Off the Tracks

Once long ago one of my sons played in a baseball tournament in Superior Wisconsin.  The fields were right next to a rail yard.  There were lots of battered old cabooses on sidings there.  We learned that they were for sale.  I was just a little tempted, although it is one of those things you would take on as a project and instantly start regretting.

Fast forward 13 years, or for my son, half a lifetime.

Between work shifts I sleep, idle about, look for ways to get some exercise.  I had heard that there was a caboose parked overlooking a small lake near our cabin.  It was a goodly hiking distance, but I can't deny that my legs need the work.  So off I went. 

From blacktop road to dirt road to overgrown game trail I set off in what I thought was the right direction.  I did not see the No Trespassing signs so common in these parts, but I must admit that when you start going cross country you might miss a few.

Soon I hit what looked like logging roads.  They had been in use not too long ago, but there were no recent tire marks.  The woods were silent.

About a mile in I found it.

It must have taken considerable effort to haul it in there over narrow dirt roads.  Lots of tree branches must have been cut away first to allow this rather tall caboose to make it through.  The cement pad looks older, perhaps there was a hunting shack here earlier.

There is something a little odd about a rail car without rails.  It seems like it is ready to roll down into the lake.

A modern electrical service box, and peeking through the trees an outhouse with the classic half moon window.

I still find the concept of owning a caboose intriguing.  Although I really have nowhere to put one.  There should be plenty available, modern trains run without them.  So I did a little looking about the Internet.  Of course you can find them for sale.  Most seem to be "fixer uppers" with fading paint, and are located in some remote storage depot.  The usual price looks to be $25,000.