Today’s journey, following the railway tracks, took me into a pretty large town. This must have been a fairly busy hub, as the train track branched out in several different directions shortly after the station. It took me hours of tracking and back-tracking to make sure I followed the right track, and the direction the train would have gone given the way the points were switched.
I’m sure breaking into the switching box buildings and getting the tracks all pointing in the chosen direction was something that took the gang a while each time they came to a station like this one, so I’m not terribly concerned I have lost too much time, but it’s still frustrating. Especially when I’m a few miles down a side track (literally) and starting to have doubts that I’ve gone in the right direction.
It wasn’t until I came around a corner in the track and could see past the overgrown hedges on the side that I saw the back of the last carriage slowly trundling along. I’ve found it!
Inching along the track at less than walking pace, the gang is making as little sound as possible, and also being careful that they don’t run into fallen trees or other hazards in the easily derailed train. A derailed train would be nearly impossible to right again without the essential tools and knowledge, so they take it very carefully as they go. Well, what hurry are they in anyway? It’s not like they’re late for a brain-implant appointment. The carriages themselves are high enough off the ground to provide relative safety, and the mobility simply adds to that safety. Just by moving along slowly, you can almost guarantee to not come under attack.
That is until I catch you…