Kirkby Stephen East, many years ago...
The snow whipped and whirled around through the air as the hills became covered in mountains of the silly soft stuff. The weather forecasters had been predicting that a massive storm was about to hit, and as such everybody was on high alert. The Stainmore route was in especial danger. This line, rather than cutting under the hills through tunnels, ran straight over the top of them, and features vulnerable bridges and deep cuttings- the worst possible places for trains to get stuck should they encounter difficulties.
Barry simmered in the yard at Kirkby Stephen East one cold winter's morning. It was extremely cold, and pitch black. The sun was yet to rise this early in the morning, and the glow of the signal lights could barely be seen in the gloom. His lamps barely penetrated the repidly developing fog, and as a consequence he was worried. "I shan't like it if we get stranded," he said to himself.
Later on, Quibble Pants arrived, fully equipped for the cold weather, and clambered onto Barry's footplate. "Come on Barry!" he said, in a chipper tone that was quite the opposite to how Barry was feeling. "We're due away any minute, and the line is better than they expected, according to the station master."
"I should hope so," Barry said, sounding worried. "There are many exposed bridges and deep cuttings, all of which are perfect for frost and snow to build up. I don't like the snow one bit."
"Neither do I," Quibble admitted. "But the freight must always get through, no matter what. Let's go!"
Just then, the signal arm to the goods line dropped, and they were ready to go. Barry sounded his whistle to alert the signalman to his location, and that he was ready. He puffed forward with his relatively light load, passing a passenger train coming in from the summit. "Look out up there!" the engine of the other train called. "In places I could barely see where I was going!"
"Thanks for the warning," Barry replied. He was beginning to feel more and more nervous. He began the climb up to Stainmore Summit, thumping over Belah Viaduct. He never liked going over Belah Viaduct. The bridge was old, and made from wrought iron, and swayed and creaked whenever anything passed over it. He'd heard it was designed by the same man who had designed the Tay Bridge. Engines and their drivers know all too well how that story ends.
They had just passed through Barras station when it happened. They entered a section of the line near a deep cutting, when suddenly-
"Look out!" Quibble called, and pointed ahead. "Snowfall on the tracks!"
It was too late. Barry and his train ploughed into the snow and stalled. Barry tried to move, but his wheels skidded whenever he tried to move. The guard tried digging the snow away, but more simply fell into its place, and the heavy trucks were held in place as well. "Fire and smoke!" Barry said. "I'm stuck!"
Quibble and the guard tried using hot embers and lumps of coal to melt the snow, but it did no good. "We'll have to stay here until help arrives," said the guard. "Whenever that is. I've heard the line up to the summit from Barnard Castle is blocked too."
"That is bad," Quibble said. "Rescue could be days away now. I'll hide with you in the brake van. Hopefully it won't be long."
"What about me?" Barry asked. "I'll be an icycle before long!"
Quibble Pants climbed onto the footplate once more and threw Barry's fire out to ensure his boiler wasn't damaged. Later in the day, he and the guard were rescued by a helicopter, but Barry couldn't be helped. He sat there in the snow for many days, getting colder and more miserable. "Oh dear," he said to himself. "I shall be stuck here forever at this rate! I shall never see anything else again!"
At long last, help arrived, as two other engines arrived. They brought with them snowploughs, and a gang of men to help clean things up. "Hello Barry!" said the first engine, his voice slightly muffled by the snowplough. "Looks like we both had a bad lot of it!"
"Wouldn't you be cracking a joke by now, Stan?" Barry asked.
"Not especially, Barry," Stan replied. "We got stuck too! Our crews and these men had to dig us out. There are also some nice cameramen from the British Film Institute who want to film the recovery effort."
"But," said Quibble, hopping out of the lead snowplough, "our priority remains getting this train unstuck. We'll have to work as quickly as we can."
Soon the men got to work, digging the snow away. The wind howled overhead, and the temperatures dropped to dangerously low levels, with the men being unable to work for longer than thirty minutes at once. They took refuge during their breaks in a coach at the back of the train, and thawed Barry's parts out using rags soaked in paraffin. When the train was ready to move, Stan towed Barry down to Barnard Castle. "Here's your goods!" he joked. "Just four days late!"
Barry was just happy to be out of the snow!
Present day
"Eventually," Barry finished, "I was bought from a scrapyard, and restored to full working order. I normally live near Loughborough in the Midlands. We also have a Black 5, like you, Henry."
"That did sound like a scary experience," Fluttershy said. "Henry and I were once caught in a snowdrift, and Donald and Douglas had to get us out. But why do we have a new engine here?"
"There's some sort of exhibition taking place here soon," Quibble explained, "and Barry and I were asked to come along and take part. There's also some news about a special visit to somewhere in London, but I wouldn't trust idle rumours. But never underestimate snow. It can be very dangerous, and leave you in quite a mess."