We were in a hurry to pack up from one train excursion to the next, going from Chama to Durango.  A quick shower was all I allowed myself, because John knew there was a Lutheran church in Durango with a service at 9:30.  In said shower, I thought I was clean, but when I turned my head in that small space I smelled something.  Train smoke!  Thick, black train smoke was trapped in my hair.  Too late!  If people turn their heads as I walk in church, we’ll blame Chama.  Durango will have its own aroma, depending on what kind of coal the steam engine burns.