A look ahead, as later this month sees me off on another private railroad car adventure.

A round-trip from Emeryville to Denver, crossing the Sierra and the Rockies, hopefully with plenty of snow. It’s been a while and this promises to be a good trip with a select group of travelers. Using a car we have traveled aboard a few trips before. And of course, I intend to share moments from this trip with you, loyal readers.

I’ve been lucky enough to have had more than my fair share of adventures that have taken me places that the average tourist doesn’t give any thought to. And I have been lucky enough to have shared those adventures with good friends.

Yes, a lot of miles. A lot of miles… More than a few of them to places that the average person would need to look three or four times to find on any map, let alone understand why anyone would travel there.

Take this one for example.

It was a trip to a ridge of a hill in central Nevada. A spot that overlooks a bend in the Humboldt River, out in Eureka County. A road, a dirt one, does lead to the spot and if you really track down the place, you will see it on Google Maps. In the big picture of things, it is place that doesn’t matter much. Yet, friends and I made the trip there a while back.

We were out in this part of the Silver State on what could best be described as a photographic expedition. Back in the era before digital cameras, when Kodachrome 64 ruled the world of photography, the goal was to get the best quality images and use the least amount of exposures in doing so. Okay, so I was shooting black and white film just because it was different from that of everyone else. Not to mention that I have found black and white allows a greater way to take advantage of light and shadow…

So, why was I there? A worthy question.

Not far from where we were that day was the spot where the streamliner City of San Francisco derailed at what the Southern Pacific called Harney, on August 12, 1939. At 9:39 pm that night, while passing over the fourth crossing of the Humboldt River, the train left the rails. The result was the deaths of 24 and injuries to 121 passengers and crew. Officially, the railroad blamed sabotage and the incident remains unsolved to this day, despite a $10,000 reward having been offered by the Southern Pacific.

My own connection to the location is a family one, as my great grandfather, Chris Walker, was a locomotive engineer with the Southern Pacific, and he later ran the City between Sparks and Carlin (along the route through Palisade Canyon and over these same rails).

Two other points figure into the area with Chris. In November of 1881, not long after his birth the previous month, his father had opened The Pioneer Saloon in a nearby mining camp, called Safford; not far from this location.

And Chris had a memorable incident one day in the years after the end of World War II, while running the City through the same area. As related by his fireman, Jack Bradley, when they took over the train from the incoming crew at Carlin, the previous engineer complained that the diesel electric locomotives powering the train that day were not up to standard. They had trouble maintaining the usual 90 miles per hour speed. The train was almost an hour late at that point. Quite the embarrassment and one that would not go unnoticed by the big brass. Someone would have some explaining to do.

So Chris and Jack headed off west from Carlin, through Palisade Canyon. The hope was that they could coax a bit more speed out of the locomotives and make up some of that lost time out on the open range across country. But things changed as they came out of the Canyon and were heading for the next manned station at Beowawe.

A track section gang had were getting their tools and track car clear of the mainline as Chris and Jack approached them around a corner. Chris later recalled that he only had a split second to act and he lifted his foot off of the dead man pedal. This was designed so that if the engineer should become disabled, he would not be able to keep his foot pressing on the pedal. By lifting it up, the electricity that powered motors on the axles of the locomotive was interrupted and the train braking system automatically went into a full emergency application.

The track crew all got clear, with the exception of one man who was still holding onto the track gang car as it was hit by the train. He suffered a broken arm and shoulder from the impact. Once the train came to a stop, Chris and Jack checked on the track crew and then consulted with the train’s conductors as to the passengers. While it had been a rough stop, no one was injured. That was something Chris was intensely proud of years later after he retired in 1951; no passenger aboard any of his trains had ever been injured.

The train was inspected at the scene and the decision made to head for the station at Battle Mountain, some 30 miles west – albeit at a much restricted speed. When they arrived, it became obvious that this would be a very long day for Chris, Jack and everyone else on the City that day. Every wheel in the train had been flattened by the emergency stop. With over 200 miles to go to Sparks, it was going to be a very slow and bumpy trip.

Eventually, Chris and Jack used up all of the 16 hours of on duty time they had. Years later, Jack remembered the meal they were served in the train’s dining car, by a crew from the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad (one of the trains partners, which also included the Union Pacific.) When the train finally reached Sparks, it was annulled and the passengers heading west, put on another train.

So, with all of those points of history, how could I not have made the trip to that spot? But that’s only one of many adventures, and I hope to have many more.

Yes, there certainly is a lot of noise about.

Of course, politics takes up a fair bit of bandwidth. Lots of chatter and not much being actually listened to on all sides. After a while, you kind of just want to tune it all out. The easy way to deal with it right? In a way, I can understand why some folks just don’t vote and take everything as it happens. Yet, I also see that if you don’t stand up to things now and then, by doing something as simple as casting your ballot, then you really don’t have much to complain about.

No question about it, there is plenty going on nowadays. You got your global warming, your business economics, your trade imbalances, your entertainment choices, your health, your family… it just goes on and on, doesn’t it?

I get it. Times can lead you to have changes in your priorities. Where once upon a time, you had plenty of disposable income to spend on the latest and greatest, that may not be the case for you right now. Other things have made their way to the front of the line and your focus may be on them. Sure, we all have those moments. Maybe your own health, maybe the health of a family member or friend. Maybe your transportation has decided this is the time to demand repairs or maybe a new set of tires? Whatever it may be, that’s the issue in need of your attention.

Honestly, there isn’t anything wrong in that. Nor is there anything wrong with the other side of the coin. If it makes you happy to spend all that disposable income, there are plenty of businesses out there at all levels waiting to give you an opportunity to do just that. More power to you.

As the years pass by, it becomes less for me about the collectibles from all of the events and more about the people who I shared experiences with. Those are the treasured moments. The memories of smiles and some tears, too. A great bottle of wine or a good cigar, the laughs and good times; those are the kind of things you can’t put a price on. And down the road, those are the things you can look back upon.

Yes, sir… plenty of times ahead and behind. All worth it. Go out and get some.

So… The NBC television show “Timeless” aired it’s last produced two episodes.

I know that for some folks this was big news. When last we saw the show, there was a cliff hanger ending, all to set up the next season of the show. Unfortunately, the network just didn’t see viewer numbers worthy of that third season and announced the show was among those going “on hiatus.

TV is indeed a funny thing. All kinds of great shows get pitched by some very talented people to the various networks and new media outlets. Rare is the one that actually has a pilot show produced, let alone aired for the viewing public. And the odds to get a full season pick up? Even higher against. The fact that “Timeless” managed to get two seasons worth of shows aired is pretty good, when you come right down to it.

But the fact is, television is an expensive proposition. If the stories are to be believed, Timeless cost $4 million an episode to produce for broadcast. The days of episodes for under $100,000 are long gone. Advertisers may not even cover today’s costs, so the production company hopes that a show will bring forth a profit at some point.

I’m am unabashed fan of time travel television. From CBS’s “You Are There” to ABC and Irwin Allen with “The Time Tunnel”, to Fox and “Sliders”, to NBC and “Quantum Leap”.

But “Timeless”? Call me a curmudgeon, but I just never got involved as I had with those other shows. And the whole Rittenhouse/bad guy thing never really seemed worth investing time in. Although, the “putting right, what once went wrong” had been a big part of why I enjoyed “Quantum Leap”.

After everything “Timeless” had been through, it all came down to killing one conspirator at a point in time to save another character, with the brave death of another. Author Gladys Taber said that she felt killing off characters was a cheap writers device when they couldn’t think of anything else. And in this case, I heartily agree. It was all too easy and all too neat, wrapped up tightly to get the heroes home and safe.

Good story telling always takes unexpected turns. Audiences need to see the thing they don’t expect. Think of a “wild mouse” roller coaster. Some of what makes if most fun is the unexpected sharp turns, especially when you don’t anticipate them.

In the case of “Timeless” what we got was everything we expected. And that was a problem for me. I would have much rather seen the team have to work for a solution. It just wasn’t as satisfying an ending as it deserved.

Rarely does anything end up clean and neat.

Maybe audiences can get better in the next television series that treads into the alternate universes of time travel.

It’s shortly after midnight. Christmas morning.

Visions of sugar plums and all that, right? Yes, there are plenty of children around the world and a few adults all dreaming of what lies in store for them later today. Gifts opened, admired; comfortable breakfast table scenes playing out as planned. Later, perhaps the Christmas dinner.

Sure, the whole thing goes back to the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, a cornerstone moment in the Christian religious movement. Scholars debate whether the actual birth took place in winter or if it was in a summer month. Others point to the Roman feasting time of Saturnalia, as a “period of feasting and general merrymaking” as Google puts it. Yes, it is possible that elders in the early church co-opted the holidays to make Christmas appeal to a wider audience. Still others look back and claim the Yuletide as being a celebration surrounding the Winter Solstice.

Any way you want to slice the proverbial fruit cake, it’s a good excuse to party. Get together with family and friends. Look back upon the year, appreciate life as it came to be and then invite a new year into the picture.

Round the world, folks take this time of year to gather their clans and share good fortune with one another. Feuds may be forgotten for a short while as the prodigals are welcomed to the table to break bread, be reminded of who they are and just how they got to be there. All in all, not a bad idea when you think on it. Families and friends all around the table.

But when we look back on the whole birth of Christ, we should give pause and think on some simple facts about the story.

It is the story of travelers – a man and a pregnant wife – who had no one to go to and they found no room at an inn. Instead, their baby was delivered in a stable and placed in a manger. It was nothing special or elegant, just the simple start of one life here on this planet we call Earth.

In today’s world, even with prosperity and technology, there are still too many men, women and children living in similar or worse situations to that stable of long ago. These 21st Century people have no permanent dwellings to call home, no decent water or food, little clothing, no education and no health care of any kind. Yes, in 2000 plus years, the world has come a long way, but we still have a long way to go. When we find ourselves at the point where no one lives marginalized in any way, when who they are matters less than how they live, basic decency and comfort all the rights of each person, respected for simply being.

Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol” first published in 1843, with its tale of redemption continues to ring true with readers and audiences today. Dickens offered a warning that we still need to pay attention to. For even in this enlightened age, much of what he mentions in this short passage is still true:

It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children’s Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey.

“Are spirits’ lives so short?” asked Scrooge.

“My life upon this globe, is very brief,” replied the Ghost. “It ends to-night.”

“To-night!” cried Scrooge.

“To-night at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near.”

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.

“Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,” said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe, “but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?”

“It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it,” was the Spirit’s sorrowful reply. “Look here.”

From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.

“Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost.

They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

“Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.

“They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And bide the end!”

I don’t have answers to give to all of this. But I do agree that if we all took what makes this day special to us and spread it more throughout our year, we may leave this world better than we found it.

In the end, what more can be said of any us?

A happy Christmas to one and all.

May your cup include enough kindness for everyone, every where.