Lost Rail

I remember well the first time I laid eyes on Harlowton.  The old horse and I (although at that time, we were both about a decade younger) rolled into town on US12 and stopped at a convenience store that overlooked the flour mill shown in the picture below.  The Montana day had heated well through the morning hours but I had learned years before that the best way to spend time outside was to avoid a/c completely.  If you never get used to being comfortable, then you never realize how uncomfortable you are.  So the old Suburban and I had opted for down windows and no compressor even as the day heated.  We shared the pain of the rising mercury together. I reckon we were both a little different looking back then.  I seem to remember the silver paint on the old girl was just a little more glossy and had a little less wind and sun burn.  The engine had a few less miles on it too, and by that same token, so did I.  My hair was a bit thicker, there weren't funny lines around my eyes