Needless to say, all that extra weight puts severe stresses on a bike frame, and the dynamics of railbike operation change slightly. Several sharp curves and derailments later, we arrived at the big washout. By now, the flush of invention had worn off. I had sobered up enough to be prudent. We off-loaded everything except the inflatable boat, and hand carried all of it around the wash in the moonlight. I then rode the two bikes across. We loaded back up to face the last bad curves. About 20 minutes, and a half mile later, we arrived at horseshoe lake, the midpoint of our journey.

Horseshoe lake, though remote, is accessible by a dirt road. During the summer months a succession of tent and trailer campers cluster along the shore near the foundation of the old railroad station. We crept past, not wishing to disturb any of the residents tucked cozily within their tiny circles of yellow light. By now I had begun to realize how the ghostly appearance of our fandangled contraption, looking halfway between a peddlers wagon and a small blimp, might affect someone should we descend upon them out of the dark.

Leaving Horseshoe lake, we both gave a sigh of relief. The worst had passed. The track from here stretched nearly straight, and sure. The air felt warm. The moon glowed bright overhead. And, our adventure began to feel more like what we had imagined.

Without further mishap, we arrived at the bog river. Moonlight rippled off the water. I set up the tent while Sudjai prepared our pre-cooked supper. It had grown late, and we didn't build a fire. The evening held enough magic just as it was under the blazing moon.

At last we finished our iced drinks, and crawled into our tent. Inside seemed almost brighter than outside. The entire fabric glowed. We lay there soaking up the cooling air, listening to sounds of the nocturnal forest. The frogs were busy doing whatever frogs do, all the while making a great noise about it. Now and again, the slap of a beaver tail cracked the night. Then came the sound of a tree crashing down in the woods across the river. I drifted off as Sudjai murmured something about hoping our food cache hanging off the bridge would be safe from bears.

Next morning we dozed as the sun rose higher. When the air inside became uncomfortably warm, we finally rolled out and had some breakfast. Sudjai asked me if I had seen the mountain lions. Apparently they had bothered her something fierce during the night, but I hadn't shared the same dream.

Sudjai went swimming. Then we took a cruise in our tiny little one-person inflatable, scrunched together in an intertwined position bordering on the indecent. Our idyll was interrupted by canoes coming upriver. They looked strangely at our craft, at length realizing that was not the means by which we had arrived at this location.

Naturally, they had to investigate our real transport. Railbikes never fail to amaze and delight nearly everyone. By this time more canoes arrived. There followed explanations, demonstrations, and trial rides.

When the last of our company departed, we grabbed a quick lunch, and began packing up. We decided we had better lighten the load on that bike rack for the return trip. Much of the food had already disappeared, along with most of the ice. We tied as many of the lighter items, such as sleeping bags and tent, to the outrigger of Sudjai's bike. As we started out I immediately saw an improvement in performance. It is surprising how much difference twenty pounds can make.

The trip back gave us little trouble. This time we passed Horseshoe lake in full daylight, making the obligatory stop to give gawkers and talkers their fill. Next came the curves, washout, then more bad curves, but by now, better prepared, we handled it all with grace. Homecoming seemed dull to the point of disappointment. We arrived triumphant to no welcoming crowds, no ticker tape parade.

It didn't matter. You could not have pried the grins off our faces with a crowbar. We had met the challenge, and it was us!

My favorite railroad is, of course, the one going past my home. I have traveled this route many times. Each trip is a fresh adventure. In spring everything is coming alive. Summer brings rampant growth here in the east that can almost bury an abandoned track. Wildlife appears as curious about the strange sight coming down the track as most people. I had a deer amble out of my way, then, a hundred yards down the track, I looked back. That deer had returned to watch me as I rode away. In fall, the colors, and their reflection in the many lakes and ponds, is overpowering.

Railbikes are self-steering. You are free to look around and enjoy. Those iron rails winding off into the distant unknown can provide hours of delightful excursion. They often lead through wilds unexplored by most. You set your own pace so you have plenty of time to soak up the scenery.

There is something about riding a railbike that is quite unlike merely riding a bicycle. I have been building and riding railbikes for a long time, and love it. My wife and my father love it. All my friends love it. What makes RAILBIKING so much fun?

I am only making a guess, but maybe this is it. Active travel requires a level of steady concentration. The intensity will vary, low for taking a stroll, high when white knuckle driving on an icy freeway during the rush hour. For novice railbikers there is usually a short break-in period, though I really shouldn't use the word 'break'. After that, railbiking calls for a VERY low IQ. (IQ means intensity quotient, naturally.)

Then again, maybe the fun just comes from doing something wild, not done by many others.

All of this is not to say railbiking is without mishap. In fact, that may be part of the allure. Railbikes are mechanical contraptions. Parts come loose, fall off, or break, as is their nature. You should keep your bike in good shape, and check it out before taking off. It is a good idea to carry along a few tools and materials for emergency repairs.

Railbikes can 'derail'. This is railbike talk for "the blankity-blank bike came off the track." My wife's sister became so entranced looking at autumn leaves she leaned away from the outrigger. In slow motion, she fell into the bushes and scratched herself on a spruce stubble. She had a silly grin when we helped her up. No trip to the emergency room, but she did feel a bit foolish. Stay aware of what you are doing, particularly on bad track and sharp curves.

Many situations can cause derailments. Small trees and bushes growing close to the rail can snag your foot, jerking the bike off the track. Sometimes a sudden stop will make the rear wheel skid right off the rail. When you derail like this, your bike usually bounces along on the ties. You quickly come to an ungraceful stop. In any case, it's all part of the adventure.

Misadventures aside, (or perhaps, included) railbiking is an outstanding natural high. It is even better when you have a reliable railbike. That first railbike I built was pretty crude, and worked about as well. Later designs became better and better. The evolution of my railbike came out of my own head and experience. This was partly due to living in the sticks. And, until recently, I never came across any info on the subject. I heard vague rumors, and saw a few magazine articles about turn-of-the-century railbikes. I found no details, or references to current designs. Since publishing my design, I have discovered a world of other railbikers.

You probably don't want to reinvent the wheel. The quickest way to a happy experience is to pick a railbike design with a history of success, and go with it.

Naturally, I lean toward my own very successful design which you will find advertised within these pages. No welding is necessary. My front wheel guide makes use of side rollers. This gives you precision steering, minimal friction, and almost no noise. I use a simple handlebar lever to raise the guide slightly for crossings, or full up for normal bicycle riding. My adjustable height outrigger is an extremely rigid geometric design that is simple and lightweight. The outrigger has excellent ground clearance to avoid brush. Pull 3 pins, and the outrigger comes completely off and folds.

Look over the field. Pick a design from someone who has been doing this a few years. It should also be a design that is within your capacity to build.

Whether you're a newcomer or a pro, keep your guide on the rail and a grin on your face. Perhaps one of these days we'll run into each other on some deserted stretch of railroad track.