Tales of the Rails - Trip to Menangle
NR70 Leads a superfreighter
Gunzel's day out 24/6/12
I logged on to Facebook Friday night, when my mate, who we will call TBP, messages me. "Let's go to Menangle tomorrow".
Shit! Tommorow? What about Sunday?
Without any stuffing around, I went flat out like a lizard drinkin' packing lunch, snacks, iPod, emergency phone, camera, batteries, a couple of litres of water, and when that was done, the pack was a bloody weighty offering.
"Righto, TBP, what else do I need to bring? How about bikes?"
"Yeah, righto Rozza, bring ya bike and we'll meet at Wolli Creek. How does 7am sound?"
Bloody hell! First day of the school holidays and we're voluntarily making the effort to get up earlier than a school day.
The morning offered a wonderfully warm temperature of 13°C when I left home. Getting to the station was a cruisy, downhill affair, and on a bike, that transformed a 10 minute walk into a 2 minute free-wheel.
Trying to talk to the ticket-seller at Ashfield was somewhat of an ordeal. The fella must've had shit in his ears, as he obviously didn't understand where "Menangle" was, until I wrote it down. Clearly not many patrons travel to Menangle from Ashfield...
Praying to the bloke upstairs (in the sky for the less-informed), I got my wish at the station....a Waratah....
Ok, I'll cut the bull and get to the interesting bits.
Meeting TBP at Wolli Creek, We went down to the Airport line platforms, half bouncing half-carrying our bikes down the stairs.
Ok, I'll cut out some more rubbish...
I logged on to Facebook Friday night, when my mate, who we will call TBP, messages me. "Let's go to Menangle tomorrow".
Shit! Tommorow? What about Sunday?
Without any stuffing around, I went flat out like a lizard drinkin' packing lunch, snacks, iPod, emergency phone, camera, batteries, a couple of litres of water, and when that was done, the pack was a bloody weighty offering.
"Righto, TBP, what else do I need to bring? How about bikes?"
"Yeah, righto Rozza, bring ya bike and we'll meet at Wolli Creek. How does 7am sound?"
Bloody hell! First day of the school holidays and we're voluntarily making the effort to get up earlier than a school day.
The morning offered a wonderfully warm temperature of 13°C when I left home. Getting to the station was a cruisy, downhill affair, and on a bike, that transformed a 10 minute walk into a 2 minute free-wheel.
Trying to talk to the ticket-seller at Ashfield was somewhat of an ordeal. The fella must've had shit in his ears, as he obviously didn't understand where "Menangle" was, until I wrote it down. Clearly not many patrons travel to Menangle from Ashfield...
Praying to the bloke upstairs (in the sky for the less-informed), I got my wish at the station....a Waratah....
Ok, I'll cut the bull and get to the interesting bits.
Meeting TBP at Wolli Creek, We went down to the Airport line platforms, half bouncing half-carrying our bikes down the stairs.
Ok, I'll cut out some more rubbish...
Endeavour at Menangle
We saw 3642 going hell-for-leather through Macquarie Fields whilst on the (electric) train, the momentary air impact of which was enough to loosen dental fillings and empty pockets of coins, and upon arrival to Campbelltown, we felt like we had spent an hour in a cement mixer, courtesy of the many sets of points and fish-plate (old school) rail joints along the way.
We got to Campbelltown, and wheeled our bikes over toward our intended train.
"Are you getting on this train?" Says the guard.
I had the very strong urge to say "nah mate we're just wheelin' our bikes towards it for the fun of it....", but my politer side resisted.
We stowed our bikes in the appropriate location and sat down in the saloon.
After about a quarter of an hour, the train got going bang-on-time.
Bloody hell! Talk about shake rattle and roll! The slightest indent in the track seemed to amplify to a bloody great 'bang' in the carriage. Thank Christmas all-bloody mighty that we only had to go a score mile down the track.
Alighting at Menangle, we both agreed that that short leg of the journey suddenly made the electric train seem much smoother, and with an involuntary salute of the bell, we pedaled our way 200 metres up the hill to the bridge.
We'd been there about ten minutes when a nice fella in a VM Commodore wound down his window and yelled out
"AY BOYS!! HAVE YA SEEN ANY TRAINS YET?"
We courteously replied that we had not seen any trains, and the chap proceeded to reverse down the hill down to the station.
We saw a few trains, then when it got a bit quiet, we were off like a brides nightie, to find some place in which to conduct sit-down ablutions....in other words, to relieve oneself of the solid variety.
Ablutions conducted, we procured some beverages, and bloody oath, an OAK killed hungrythirsty. Dead.
We got to Campbelltown, and wheeled our bikes over toward our intended train.
"Are you getting on this train?" Says the guard.
I had the very strong urge to say "nah mate we're just wheelin' our bikes towards it for the fun of it....", but my politer side resisted.
We stowed our bikes in the appropriate location and sat down in the saloon.
After about a quarter of an hour, the train got going bang-on-time.
Bloody hell! Talk about shake rattle and roll! The slightest indent in the track seemed to amplify to a bloody great 'bang' in the carriage. Thank Christmas all-bloody mighty that we only had to go a score mile down the track.
Alighting at Menangle, we both agreed that that short leg of the journey suddenly made the electric train seem much smoother, and with an involuntary salute of the bell, we pedaled our way 200 metres up the hill to the bridge.
We'd been there about ten minutes when a nice fella in a VM Commodore wound down his window and yelled out
"AY BOYS!! HAVE YA SEEN ANY TRAINS YET?"
We courteously replied that we had not seen any trains, and the chap proceeded to reverse down the hill down to the station.
We saw a few trains, then when it got a bit quiet, we were off like a brides nightie, to find some place in which to conduct sit-down ablutions....in other words, to relieve oneself of the solid variety.
Ablutions conducted, we procured some beverages, and bloody oath, an OAK killed hungrythirsty. Dead.