I got stopped by a train on my drive to work this morning. I cross the tracks twice, once in the country and again as I pass through a small, unincorporated, town. The train was at the latter of the two. The crossing is at the bottom of the hill and I sat and watched and listened as the train clickety-clacked past. I turned off the CD player so I could really hear it. If it wasn't so cold (5 F this morning) I would have rolled down the window, that is what I usually do. As I looked to the left I got a great view of the train passing in front of the old grain elevator, it was wonderful. After the train had passed and we started going again I must not have gotten up to speed soon enough as the fellow behind me went roaring past. He was still only just in front as we got to the next town and had to slow doan again, probably gained about 5 seconds for his trouble. Still, I was happier for it because it meant he wasn't riding my ass the whole way.