haven’t seen very many furre engineers.”
“That was Layla, she got hired by Northwestern a year or so ago! I can let you know more about her later if you’re that interested, but I gotta get back to the signal box.”
Brandon nodded and started walking back to his engine “Alright, I’ll talk to you afterwards. I imagine we’ll need to file an accident report, right?”
“You got it! Get ready for a looooooot of paperwork!”
Brandon rolled his eyes as he started climbing back up the cab of the large locomotive “Well, so much for my evening...”
This is gonna be the first in (yet another) series where I illustrate the adventures of the very last steam engineer in the Canadian Rockies. As well as a relationship that would be considered shocking and unnatural for the time. And how they worked through everything to find wuuuv. Aww.
As always read, enjoy, and if you feel so inclined, review!
Contains:
A steam engine
A steam engineer
A tired white guy
A curse word
A wolf-lady furry person
A Gordon Lightfoot song
Exposition. :I Lots of it. :I
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
“There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run... When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun... Long before the white man and long before the wheel... When the green, dark forests were too silent to be real...”
There were many stories about how countries were created, tales of truth and valour, triumph and struggle to make an inhospitable land home. One such country was Canada, a wide and relatively young nation that was slowly settled from east to west over time... Every part of the country had their own stories about how they were forged, the maritimes were born from the Cod fish industry, the eastern provinces of Quebec and Ontario were created with fire and gunpowder as well as pen and paper. The central prairies provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and most of Alberta were made off of the backs of the hard-working men and women that had settled there. The territories were borne off of men seeking their fortune in the inhospitable frozen north. And the wild western portion of Alberta and British Columbia? Well.... most folks around here like to say that it was won with steam.
At least... That’s what Brandon liked to tell himself. Truth be told, the era of steam in the great Canadian plains and Rocky Mountains was in its twilight hour. The more powerful and lower-maintenance diesel trains had taken over for the most part, and you were far more likely to hear the rumble of a great diesel engine in the middle of the night then you were to hear the chuffs of a steam piston.
Still, he thought to himself as he poked his head out of the window of his formerly Union-Pacific owned 4-8-8-4 ‘Big-Boy’ engine and squinted through the billowing smoke at the track ahead, they hadn’t *quite* take over yet. He checked his speed and hopped down to shovel some more coal into the boiler. The large iron doors creaked open and he felt a blast of hot air in his face as he shoveled in a few piles of coal to help the engine build up some more steam so it could climb the last bit of hill. He was placing the shovel back up on the rack when his radio crackled to life.
“Hey, uh, Bran. Just hold up for a few minutes once you get down the hill, the 4:19 to Cowgalley is running a bit behind, we’re just waiting for them to clear the yard, then you can bring the freight in.” came the fuzzy voice of the Brighton yard-controller, Jim Grender.
Brandon grabbed the mic and pressed the talk button “Alrighty, I’ll get ‘er stopped once we’re at the signal.” He hopped back up into the seat and grasped the train brake control, carefully watching his speed as the massive train began its descent towards the valley.
He’d purchased the locomotive as a cast off from Union-Pacific 4 years ago, and had spent the last two restoring it. And boy, he was sure glad that he did it, as it was one of the few reasons he was still able to keep his job without having to go over to diesels. This train, along with another diesel the company had recently purchased, was the only one that could haul freight of this weight, especially at a consistent speed on the windy mountain tracks. He had two other engines that the company kept on as well. One was a beautiful blue and brown Canadian Pacific 4-6-4 “Hudson” that was used for hauling tourists around a few times a month, or else was on display for the public to look at. Brandon also would dress the carriages up every year after christmas and take the engine on nightly trips through the mountains every night leading up to new years eve, hosting different nights for young children to come aboard, a couples dance night, and even one for the older folks, some of whom would sit with him in the locomotive and reminisce about their days on the rails.. Then, on new years the train would be filled with music, dancing, and laughing as the whole town would come down to celebrate. Brighton was a town founded on the railroad, and so it made sense that the most grand celebration (at least, in Brandons mind) would take place aboard a train. It was a wonderful affair, everyone would dress in their best clothing and they would be taken up the mountain to some land that had been cleared out the week before, and there with a massive bonfire in the middle of a field, and a picturesque steam engine silhouetted against the evening sky, they would dance and sing the night away.
He had always felt very important for being the one who got the honour to ferry everyone up each year, and he figured the main reason was because the soft chugging of the steam locomotive was much nicer to listen to then the low grumbling of a diesel. “Now who’s the idiot for pursuing a steam certification when everyone else was going for a diesel one? Certainly not meeee!” He laughed as he pulled the whistle lever down, and a low WHOOOOSH echoed throughout the valley. “Ah... Now, let’s see...” He poked his head out of the window once more and noticed the red lights off in the distance. “There’s the signal.”
He began to apply more braking power, feeling the heavy cars shudder against each other as the train came to a slow stop just a few feet off of the signal. Brandon groaned and stretched out as he listened to the chatter on the radio, staring out the dusty window at the sunny day. He saw a few puffs of smoke coming from the far eastern end of the yard and he realized that someone had fired up his other train, probably to move a few smaller cars into position. The engine in question was a small tank engine with a large flat boiler and faded green paint that had apparently belonged to a British railway at some point. It got the least amount of use of all his engines these days, only occasionally being brought out to do some light shunting, and even then it was usually driven by one of the older folks who had stopped by and decided they’d like to lend their hand. But he loved it all the same, it was a spunky little engine, and he’d always found it to be the most reliable of the three.
He was broken from his thoughts as the 4:19 train that had been holding him up finally went by, the driver honking the horn twice, waving to him; to which Brandon responded with two whistle blows and a wave himself.
“Alright Bran, you’re clear to go through.” came Jims voice
“Alrighty, we’ll head through. I’m unloading at the same platform still, right?”
“Yeah just bring ‘er over on track 19.”
Bran grunted in response and the train started forward into the busy yard, maintaining a steady 15 kilometers per hour as it chugged along, banging and clattering as it was switched onto the appropriate track. As he entered a fairly busy stretch of side track that would lead him to the track that lead to the platform he quietly mused about what he would do after the train was unloaded and put away for the day, drumming his hands on the brake lever. Maybe he could swing by Henry’s house...
HOOOOOOOOOONK
He winced, and returned to his thoughts... Henry was always a good host, and he hadn’t seen the guy in a while...
HOOOOOOONK-HONK-HONK-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK
“Fer crying out loud, who doesn’t understand no honking within city l- HOLY FLIPPING SHIT!” He yelled, slamming his brakes on to emergency as he looked forward and saw a red-grey diesel coming head on at him from up the line.
The on-coming train engaged its own breaks and there was a loud screeching as both struggled to stop in time, sparks flying out from under the locomotives and cars before coming to a stop mere feet from each other.
There was a hiss as Brandon stood up in the cab, his chest heaving as he leaned on the brake lever for support, trying to gain control of his nerves again. He remained like that for a few minutes before realizing he wasn’t dead and then feeling a very acute sense of rage. He kicked open the door to the cab and climbed down to the ground. Storming over to the idling diesel through a few clouds of steam that hissed out from the underside of the big boy. “You son of a bitch!” he hollered towards the cab of the diesel “I had bloody clearance here, what, you couldn’t wait the two minutes for me to go by!?”
“You had clearance? YOU had clearance? Don’t give me any of that shit!” came a feminine voice from the cab, the door swinging open, revealing a female wolf climbing down to meet Brandon. She landed on the ground heavily and stormed towards him as well, her teeth bared slightly and hair seemingly standing on end. “This is a special! We get priority on the line over regular freight, or did YOU not get the memo?”
The two came to a stop standing across from each other, just to the left of the gap between the two locomotives.
“What the hell are you doing on this line then? Specials take the main track through the yard so they don’t disrupt the trains trying to get to the unloading docks! But I dunno why I would expect different from a furre!” Brandon shot back
“Oh-ho-ho! You did NOT just go there!” She growled back, unsheathing her claws
Brandon clenched his hands into fists and the two leaned forward, seemingly inches from coming to punches when suddenly Jim’s voice cried out. “WAAIIIITTTTT!!!”
“Wait! Wait *Huff!* It was me! It was me!!” The fairly chubby caucasian man wheezed as he ran up to the two, only to find their anger suddenly focused on him
“WHAT?!” the two cried out in unison, glaring at Jim.
“I forgot to reset one of the points after the 4:19 went through...” he turned to face the wolfess “Layla, it ended up switching your train onto the wrong track. By the time I realized you two were already braking and I couldn’t raise you on the radios!”
The two stared at him incredulously before Brandon broke the silence, throwing up his hands. “Dear God man, you nearly killed us!”
Layla looked over to him and rolled her eyes “Hey I saw you from a mile away, it was you who decided not to brake for 4 minutes, or do human drivers tend to prefer to test their buffers out that way?”
Brandon smirked and shook his head as he felt himself calm down. “Alright, alright, I deserve that...”
“Damn right.” She huffed and started heading back to her train. “I’m gonna back out Jim, let me know when the points are ready!”
Brandon and Jim watched her climb back into the cab, and she blew the horn twice as the train backed out.
The two looked to each other and Brandon sighed “Man it’s a good thing you came up when you did... We were really close to going off the edge.”
Jim shook his head “I can’t really say I blame either of you, almost having a head on collision doesn’t put one in the best state of mind.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Who was that anyways? I haven’t seen very many furre engineers.”
“That was Layla, she got hired by Northwestern a year or so ago! I can let you know more about her later if you’re that interested, but I gotta get back to the signal box.”
Brandon nodded and started walking back to his engine “Alright, I’ll talk to you afterwards. I imagine we’ll need to file an accident report, right?”
“You got it! Get ready for a looooooot of paperwork!”
Brandon rolled his eyes as he started climbing back up the cab of the large locomotive “Well, so much for my evening...”
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 119.9 kB
Comments