When they ask you if you want to hop on and take photos on a freight train, departing at dawn and arriving at the sea, you can’t say no. You can only say thank you, wake up in the middle of the night, head to the train depot, and then photograph everything you can.
No pressure, just fun
So that’s what I did. No bike this time, for a change. As you can imagine, I was quite nervous, especially after spending lots of words about “turning constraints into narrative keys, (ITA)” using Paul Fusco and his marvelous Funeral Train as an example.
Unlike Fusco, though, I had a light heart: no state funerals to document, no impatient clients—just about twenty cars and a thousand tons of freight. Just fun. And I was pumped, really, a freight train wakes up that childlike instinct in many of us. I was also happy to switch things up a bit from cycling, to experiment with new things, even though the combination of cycling and trains has intrigued me for some time.
Trains and I: some history
It’s my very first time taking photos on a freight train, but it’s not the first time I’ve been captivated by the charm of railways, thanks in part to special encounters. My friend David, with whom I shared a brief but intense chapter of life in Pasadena, had worked as a young man on the trains of the Santa Fe Railroad, which also ran through his hometown of Topeka. While I was living in California, we traveled several times by train, heading to New Mexico and to San Francisco. It was an experience with an unmistakable Old Wild West flavor—and at about the same average speed as back then.
Here are some photos of our journeys. At the time, I had just started both photographing and ultracycling, taking advantage of the “bachelor lifestyle” I was living during that period.
los angeles – santa fe train
I’ve already mentioned Train/ing here—a provisional name for an ongoing project that explores the symbiosis between bikes and trains. A couple of years ago, while rummaging through my photo archive, I realized I had numerous pictures taken on trains. Since then, I’ve been setting them aside and occasionally revisiting them, waiting for something coherent to emerge.
In the train yard: maneuvers and preparation
Back to our topic.
I didn’t set any specific goals for myself, other than to have fun and experiment. I was sure of two small things. First, I wanted to take photos on a freight train, not of a freight train. Second, I wanted to keep practicing double exposures (strictly in-camera, not in Photoshop); I was recently captivated by them after seeing photos from a cycling shoot in a train yard in Los Angeles. What a coincidence, huh?
The day begins very early at the rail yard, with some shunting and the usual logistical preparations, all in a biting cold. During this phase, I can wander on the rails as the sky slowly lightens with the dawn.
Then comes the actual departure: checks, paperwork, more checks, communications, even more checks, and finally we head east, toward the sun peeking over the horizon. From that moment on, we stay in the cab—a “square” about two meters wide and slightly less deep. There are two chairs, one for the driver and one for the assistant; if there are three of us, we take turns, though standing forces me to move around and look for different angles.
From there, I focus on capturing more of the inside than the outside, taking advantage of moments when the elements of the landscape and the morning light combine to create intriguing plays of light. For several hours, I am able to explore the movements of the train operators, their work routines, and a few unexpected events that brought the day to life.
On the move: bouncing toward the destination
The most frequent unexpected event is undoubtedly the stop: freight trains are the last in line when it comes to priority, therefore stops are frequent and often for a variety of reasons. Not just to let other trains pass, but also because the tracks at the destination are full, for crew rotations, customs procedures, and so on. It’s a job in motion, yet also a job of waiting. You go, then you stop; you go, then you stop—usually for an uncertain amount of time. Without the right mindset, it can become unbearable. “You know when you depart, but not when you’ll arrive”, my friend warned before inviting me, and of course he is right.
1 / 7
This also reminds me quite a bit the boat routine, where, after going through the more or less standard procedures, you end up sailing in the same direction for half a day, sometimes even more. At that point, you wait, occasionally checking that everything is in order. You look around, chat, and try to find ways to pass the time as best as possible.
Sometimes, we stop for so long that the easiest thing to do is get off. We’re in Italy, so, it’s automatically coffee break time. It is even more enjoyable when it arrives as a surprise, due to circumstances beyond our control. There’s even time for some culinary shopping to explore the local specialties, but there’s no trace of that in the photos, only in our memories.
And then it all ends. We arrive at the destination much later than a normal train, but long before we’re ready to get off. We head back home—on a train, of course, but this time a traditional local train. The colleagues rest after their shift while I start selecting and post-processing the photos.
It’s the first time I’ve taken photos on a freight train, but let’s hope it’s not the last. In the meantime, I’ve come up with some shots and perspectives to try.
Shooting on a freight train: gear
I chose to use my OM1.II – I wrote a first review here – and the EM1.III, with a combination of lenses:
- Zuiko 7-14 2.8,
- Lumix 35-100 2.8,
- Zuiko 17 1.2,
- Zuiko 45 1.2.
I purposely left home the classic 12-40 2.8, which would have been enough fore 90% of the shots, to challenge myself a bit about finding interesting angles. I knew I would use the 7-14 only in the cabin (I am not a fan of ultrawide pictures), and the zoom mainly in the yard; so the most of the 800 pics I shot were with the two PRO prime lenses. I love the 17, and the 45 is the most recent acquisition, so I am working to know it better. Of course it’s not an easy lens, but when you need it, it’s really hard to find a replacement.
Shooting on a freight train: the free preset
After selecting the photos from the day, I dug through the presets in my collection to find a satisfying mood.
The problem is that between the photos taken during shunting and those taken while traveling, there’s, literally, day and night. Adding in the photos taken during stops, there’s a mix of lighting and environments so different from each other that they can’t be effectively conveyed with a single editing approach (even considering the standard adjustments each photo deserves). So, I divided the photos into groups—exterior/interior, night/day, and so on—trying to find at least one preset for each situation. In the end, I found the right balance by modifying an old mountain preset. Even so, I made considerable adjustments to each photo, usually tweaking shadows/highlights and whites/blacks, and sometimes contrast, sharpness, and clarity.
I take inspiration from a dear friend, who says that photos taken in a train yard have a very Blade Runner feel. So, “rain pact” seems like an appropriate name: it’s a preset with an old and dusty vibe, like the kind of dust only rain can wash away, revealing colors and textures hidden by time.
(Come on, okay, stop it. Where’s the preset?!
Here it is.
rain pact
All those moments will be lost in time,
like tears in rain
Blade Runner
As usual, it’s a pretty bold preset. Like other presets I create – such as “winter disagio,” from a ride to Alpe Bianca with Luigi – it’s not for the faint of heart. Instead of making small incremental adjustments, I prefer to give a photo a strong push to see if that direction inspires me; then I pull back, fine-tuning some parameters, sometimes all of them, so the photo doesn’t end up looking too exaggerated.
If you do use the preset, tag me on social media: I’m curious to see how it looks on different photos! In the meantime, here’s a bit of before/after:
