As Josie and I were returning from the playdate on Friday, we were approaching the familiar bridge and I heard a train whistle! This was exciting because parts of the tracks were washed away back in September and this was the first train I'd seen since then. It was quite long and all the same sort of flatbed cars--probably, I guess, carrying materials for track rebuilding.
In my memory, it's never been a very busy section of track. A few trains a day and only freight trains. But I was told by Louise Freeman, who grew up on our farm, that when she was a girl, a passenger train ran back and forth between Hot Springs and Marshall.
And before the trains, of course, the same roadbed was the Drover's Road--the route between Greenville, South Carolina and Greenville, Tennessee. Wagons and stagecoaches traveled this rough thoroughfare, which in the fall was given over to herds of pigs, cattle, mules, and even turkeys.
And before that, the road was a trail, traveled by the Cherokee. So much history there along the river. I'm glad it's continuing.
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