I lifted my face to the cool breeze as it tossed a loose paper across the platform. Heat settled around this place and the scent of coal smoke permeated the air. A whistle sounded in the distance and I began to bounce my knee in anticipation. In the distance, the rumble of steel against steel promised the pending arrival of the iron beast we all awaited.

As the rumble grew louder, a piercing whistle joined in. All eyes unconsciously followed the clamor. It was hard to say what I saw first, the black of the smoke or of the steel. As the engine rolled to a stop, near the platform, the whistle gave way to the persistent ringing of the train’s bell that called everyone to action.

The conductor swung his upper body from the open door and his voice joined the cacophony of sound. As he called out commands, steps were placed at each car, baggage carts positioned and people rose from their seats, gathering their belongings together. Passengers stepped down, some with bags in hand ending their journey, others scanning the crowd for the peddlers who would supply food, drink or newspapers. Those peddlers were young boys balancing wooden trays strapped around their necks. As they wove their way through the crowd they began to call out, “Apples, Pears, Ham Sandwiches, Fried pies, Bread and Cheese”.

The tap, tap of a gentleman’s cane drew my eyes. A man in overalls passed with a wooden cart following behind him. Children laughed and ran around a weary woman’s skirts.

Through all of this, the train engine sat hissing lowly, ever reminding us that she was the queen of this place. She was the one that needed to be fed the black coal. The white steam seeped from the boiler hinting that water would be required before miles could be covered.

In no time, the conductor called, “All aboard,” and the crowd started to move as one. The engine began to breathe out steam and smoke, growing louder with each puff. As the clamor reached a crescendo, billows of soot hung close to the smokestack. Men darted to pull away the steps, doors were slid shut. Everyone settled into seats, some waved as friends bid them farewell.

I recently sat on a train platform, closed my eyes and imagined it was 1900 and I was the one waiting on the train. In my imagination, I was about to embark on a grand expedition. Sadly, my trip lasted only 15 minutes and circled Dollywood’s theme park. But the sounds and smells of the steam engine were absolutely authentic.

The 192 engine Dollywood is operating is the real deal, manufactured in 1943 and originally used in Alaska. Steam locomotives are monstrous machines that transformed the American landscape, opened up the western half of the country and revolutionized logistics.

We’ve talked here before about how the arrival of the Tennessee Central changed the Cumberland Plateau. Prior to the 1890’s, the vast natural resources of the Highland Rim were virtually locked away from the growing cities of Nashville, Knoxville, Chattanooga and beyond. We’ve also explored how the culture of the mountain people remained unaffected for so long due to our remote location. Once the railroad began running, all of that changed.

I think there is something incredibly romantic about riding the rails. I don’t know if it’s because it’s a glimpse of a bygone era or if it’s because you can sit back and see the country you’re traveling through. I find myself rushing around so much that I miss the world that’s passing by me. Even when I’m driving, the wheels in my head are running away with plans and thoughts of what I need to do when I get where I’m going. Do you think the folks on those grand expeditions a hundred years ago were able to sit back and enjoy the view from the train window?