June is here. I travel back up north to Clarkdale once again, this time to jump on board the Verde Canyon Railroad and their historic train that still runs the rails daily.

The train depot is just what I would imagine an old timey train station would feel like, walking past the different train cars in the afternoon sun until I come to the caboose, then walk back again until I find my train car.

I think I chose a first class ticket, which came with a nice snack tray, but I found myself right across from another seat with a strange old gent staring right back at me.

He probably had the same thought about me.

We try to make conversation, but I sense that won’t last, so I politely excuse myself and head out to one of the open air sections, order a drink, and watch the sunset over the mountains as we chug along.

You get to see beauty rarely seen, as this train only runs for tourists, not for commerce or trade. We end out in Perkinsville, a town of only a few settlers all from the same bloodline. As the train gets ready to return along the same route the stars start to appear.

The glory of the sunset ride is the return trip. The heat of the day has evaporated, and clear skies showcase the Milky Way in celestial brilliance.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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