Reruns at Campo

It was both odd and nice to leave Yuma and not have to look at a map, for I know the way to the RR museum. Roaming around as I do, this is rare.

I got lots of warm welcoming emails when I said I was coming back, and lots of hugs from those who are up here so far. It seems I am a member of the family, and that getting things done and having some laughs are looked forward to. Very gratifying to be appreciated.

I had wondered if coming here was going to make me really miss Don, and I have had a few moments where I expected him to come around the corner in his striped RR man overalls, and some moments when there was something I really wanted to tell him. But pretty much it’s OK about that.

However, I have returned just about at the time when we left last year, in the middle of the preparations for the dreaded Bunny Train. This is an attempt to build riders on the train, by giving some added value. This consists of an Easter Egg Hunt for plastic eggs (which must be re-hidden twice a day) and then some crafty time (all of which has to be set up twice a day), and all of this cleaned up at the end of the day. This only happens on Saturdays, and Sundays but it is a LOT of work, and then there are the rather half hearted attempts to decorate the big train display building.

Until this year, the riders paid no extra, and quite a bit of money was spent on candy and etc, which we hardly have enough of in any case, and this year especially.

It has been a really hard year for PSRM.

They set some small fires, and put them out, but CalFire decided that the entire way had to be cleared of all vegetation for 25 feet on both sides. This included 40 year old trees and was way more than needed (we suspect someone made a political faux pas to get them so mad at us). The entire broiling summer was spent doing this clearing, exhausting and discouraging the volunteers, and as we could not run any trains, no income came in. The trains began to run again in Sept.

Our monthly trip down into Mexico, which has always been a good money maker, is stopped due to a fire in one of the tunnels. The Mexican gummet says they intend to fix it, but no one knows when.

Right now, we have very few riders, and so on alternate weekends run a small railbus, taking riders to a truck museum and to another history museum. This requires less personnel to run and less fuel. And on top of that, we have fewer and fewer folks who are qualified and willing to run the trains, and a general sense that those who do know how don’t want to train new ones.

My personal problem is with the woman who is president. She has a noisy and unpleasant personality, and generally bad mouths everyone, often to their face. She has run off three very useful workampers with her tactless behavior, and I suspect she is making it less and less fun to be at the museum for all the volunteers. She comes with her 4 children who shriek and smack each other just as she shrieks and smacks them. I can hardly keep my mouth shut. Last year I didn’t after she was complaining about something I did ( some asshole….) and told her off but good. I’m now, after an afternoon with them of decorating for the Bunny Train, feeling much the same way: tired of working too hard, and tired of listening to her, and all for nothing.

Today, Sunday, I had no assigned duties, so I stayed away. And watched as our guests had to walk from the depot to the display building, instead of getting even a railbus ride. The railbus is too balky to use, our small engine is up on blocks until the wheels are unsharpened and replaced, and the big diesel is needing its maintenance. These are all very elderly vintage beasts, so it’s a little to be expected. But it all adds to a general feeling that my beloved museum is at a very low point.

During the week, I will continue to do projects on the rehab of the little depot. So far, I’m priming and painting 40 + sheets of t-111 siding. It is picky, thirsty stuff, so it goes very slow, but it feels useful and mostly I get to do it in peace and quiet.

I drove up to Julian to meet my friends from Tucson, where we shopped and ate lunch, and then wandered and shopped to make room for the famous Julian Apple Pie. (Although I actually had strawberry rhubarb). It is a nifty drive there with mountain views around every curve, and I came back another way that follows the edge of the Anza Borrego desert far below. I have to get there soon, the wildflowers will be amazing after all this rain.

Mostly it is very peaceful here, and the weather is good. I can look out over the big grassy field with the cows and their calves, watch the local feral cats and coyotes hunt in the sage brush. It will be good to stay put for a while, where I know where the bank and the stores are, and where to get a hair cut, and generally what to expect day by day. Although I have referred to this place as our museum, I feel less and less attached to it, and less inclined to worry about its problems. I can’t really do much about them, just paint and fix and clean a little while I’m here. Kind of like a part of my family that has to make its own way.