Amid hillsides clothed in vibrant springtime grasses, the final rays of sunlight for this day shine down through the cliffs, illuminating the green hills lining the Snake River. After a breezy afternoon, the winds have calmed sufficiently to turn the Snake into a glossy mirror, and not a moment too soon; in the distance, the long-awaited train comes into view, gradually arcing around the long graceful curve of the river and at last passing beneath my precarious perch on the rocks. The engineer extends his hand in greeting as the matching yellow-and-black EMD's glide past with a colorful train following obediently behind. Yet just as fast as it came, the last car passes, and the train disappears around the corner downriver. Soon the sun will set on the Snake River, and Great Northwest's Ayer Turn will have a long, dark, moonless night run ahead of them.
