Can't you Hear the Whistle Blowing?

I love trains.  I really love trains.  Just imagining the power of those engines, feeling the rumbling vibrations through your body as they roar past, tugging car after 50 ton car in an endless tail behind them.

I love hearing the warning horn of the diesels approaching a grade crossing, the two longs, one short, and one long.  Even when I'm not nearby, the horn in the distance evokes the same feelings inside.

That is, until Sunday.

On Sunday, I rode Amtrak's Capitol Corridor passenger train from Sacramento to Fremont, California, about a three hour ride.  I was in the second car from the engine, in a four car consist.

(Not my picture - it was dark when I got to the train.)

I don't know if it was possible to get far enough away from the engine, but car two was not it, because every single grade crossing for three hours I heard that damned horn.  AAAARRRGH!!!

I hope eventually my love for the feelings I get hearing train whistles and horns will return, but for now, give me some earplugs, please!