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Rob Bergh
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| Location: | Cape Cod, MA |
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Posted: Thu Feb 28th, 2008 01:43 am |
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Tom,
Griffin will not sit still long enough to let me braid his hair...
We do still have a railroad of sorts operating here on Cape, from Hyannis westward. They run scenic "dinner" trains in season, and haul trash off-Cape for recycling.
There's also Edaville Railroad, just off-Cape in South Carver, MA, that runs a Steam Engine from time-to-time. Great place to take the kids.
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Destry Hoffard
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Posted: Fri Feb 29th, 2008 04:31 pm |
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Tom,
Don't confuse us with good sense as far as the LL Bean thing goes, we just wanna be mad dammit. *wink*
Train travel is my favorite way to go. I've taken the "City of New Orleans" from Carbondale, IL all the way to the end of it's run several times on my various hunting trips to Louisiana.
There's nothing like taking the rails to go gunning somewhere. It's as close to the old days as you can get in my opinion.
Destry
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Brad Wellons
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Posted: Fri Feb 29th, 2008 07:13 pm |
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Destry Hoffard wrote:
Train travel is my favorite way to go. I've taken the "City of New Orleans" from Carbondale, IL all the way to the end of it's run several times on my various hunting trips to Louisiana.
There's nothing like taking the rails to go gunning somewhere. It's as close to the old days as you can get in my opinion.
Destry
Totally agree here Destry. The "City of New Orleans" is a favorite train to catch here in Jackson for travel down to the Queen city. Down here noone even blinks twice a hunters hopping on board the train for a trip to the Bayous.
I have even been known to ride the "City" back up north to Chicago/Carbondale, but never with guns, except once when heading to duck camps up around Memphis. Speaking of going north to hunt, I just had lunch with an old college buddy who was telling me that his duck club just bought a whole slough of land on the corner of Tunica Cutoff. He hunted it once this year and said it was just loaded with ducks. We are definitely going back and hunting it next year.
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Tom Flanigan
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Posted: Fri Feb 29th, 2008 11:34 pm |
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| "The City of New Orleans" is my favorite song by Arlo Guthrie. Like his father Woodie ("This Land is Your Land") Arlo has captured the spirit of the old train as well as America in his song.
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Dean Romig
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Posted: Fri Feb 29th, 2008 11:42 pm |
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| Back to L. L. Bean. . . Last day of the Vermont deer season 2007. Attached Image (viewed 260 times):
 Last edited on Fri Feb 29th, 2008 11:43 pm by Dean Romig
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Destry Hoffard
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 12:03 am |
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I've climbed onto that train with a cooler full of ducks and my shotgun broken down in my duffle then other times I've crawled onto it wondering why I didn't remember Friday/Saturday. All times well spent, some of my best days have been in and around The Big Easy be they chasing ducks or chasing other things.
Tom if you've never heard it, there's a little more to "This Land is My Land" than you hear in the standard version. There are a couple more verses that didn't make the final cut but that he did record. I had a copy ages ago but have lost it in all my moves.
Brad I'll expect to hear from you boys with a hot duck shooting invite anyday. *wink*
DLH
Last edited on Sat Mar 1st, 2008 12:05 am by Destry Hoffard
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Tom Flanigan
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 01:02 am |
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Destry, taking a train to a gunning destination is a special treat. When I was a boy before I was old enough to drive, I used to take the old New York Central train from Pawling and go north, on occasion, to get to an uncle's place for the weekend and hunt some "foreign" partridge coverts. My mother dropped me off at the train station on Friday night after school and drove up to Uncle John's place to pick me up on Sunday. I always had my cased Parker and Rusty my grouse dog and best friend. Rusty and I were always a hit with the passengers who enjoyed seeing a boy and a dog on the train.
One time there was a new conductor who wouldn't let me take Rusty on board. My mother jumped all over the guy and told him in no uncertain terms that I took the train with my dog many times before and that I was taking it again, regardless of what he said. She helped me lift Rusty up on the first step of the train to show her defiance of that small man's order. She was wonderful and along with my grandfather always encouraged my hunting and fishing. She often drove me long distances to visit gun shops in and around White Plains, New York. These shops often had a few Parkers on the rack and while I couldn't afford to buy one, they were fun to look at and handle.
Below is a 44 year old picture of my beloved Rusty, Parker and some of my birds hanging in my uncle's yard. I'd give a lot to be able to turn the clock back for just one day.
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Dean Romig
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 01:21 am |
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My Dad used to take the train from North Station in Boston to St. Johnsbury, Vt. for the first week od deer season each year. Mother would go along with us kids in tow so she could bring the '51 Ford beach wagon back home. While waiting at North Station for Dad's return one Sunday night we had the pleasure of meeting Walter Brennan and his wife and Mother was quite charmed by his engaging kindness.
Years later, after I had started going up to "deer camp" with Dad and his cronies, I would sometimes find it necessary to make my own way to deer camp so, as in times past, Mother would drop me off at North Station. It was always an adventure to board the train with gear and cased .30-.30 as other passengers eyed me and my gear knowing exactly what I was up to. Many of them would engage me in conversation asking many questions about hunting and the outdoors. Kinda made me feel special.
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Larry Frey
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 11:42 am |
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Dean it's a good thing it was the last day of the season. Looking closely in the upper left corner of that photo indicates supplies were running low.
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Dean Romig
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 03:27 pm |
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I was waiting for someone to catch that but I thought it would be Rich Anderson 
But, you're right. . . we were gettin' down to the sediment 
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Destry Hoffard
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 05:36 pm |
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Good stories from everybody. Glad to know some others feel the same as me about the trains. I wonder how much longer you'll be able to do this kind of thing. I need to make one more grand trip to Louisiana on "The City", maybe this fall. EDM was wanting to go this year on one of our traditional jaunts but my dance card was a little too full. We've always driven in the past when he went along, but maybe I can talk him into riding the rails next time.
Destry
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TERRY HARPER
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Posted: Sat Mar 1st, 2008 09:50 pm |
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This thread has gone to a special corner of my heart.
My Grandfather, Great Grandfather and most of my Great Uncles worked for the Canadian Pacific. My Great grandfather spent his first years in the New Country building the Bangor & Aroostook. Needless to say I have a fondness for the shiny rails too. While I missed the golden age of rail I tried to make that up and spent time restoring a Maine Central Steam locomotive, firing on the 2 ft. gauge and jacking two locomotives out of the mud in the Allagash. Once the railroad bug bites its all over.
The good news is today you can ride the rails all the way to Portland, Me. with a short car ride to L.L. Beans. The best news is that if all goes well you may, in the near furture ride the rails within a block of the famed store. Sure wish those old wooden stairs had stayed the same.
Best regards,
Terry
P.S. Every fall we visit the old girls on our annual Allagash Bird hunt.
Last edited on Sat Mar 1st, 2008 09:51 pm by TERRY HARPER
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Tom Flanigan
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 02:30 am |
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Terry, what a wonderful heritage and picture. I hope those engines will be restored some day. It takes a ton of money and skilled labor but hopefully they will once again ride the rails. There is nothing in the world quite like the sound of a steam whistle. Are there any plans to restore those engines?
How are the partridge populations holding up in the Allagash country?
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TERRY HARPER
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 12:20 pm |
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Thanks Tom,
Unfortunatly the chances of these two locomotives gracing the rails once again is slim. They are in a small clearing at the south end of Eagle Lake where they where abandonded in 1933. The only way to get to them is by a 18 mile canoe ride or a two mile hike through the woods. Hopefully, they will get a new coat of paint at some point.
The Partridge were fantastic. There were a lot of hunters but most were scouting for opening day of the moose hunt. Most bird hunters we encountered were locals just in for the day.
We camped near 2nd Mesquecook Lake rather then Churchill as we have in the past. We lucked out and found a network of older logging roads that were not being visited by the patroling heater hunters. The entrance was nearly blocked off with Alders thus they hadn't hit the area. However, pushing through on foot it opened up into about 4 miles of wonderful hunting terrain winding along hardwood ridges with a light mix of softwood and through cedar lowlands. The shooting was fast and close.
Nothing beats a bright fall morning in such a wonderful area with a bit of frost clinging to the grass and the sound of the birds scittering along on the crunchy leaves. It was one of those hunts were the misses are as much fun as the hits. I was using an old Rverside Arms SxS 12 with 2-1/2" 3 Dram BP loads. The smoke was a hindrance at times but the fun factor was at least a 10.5.
As a bonus at the end of the last day we came across quite a number of Woodcock. We didn't partake but its great to know they are there and in number.
I think it was the best season in a long time.
Best regards,
Terry
Last edited on Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 12:29 pm by TERRY HARPER
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Bill Murphy
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 01:33 pm |
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| In the late seventies, a couple of friends and I planned a trip to a moose and fishing lodge that one of them owned and once operated about 100 miles north of Sault Ste. Marie on the Algoma Central. It was an old fashioned cabin lodge with no road access for the many years that my friend operated it. The main lodge building was right out of L.L.Bean, a monstrous classic log hunting lodge. We drove to Sault Ste. Marie and contacted my friend's guide and pilot and appraised him of our arrival time at the lodge by rail. The pilot had interesting news. A native resident had managed to traverse the thirty miles or so of logging road from the paved road almost to the lodge on a wide front tractor he had purchased recently. It was reputedly the first vehicle trip on that road for ten years or more. He said the road was rough and grown over, but the main beams of a couple of old bridges were intact and could be crossed by a full sized truck if the beams were dry and a guide was posted. The roadbed boards were only for the imagination, those that ever existed being salvaged by locals years ago. That was enough for me. I volunteered to drive to the entrance to the "old road" and take a look at it. I thought my old '72 two wheel drive Suburban would be up to the task. I thought the eleven inch tires on all four corners would fit on the bridge beams and with three men and shovels, any other obstacles would be minor. Of course, we foolishly did not inquire about the separation of the bridge beams which ultimately only allowed contact with the outer six or seven inches of tire on my truck. Some of these bridges were apparently made without cross boards, the log trucks running on the wide beams only. Long story short, with much care and lots of foolhardy behavior, we made it across the bridges and to the lodge missing only the exhaust system on the Suburban, but with both spare tires intact. I do have pictures of some of the wetter parts of the trip, the Suburban fording some rather deep areas of the road. We spent a wonderful week in pursuit of moose, not thinking once about the trip out. The liquor must have lasted to the end because I have absolutely no recollection of the trip out and have no photographic evidence of that part of the trip. I never did get to experience the trip on the Algoma Central train to moose camp. Last edited on Tue Mar 4th, 2008 12:13 am by Bill Murphy
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Tom Flanigan
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 03:29 pm |
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| Oh my gosh, the target bustin Mr. Murphy hunting moose.....who would have thought!! The guy is chock full of surprises including some of the Parkers he manages to find somehow. I'm hoping that he was using an old Savage 99 in .300 Savage caliber with the shell counter and will entertain the thought of selling it to me. I know he's got one of them, he's got everything else.
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TERRY HARPER
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 05:12 pm |
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That is a sweet story!
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King Brown
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 06:30 pm |
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| Bill, in my book, that makes you an honorary Canadian. For days now, in well-below freezing temperature and snow squalls, I've been pruning in our little vineyard. My friends vacationing in Phoenix and Florida think I'm crazy. I remind them we live in a northern country and if I had anything to do with it they'd lose their Canadian citizenship for not living here. Vacations are fine but running at the first snowflake for the sun isn't Canadian. Destry, now, he's another honorary Canadian in my book. He roughs it here, too. Thanks for the story.
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Richard Flanders
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 06:44 pm |
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Great story Bill. My grandfather used to hunt with friends around Thunder Bay north of Lk Superior. He shot a moose up there in the 40's and had the hide suede tanned at full thickness. I still have what's left of it upstairs in a drawer; some of it is around 1/4" thick. I've made everything from belts to hair barrettes to knife sheaths to sandals out of it over the years. I have his old leather handled Marbles skinning knife in a sheath I made from it upstairs on the dresser. The leather is still in fine condition. I have some old pictures of them in a cabin up there also.
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Fred Preston
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Posted: Sun Mar 2nd, 2008 11:22 pm |
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| In '52 or '53 my Dad took my brother and me up North for a two week canoe trip. We tied the "Avenger", a heavy 18' Grumman, on the Roadmaster and drove up to the Canadian Sault where we boarded the Algoma Central in the morning. We loaded the canoe and our gear into the baggage car and took a seat in the coach. Dad told the conductor where we wanted to be put off (about 200 miles north) and the train was duly stopped next to a lake (Wabatangushi if I remember right) and we disembarked and the train went on its way. A couple weeks later we crossed the rail line again, waited for the daily southbound, flagged it down, loaded up and boarded and were on our way home. My brother and I made the same trip a couple more times in the fifties. My brother still uses the Avenger around his home in northern Florida.
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