Some say I have been far too critical of railroads.  How can you love a stone-cold strip of iron or steel, ever the same except for its deterioration?  A river has a natural energy, comes into existence moving, always aging, growing, and wondrously strong and strange.  It’s something alive which could take you in a moment to its deadly bottom.

Tall stack packets have a grace and beauty in a living river setting.  Steam locomotives looked like otherworldly monsters racing across the land on their ribbon of iron rails.

Still too strong?!?

Tags: georgetown, steamboat

This entry was posted on Friday, September 18th, 2009 at 1:07 pm and is filed under River history. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.