Reading: The Indian in the Cupboard to Daniel, still. We're both enjoying it.

First Train Ride

Yesterday we took the boys for a ride on the Black River & Western railroad, an old-fashioned steam train that runs between Flemington and Ringoes. This is something I've wanted to do every fall for the past few years, but we never got around to doing it. This year we finally made it.

We picked up my mother-in-law in Lambertville and drove to nearby Flemington, about ten miles away. Flemington is a town with a split personality. On one side is the venerable, tree-lined Main Street with its graceful nineteenth-century houses, boutiques, and tony restaurants. Existing cheek by jowl with old Flemington, however, are shopping complexes filled with outlet stores.

We were disappointed when we arrived at the depot to see that the steam engine was not going to be pulling our train. Instead, a diesel engine was hooked up. The conductor said that they have been having a problem with the well water in Ringoes they use; the high mineral content makes it difficult to get a full head of steam.

We boarded the train and found three seats together in one of the old-style cars. Daniel sat with Tab, Matthew with his grandmother, and Stephen with me. The boys glued themselves to their windows and there they stayed for most of the trip, except for Daniel who fell asleep about midway to Ringoes. The poor little guy was exhausted, having worked hard at his swimming lesson that morning.

The trip to Ringoes took about forty minutes. Looking out the window, I saw car dealerships and cows, highways and fields, a golf course and a tree farm, all examples of the wonderful incongruity that is central New Jersey.

I always thought autumn would be the perfect time to ride this train since part of the trip is through the wooded countryside. The fall color could have been better, but this summer's drought took its toll. Still, we saw some lovely shades of red and gold. On some stretches, the trees grew so close to the track that the branches almost brushed the train windows as we passed by.

At the stop in Ringoes, some of the passengers meandered down the hill to a nearby farm stand and returned flourishing decorative gourds or lugging heavy pumpkins. Others visited the tiny snack bar and gift shop; soon several kids were making pests of themselves with their wooden train whistles. We wandered about the little depot, looking at the various inoperative train cars. The boys especially liked the little yellow caboose. Daniel found a piece of coal, which he found particularly intriguing, having been cautioned in the past that Santa would only leave him coal in his Christmas stocking if he were bad.

The day was partly cloudy and chilly. We were glad of the potbellied stove on the train car when we reboarded for our trip back to Flemington. Once again, the boys gazed out the window in rapt fascination. I'm glad, now, that we had not taken this train ride in years past. I'm not sure the twins would have been able to sit still long enough to enjoy it before now. They all had a good time and thanked us for bringing them. I wonder how many of these family outings they will remember in years to come?

previous       index       e-mail me       next