Best Worst Day Ever
Part 1

Author's note: This is the inspiration for my continuing story of the railways of Equestria and the ponies who keep it running so smoothly – most of the time.

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Most ponies never give the railways a lot of thought. They see the trains streaking across the fields or along mountain cuts. They wait patiently or sometimes not so patiently at the depot or a crossing for a train. Their groceries and goods arrive on shop shelves as if by unicorn magic. They expect that if they have bought a ticket, they will reach their destination on time without a care.

We in the Railway Service pride ourselves on running the railways with precision and professionalism. And most of the time that is exactly what happens. Small problems are dealt with swiftly and by the book. Larger problems are dealt with as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, again by the book. And then there are the days when it seems the book has flown out the window and you have to rely on experience, ingenuity and most of all patience. This just happened to be one of those days.

It was a nice morning. Luna’s moon had already receded as Celestia’s sun was just rising over the horizon. I arrived at the engine house to the aromas of hot steam, hot oils, hot metal, and hot coffee. Nothing beats the smell of the locomotive shop, nothing at all.

I talked with Hoss, our hostler about the weather and how my lovely little lady ol’ 99 was doing this morning. I know Hoss had had a real name at some point, but over the years his nickname had just become all he was known by. He was a large grey stallion with ochre mane and a funnel for his mark; easily a hoof taller than almost every other pony but a good natured sort. He said 99 was well up to pressure, full of water and that he had fixed the bearing on the piston rod I had noticed the day before. I did my usual oiling and inspection and then signed the sheet and took possession of my lovely 99. By this time Tie Rod, my firecolt, had arrived at the shop and we moved 99 out into the yard.

Leaving 99 with Tie, I trotted over to the yard office to get our orders for the day. Amber light, our conductor, was already there talking with the assignment desk. The frown on her pretty yellow muzzle gave me pause. “You’re not going to like this Coal” she shook her head. “We pulled the long run to Salt Lick.” I winced slightly. The long run wasn’t that bad, but it was an over night passenger through some fairly desolate country. And worse, the Buffalo had started to become more aggressive as the new settlements were spreading through their old stampeding grounds. “Oh, it get’s better” she snorted. “We have a special pick up at Ponyville.” The evil glint in her eye said it all.

“Apples?” I replied cautiously.

“Oh yea!” she exclaimed. “Seems they have hired a special car and added a whole hour to our schedule just to load it. That and they hired out an entire pullmane for their hired hooves."

I let out a long whistle. The Apples were fairly nice folks; huge clan and very proud of their produce. In fact, one of my best friends is an Apple. However, the little filly who had taken the reigns of the family’s farm in Ponyville was a special piece of work. Her brother Mac was a good natured fellow, but his sister; she was as obsessive and protective of their farm, product and prices as any big-wig business broker in New Yoke City. A truly ruthless business mare, and stubborn as the day was long.

The yard crew had pulled our train of six Pullmanes and the private sleeping car and set out at the station platform. Amber and the rest of the train crew went to work in the train helping passengers and loading baggage while Tie and I did our usual busy work to be sure we and 99 were ready for the long hours ahead.

The run started out fine and everything was running like clockwork, that is until we were coming down grade into Ingram about 60 miles from Bittsburg. I noticed a slight pop from the exhaust and then the sound shifted ever so slightly. Tie looked over at me "You heard it too Coal?" he asked. I grimaced, "Unfortunately!" was my only reply. Needless to say we were watching the gauges and listening closer than normal as we ran along at speed. At Ingram station I did my usual oiling and walk around and didn’t really notice anything outwardly wrong. Still, that pop just didn’t sound right. As we pulled out of the station the exhaust was still sounding off. As we headed up the last grade before Bittsburg the sound shifted again and the engine became sluggish to respond and slowed more than normal for the grade. Alarm bells went off in my head as now I was sure something had gotten fouled somewhere in the works.

I eased the train into Bittsburg station only 35 seconds late. Once stopped, I waved Amber over to the loc. from the platform and explained the situation to her. Bittsburg was a regular two hour stop and normally the engine would be pulled off and watered anyway, but I mentioned I would talk with the shop and see if we could track down and fix the problem before departure time.

Tie and I pulled the locomotive from the train and headed into the trackage for the engine shops. Luckily Flux was on duty this morning. Her brother Solder was the shop foreman but Flux was the chief boiler fitter and the design engineer for many of the best innovations on the ever expanding railway.

She had me back ol' 99 into one of the stalls and swore an oath to Nightmare Moon as soon as she heard the cuff of the exhaust. “Well, this ain’t good.” She exclaimed coming up the ramp from the inspection pit several minutes later. “Piston’s’ cracked and our welder is on the fritz. If Rod were here he could weld it with magic, but his wife is about to foal and they are in Manehatten with her family waiting for the blessed event.” “Shoot Coal, 99’s model is being phased out and all our spares were shipped to New Yoke. Heck, I don’t even have a spare Loc. I can lend you for your run. Three of our stable are out of commission until we can replace the lot of bad gems we had installed a month ago. And the rest are assigned and would take a few hours to even clear to get back here. I’m stumped—better call the Honcho.”

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That honcho just happened to be my own Uncle Wheeler – Superintendent of the division. Luckily the division office was part of the yard complex and soon Uncle Wheeler was trotting over to the shop. “Blast it all to the moon!” he swore when Flux explained the situation. “I told them at central that I needed three spares moved over here to replace the ones shopped for bad gems, but those cold fires couldn’t be bothered to get off their flanks and push paper if diamond dogs were at their throats!” He glanced at the large shop clock hanging on the wall. “Coal your train is due out in thirty-five minutes. You’re on a special order aren’t you?” "Yes sir," I acknowledged. “Special car for Ponyville and an extra hour built into the schedule for the pick up.”

“Just great!” The vein along his neck began to bulge.

As he was looking out over the yard a small smile crossed his muzzle. “It might just work” he nearly whispered. The next thing I saw was Uncle Wheeler bolting through the yard towards the track gang that had just left their shack to begin the days maintenance work.

After a short talk with the gang, he was rushing back to the shop and the crew had run frantically back into the shack.

Uncle Wheeler wasn’t a young colt any more and when he arrived at the shop he was nearly out of breath. Sweat pouring down his mane into his eyes. “Jasper” he wheezed. “His crew are getting their harnesses” he panted, “They’ll pull the train.”

Realization finally dawned on me. Jasper and his maintenance crew were the division’s star attraction at the annual Old Railroad Days Fair. At the beginning of the railways, before locomotives, trains had been pulled by teams of strong, mostly earth, ponies. To keep the tradition alive, Jasper and his team practiced in harness as a team and could pull a decent train at speed for the exhibitions.

Soon the team were ready and four ponies were pulling ol’ 99 out of the stall and backing it onto our train. Flux had removed the connecting rods for the pistons and valves so the wheels would move freely and not cause any more damage to the pistons or the cylinders. She kept the offending piston and promised to send word to the shop in Salt Lick City to have a new one ready for replacement when we arrived.

I spoke with Jasper and worked out our signaling and breaking requirements. Tie and I had to remain in the cab and keep up minimal steam to operate the train breaks and provide the necessary signaling with whistle or bell. Steam from the engine was also needed to feed the coaches with heat to keep the passengers comfortable during the run.

A crowd had gathered at the depot at the sight of an actual pony team being put on the head of a real train. And as we received the clear signal I tooted the whistle while Tie rang the bell as Jasper and his team bore their hooves into the ballast between the tracks.

Being pony pulled was very different than running the train with just the locomotive. I had to be very careful the train didn’t edge up on the team as we were descending even mild grades and had to be even more cautious in using the breaks lest I stop too quickly and jerk the team back in their harnesses. If things got out of hand, either Jasper or I could pull the quick release and the team would be free to get out of the way if the train got out of control.

Before long we had fallen into a good working rhythm. Jasper had a regular set of signals using his ears like semaphores so he could communicate to his team and myself from the lead position at the head of the team. I communicated using our whistle in standard code.

My Uncle Wheeler had been a team leader just as steam locomotives were being used on the railways, and this experience was giving me a new found respect for the old stallion’s accomplishments in his youth. Racing along the line under pony power reminded me of the first time I ever saw a locomotive, and Uncle Wheeler was at her controls. It was that event that eventually gave me my mark and started my own journey into the life of a railpony. But that is a story for another time.