|Burlington Northern & Santa Fe; Prewitt, New Mexico; September 30, 1999|
Finally there was a break in the action and we decided to move. I was in my own car and pulled away first, looking for a new angle. Their driver was slower, and soon some cars separated us. Finally, I saw a shot I wanted and pulled off the interstate -- but they missed me turning! In this time before cell phones I had no way to get ahold of them, and a futile attempt to get back on the interstate to catch them didn't work (okay, maybe I didn't try all that hard). But suddenly I was alone and free to make my own decisions. I set up at the Tomahawk Bar in Prewitt for a shot (something none of the rest would have even considered) and captured several more away-from-the-tracks angles along Route 66. I didn't catch up with the gang again until we hit our reserved motel later that evening.
They caught about 30 trains during the day from about three locations. I caught far fewer, but quantity isn't the name of the game. On this day, I was in a non-wedge zone.
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