The morning was plagued by scattered rainfall. My family and I stood at the station waiting for our train to arrive. Soaked but excited, I watched as the steam locomotive pulled into the station. Hissing and grinding and making loud chuffs, it was in complete contrast with the beauty of nature that surrounded it. The loud six-chime whistle blew as the train stopped at the platform.

We boarded the train and found our seats in an open-air train car. The smell of smoke and pine sap filled the air like cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. It was pleasant. It was soothing. It was incredible.

The train blew its whistle once more, and before I knew it, we were riding the rails. The sights at first were incredible. The beautiful details in the rock that surrounded us were immaculate. It was like nothing I had ever seen. The locomotive then took us through a thick pine forest. The smell of smoke contrasted with the refreshing smell of the sweet forest air.

The train’s whistle blew once again — approaching a grade crossing at Palmer Gulch. The melancholy notes of the whistle echoed through the valley. About 10 miles in the distance stood the largest mountain east of the Rockies — Black Elk Peak. The scenery was dotted with Ponderosa pine, like a piece of mosaic artwork.

The train’s hissing and puffing could be heard for miles in every direction as we crossed that gulch. The beautiful sights of nature complemented well with the notes of the steam locomotive. It was as if the train was a part of nature — like a bird singing its song.