The CPKC Holiday Train 2025 crossing at the Cohoes-Waterford Bridge

I’m cold. I’m shivering. And here I am, on Route 32, between Cohoes and Waterford, with morning traffic all around me.

My Nikon Df camera is on the tripod, and I’m furiously adjusting my Vivitar 19mm f/3.8 ultrawide for a crossing … and hoping that I get this chance.

One chance.

One chance to get this photo that I’ve dreamed about for AGES.

Let me explain.

For the past several years, I’ve followed and chased and railfanned the CPKC Holiday Train as it makes its way through New York. Oh yeah, and a few trips to Canada as well. I’ve captured the train in brilliant night shots, in stunning daytime frames, in all sorts of formats. Hell, there’s an entire blog subcategory devoted to the Holiday Train.

This time … I want the lenticular shot. I want to show the Holiday Train and its cascade of spectacular twinkling lights. I want to show the train as it cycles through its incredible decorated boxcars and rolling stock. And I want to capture it on the Cohoes-Waterford Bridge.

But there are a hundred thousand factors working against me. Timing. Travel. Schedule. Sunrise. Even the slightest variable can cause this project to fall completely apart.

And here I am. Saying to all 100,000 of those factors, “Bring it on, and I’ll take them all on.”

Here’s how this should work.

On Monday, November 24, the CPKC Holiday Train will have several shows in Kahnawa’ke, in Saint-Constant, in Delson, and in Lacolle. It will then travel by night to Albany, and should pass the Cohoes-Waterford Bridge by sunrise. The Cohoes-Waterford Bridge runs parallel to the Route 32 automobile crossing, and all I need to do is get my camera in place, lock down the tripod, lock down the selected lens, and wait for the train to pass.

I’m checking the weather forecasts on my cell phone. Sunrise and “golden hour” would be fantastic, as the sun would rise behind me and shine on the CPKC Holiday Train. It will be close.

On Monday morning, I drove over to the Cohoes-Waterford Bridge. I need to scope out my options. I can’t leave anything to chance. I can’t fumble for the correct lens while the train is on its way. No.

So I tested things out with a panoramic photo from my cell phone camera. Just to determine where to stand on the bridge to get the best view of everything.

Okay. I’ve got the spot. Maybe a little more to the left, I don’t know.

I went back later that day and tested a few shots with different lenses. There’s plenty to pick from – I tried a Nikon 28mm f/2.8, I tried my Zodiak 180° fisheye lens with a P6-NEF adapter …

And in the end, I went with the Vivitar.

Meanwhile, as I’m testing my lenses, I’m watching as a slew of railroad construction vehicles traverse the tracks.

Okay. I’m going with the Vivitar.

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It’s now Wednesday morning.

It’s freakin’ cold out here.

I’m bundled up – sweatshirt, long johns, knit cap – I’m wearing enough layers to cosplay as the Michelin Man. Everything that I want from this project has to be perfect. One shot. If I miss this … there’s no chance for a do-over. It’s either do this now at 6:00 a.m., or wait here as the train passes on its return trip to the Adirondacks at 5:00 p.m. with 500 other railfans and foamers photographing the train at the same time.

Trust me. I want this shot like I want air.

But there’s still so many variables working against me. If the train is too early, it will interfere with Amtrak’s scheduled route that uses the same track. If the train is too late, it won’t stop on the bridge at all, and will race to Kenwood Yard for its scheduled arrival. And I still don’t even know if this will actually work at all.

But it doesn’t matter. This is my holiday tradition. It’s my emotional proof that the holiday season really DOES mean something. For one brief, brief moment, I’m in a happy place. A happy childhood that blots out every torment and trauma and toxicity that shaped my life.

Trust me, I want that moment. A holiday tradition in evergreens and snowflakes and diesel fuel and rope lights and LED signage.

Maybe you didn’t hear me on this. I want this photo in the same way that I want life.

Yeah, you’re thinking. Chuck’s getting a wee bit over the top on this.

Right. Like none of you ever counted the days / hours / minutes / seconds for Christmas morning. Like you didn’t run down the stairs the moment you woke up on December 25th, ready to tear into the biggest wrapped present under the tree. You know you did. Do not lie to me. Santa Claus reads this blog, and one lie can shift your name from the nice PlayStation 5 list to the naughty list, whose gift list includes those boxes of cured meats from Hickory Farms.

Brr. It’s freezing out here. Why didn’t I stop somewhere and buy some coffee?

I know why. That five minutes waiting for some coffee might have been the five minutes when the train just chugged on by and I missed it. Coffee can wait. And in this cold, the last thing I need is to take an emergency coffee-powered bathroom break. Coffee can wait. Plus, I have a nice cold can of Sugar Free Red Bull in the car for later. A nice sub-zero mixture of taurine and caffeine.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been in communication with CPKC’s Public Relations Department about setting up this photo shoot. It’s a major ask. If I want brilliant lights, I need these photos to be tack sharp. Any train movement would ruin the tack sharpiness. But if the train is parked on the track for any extended length of time, it could interfere with Amtrak’s passenger trains, which also use this track.

Great. Last thing I need is to snarl up the entire Northeast Corridor because I wanted a photo.

Thankfully, I worked with CPKC and with the Holiday Train’s trainmaster. They said if it was possible, I could have two minutes on the bridge.

Two minutes is all I need.

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It’s still colder than a pawnbroker’s heart outside. It’s 5:30 in the morning. I’m in constant contact with the Holiday Train’s trainmaster. The train is on its southern descent. Only 30 miles to go.

20 miles.

10 miles.

I’m at what would be originally designated as mile marker A-9, if you use the old Delaware and Hudson mile post markings where “A” is Albany, and the number is the miles away from Albany. One more call from the trainmaster. He’s at mile post A-11.

Get ready, Chuck. Any last minute adjustments, make them now.

And then …

The train arrives.

And … slowly … it stops. Right on the track.

You’ve got two minutes, Chuck.

Make it happen.

And I made it happen. A few adjustments here and there, some rapid-fire photography, and …

Ladies and gentlemen …

Dream come true.

Oh my God this is breathtaking!!

Let’s see if I can pull another one out of the mix.

These images look good … let’s try them.

Short pile for sure!

Lenticular pirnt for sure!

I take a few extra photos for safety shots … and …

As I finish capturing a few more exposures …

The train started to move.

My two minutes have expired.

I got it. I got it, though.

A few extra shots as the train pulls away … a nice static shot in the night …

My sincere thanks and appreciation to the staff at CPKC for helping me put this together. This was an incredible ask, and I’m so blessed that they worked with me to achieve this image.

If I don’t get another Holiday Train image this year, I will be satisfied.

But you know I’m on my way to Fort Edward this afternoon for more photos.

And this time, I’m shooting with film.

I kinda have an idea for the Fort Edward show that’s been noodling in the back of my brain for a few years now.

A kind of, shall we say, buena vista panorama shot. 😀