WHAT'S THAT? GO on a train ride with you...? I'm sorry, but it's been a long time since I've even set foot near a train and I don't plan to again any time soon. It's certainly not a matter of your company, for I'm sure that would be splendid; it's just the fact that I don't really care for trains.
Afraid of them? Of course not! I have no phobia of trains in particular, mind you. My problem is with something else entirely, and let me assure you that far from being an irrational little phobia, it has a very legitimate cause. Though there are certainly days when I wish it were simply an irrational reaction...
I can see I've unwittingly sparked your interest. Why your sudden interest in my dislike of trains? What, you'd truly like to hear the whole unpleasant story? I'm not sure it would be such a great idea, if you're considering taking a train ride yourself...though perhaps it'll be harmless enough, seeing as the land in this area is quite flat and level, and there are no canyons or deep rivers about...
Yes, now I can see that I have you intrigued as well as perplexed. What's this talk of canyons and rivers when a mere moment ago my fear was of trains? Well, as I already said, it's not trains I'm particularly afraid of...nor canyons or rivers, but rather, what a combination of the three might happen to reveal...
I'm certain you know of the train rides they offer just across the border from here, over the great canyon? The tracks are so high one can see far down as if one is a bird staring down into vast forests and crags of rock. All this area was carved out by glaciers thousands of years ago, you're aware, but even longer ago than that, countless millennia, it was a vast warm salty sea. I can see you wonder why I make a point of stating this. Well, it does have a bearing on my story, so please bear with me a little.
The glaciers themselves cut out that canyon long before man set foot there in the form he bears now. Once all the rock was barren; today most of it is covered with forest, but if you look carefully when you take that train ride high above, you can still see a trace of the glacier-scored stone here and there. You're aware that the train also travels through in the winter, aren't you? Well, the ride I took was in the spring, the off season. Yes, I was once on a train myself, and I hope it'll be the last time. Back then, I revelled in the peace and solitude of the silver car I sat within, for I was the only one in it; there couldn't have been more than a dozen people on that train at that time, tops. And based on accounts gathered afterwards, I take it that I'm the only one who saw all that really happened.
The melting of the snow in that canyon in the springtime is so sudden sometimes that it can cause flash floods, and it's as if a river forms anew and goes rampaging down through the hollow left by prehistoric rivers long gone dry. This is why they warn people to keep away in the spring. The natives had an explanation for this phenomenon, you know. They used to claim that a Great Lynx, who you can still see in the sky, would cause the spring flooding in an attempt to drown and destroy mankind as he had in the past. Supposedly this Lynx was in fact a type of water monster that lived in the lakes, traveling between them via long tunnels and causing all sorts of storms and havoc; they'd have to appease him by tossing tobacco on the water, though this certainly wasn't a failsafe, and this monster was also known to cause strange dreams. They of course had their culture hero who would promptly step up and defeat the Underwater Lynx every time, but that never stopped him from trying! And I'm sure countless people lost their lives in that accursed ancient canyon, Lynx or no Lynx.
Well, spring floods shouldn't have been much of a concern for me, seeing as I was hundreds of feet above the canyon--in the train! As it was I had a spectacular view of the springtime melt, for the snow that year had been particularly heavy, and even though water was already flowing through the canyon at a vast rate of speed, I could tell it still hadn't reached its maximum. I must have stared out my window throughout the entire trip, I was so fascinated by this awesome side of Nature. If only I had known that Nature was not the only force that would have a hand in what was to come!
One thing the natives were known for in this area was their rock paintings. You can still see remnants of these today, here and there, and the canyon was no exception; in fact, I bet its stone faces once harbored countless paintings left thousands of years ago by people long extinct. Of course, most are now destroyed or inacessible, due to the flooding and the constant encroachment of the forest, but still I stared out my window in the hopes that one or two might be visible from time to time. Luck favors those who are persistent! And straining my eyes for signs of prehistoric humanity upon the rocks impossibly far below broke the growing tedium of staring at trees and more trees.
As it turned out, the springtime flow was heading in the same direction that we were going in. It was rather peaceful to watch at the moment, as it hadn't yet turned from a slow-moving stream into the raging river it could have been. I even wondered if I should have come somewhat later in the year; I can tell you now that I'm glad I didn't! I can only guess what sort of awful things I might have seen later...
As the train chugged incessantly along, my mind began to wander, and I began ever so slightly to lose interest in my surroundings. I believe I even started to doze a little, and I found my mind wandering over the stories I'd recently read about that Great Lynx that supposedly caused the hideous flooding so long ago. Stories were still told of this being, in fact, and a few of the older Indians still claimed to believe in him. Unfortunately, their stories went, the old culture hero who would once defeat him had long been asleep, and so now the Great Lynx was free to roam the waters and bring his strange dreams...
It was just such a dream, of a vast shape slithering about deep under the water, that woke me up abruptly from my doze and made me blink a few times in confusion. That's right!--I was on the train. Relieved that the start of a nightmare had awakened me in time to avoid missing the rest of the trip, I leaned over to look out the window again and see if the terrain had changed any. And as luck--or misfortune--would have it, it had.
Lo!--the train was just starting to slowly work its way around a gradual curve in the tracks and far below, to the left, I could see a vast rock wall coming within sight. And what was more, there appeared to be markings upon it! Growing excited, I pressed my face to the glass and mentally urged the train to move faster, as it seemed to be interminably slow to me just then! In retrospect, I rather wish it would have just started going backwards right then! But of course it didn't. And as it dragged its tedious way along the curve of the track, the great rock wall was spread out before me, and my eyes grew on seeing what was thus revealed.
It was indeed a rock painting such as those the prehistoric natives might have made...but my guesses that it would be a representation of that evil Underwater Lynx whom travelers by canoe were urged to avoid appeared to be incorrect. For this painting didn't seem to match any native rock art I'd previously been exposed to in books. Whereas the Great Lynx is always depicted as a half-cat, half-snake serpentine form with spines and horns, this shape...defied all description. The closest comparison I could think of was an octopus--and what a ludicrous comparison that would be, seeing as octopi never lived in this region, except perhaps in those long-gone days of the great salty sea, before men ever set foot here! I puzzled over this painting as the train slowly passed, but the more I studied it, the less sense it made; as it gradually faded from view behind a crag in the rock wall and yet more trees, I sat back in my seat, perplexed and somewhat unsettled. I was willing to write it off as some sort of anomaly--perhaps an exaggeration of a deformed creature once washed up on prehistoric shores--and decided to try and enjoy the rest of my trip. At least I had spotted one of the elusive rock paintings, which so few other people traveling in this region got to see!
My thoughts, however, grew stranger the further on the train went, and I even began entertaining the ludicrous possibility that the painting was some sort of cultural memory of a beast that once existed, but had ceased to exist long before man arrived on this planet...there are some who say that even through the rigors of evolution, we retain some sort of unconscious ancestral memory of things not within our experience, and these memories reappear to us now and then in dreams and visions and even in our artwork and literature. I'd never been one to subscribe to such an odd theory, but after seeing that detestable painting, it made more sense than other, darker thoughts that were trying to work their way to the surface...
I kept staring out the window, and tried to doze now and then, yet every time I shut my eyes, visions of that strange beast beneath the water kept flickering back to me, until I had to keep my eyes open just to avoid seeing it. Doubtlessly that image upon the rocks had additionally influenced my dreams, which were already primed to display such grotesque images, due to all my previous study of Indian legends of this area. I began to regret having read such lurid tales before setting out on this voyage, and told myself that I would need a nice long proper nap, in my own bed, once this was all over.
At one point, as the train passed another bend, I thought I espied glimpses of yet another painting far down on the rocks, but the terrain was such that it was impossible to tell the extent of it. It appeared to be yet another of the same sort as the first, with its strange roundish head and bizarre reaching tentacles...what was even odder and more bewildering was the fact that the very painting style used to depict this creature seemed to have changed somewhat. In fact, this painting looked more like an octopoid version of those fish and bird fossils one sees sometimes encased in stone and upon display in museums. It was almost like it wasn't even a painting at all! Unfortunately--or perhaps fortunately?--all I could see of it was part of the head and one or two of the tentacles as we passed, though for quite a while after, the strange posture of the painting--as if it had been captured in the act of writhing, and somehow frozen that way--filled me with a strange sense of unease, and all my thoughts of dozing were banished.
I strained my eyes for signs of further paintings throughout the rest of the trip, yet saw none...not even the expected Great Lynx, or something even more mundane than that...
After a time, I noticed that the waters below had grown somewhat higher and faster. As I looked I could see hunks of snow toppling from land and splashing into the water, and pieces of ice breaking loose and flowing along as well, and knew that the spring thaw was increasing, especially now that the sun was so high in the sky. I moved to the other side of the car and it was much the same over here; in fact, the flow of the stream--now a river--had increased so quickly that I began to see random objects which had been swept into the water or had fallen in earlier in the winter, now spiraling along ahead of us and out of sight. These were mostly trees and branches, though I assumed that other, smaller objects must be down there as well, just not visible from such a height as this. I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't had any chance to get caught down there sometime, and that the train was so high up, because it was pretty clear that neither I nor the silver cars would be able to withstand such an onslaught of aquatic power.
My half-smile of fascination at this turn of events began to fade the longer I stared out the car windows. I kept seeing the typical trunks and branches of toppled trees going by ahead of us as the river picked up more momentum than the train...but then I began to see fresh trees, and hunks of rock as well. Surprised, I moved back to my own side of the car and sure enough, every now and then a great chunk of stone from the half-visible rock faces would go tumbling down into the river and washing away. Naturally, seeing as trees were occasionally rooted within these very rocks, whenever part of the stone broke loose it would carry the hapless trees with it, and stone and wood and all would quickly be swept away. I couldn't even believe that the water was so strong that it could transport boulders so easily, yet it did, as I saw them bobbing about just like corks as they vanished from sight. Such awesome might had the river! I worried now and then that these unwitting water passengers might slam into the bridge the train chugged along, but I never felt any vibrations of any sort, so hoped that it was built sturdily enough to withstand such damage. I tried to quiet my anxieties with the assurances that it must have been built thus, seeing as the people of this region knew better than anyone just how destructive these spring thaws could be!
I thus resigned myself to sitting back down again and watching the ceaseless flow of the water as it continued to pick up yet more speed, whirling on ahead of us. My awe was in no way lessened, no matter how many trees or hunks of rock I saw go flying by; in fact it only grew as the size of the trees and the rocks grew as well. I did lament a little at this wanton destruction of the walls of the canyon, and hoped that the paintings I'd seen so far, as well as any that might be now concealed from sight, were up high enough that they would escape the damage the water caused. If only that had been so! Then perhaps I would not today have my great distaste of ever again riding on trains.
Against my wishes, however, I felt myself once more growing slightly drowsy, and so decided that I would shut my eyes just briefly and rest a bit before the final leg of the voyage. I did not intend to actually drowse or even sleep, yet I must have dozed off at least a little, for soon enough, I once more saw the vague, murky images of that great thing moving around beneath the water, and now there was even something that was damnably familiar about it--even though I knew there was no way I could have ever seen such a thing before! What's more, this time the dream seemed to develop a bit more of a plot; I saw the large marine shape swimming out in vast open waters, then I saw the waters around it start to grow smaller and smaller. The creature was of such a size that it seemed to struggle just to keep alive. I then saw something great and dark go moving across the water--indeed, through the water as well, as it plowed and gouged up the bottom, and pushed the other great shape on ahead of it. I watched this vast darkness as it retreated, then pushed forward again, and retreated once more, and now what had been a vast body of water was no more--all I saw was blackness, as far as the eye could see! And for some reason I had a distinct feeling of being trapped on all sides, and finding it difficult to breathe...this is when I felt even drowsier, and my sleep must have grown even deeper...
I then saw bits of light begin to emerge off to my side, and then felt water flowing past me...I realized now that I must have assumed the place of whatever large thing I had first seen swimming through the waters in the early part of my dream, as I now appeared to be seeing and feeling all that it saw and felt. What a bizarre sensation it was! To be certain, I'd assumed plenty of strange roles in dreams, but none yet exactly like this! All I could do was stay and watch as the light around me grew brighter, and the feeling of water flowing against me rose and fell over and over again, and the light flickered such, bright and dark, bright and dark, that I had a distinct feeling as of a great passage of time taking place. When I looked around myself more closely, I could even make out slabs of rock being carved through by the water, and the forms of grasses, then shrubs, then trees emerging all around me. I even though [sic] I spied tiny human forms now and then, though these never stayed very long, though the vast walls of rock always seemed to abide. They stayed even longer than the water itself, which sometimes vanished completely, only to return in great surging strength, then dwindle down into nothing yet again. With a start I realized that I was witnessing the ancient creation and evolution of this very canyon!
Once I realized this, I was quite awed and impressed indeed. Never before had I had a dream so clearly connected to events in real life, and I found it fascinating to see my mind's own interpretation of how this canyon had come to be. If only that was all this dream had been, was a creation of my own mind. For events soon enough took a strange turn that quickly convinced me that this was not a product of my own thoughts after all.
It started out with yet another distinct increase in the flow and speed of the river surging below. I watched silently, face nearly pressed to the glass, as that water frothed and swirled and spun down through the canyon at an almost impossible speed, and by now even the rocks and trees were so overwhelmed that their numerous shapes disappeared from my sight. Only now and then could I see a random object bob briefly to the surface before it was gone again. I fancied I even felt the legs of the bridge vibrating, though that could have simply been the train chugging along its rails for all I knew. Surely the river had surged even greater than this at times.
Just as I thought this, however, there was a great jolt, and with a startled cry I pitched out into the aisle, landing on my side. I winced at a pain in my hand as I pushed myself back up into my seat and began looking around wildly to try to determine what had caused such a dreadful motion. Surely the bridge wasn't giving way--? I squinted and examined what little I could see of it as best as I could, yet saw nothing amiss, and still the train moved on as slowly as before. No announcements came, so I could only assume that it had been a natural occurrence and I shouldn't get myself overly upset over it. Coming to the conclusion that a tree must have struck part of the bridge far below, I settled myself back down with a sigh of relief and tried to calm my nerves. So much for this train ride being the relaxing event I had thought it would be! What with the odd dreams, the strange rock paintings, and now this, it was turning out to be rather frazzling indeed.
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