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// Stage 1-Penzance to Plymouth 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: Race to the Edge 
// by The Blue EM2 
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The task of moving the fully assembled train from Falmouth to Penzance had proven to be a challenge of sorts. Rebecca had been put into light steam earlier that day, and this had been enough to get her lubricators checked and various parts greased. After that, the engineers had ensured she was otherwise ready to run.

Hitch had then backed her onto her train, which consisted of the freshly restored support coach and ten MK1 coaches stringing out behind her. "360 miles is certainly quite a lot!" Rebecca noted. "I did some long runs in the day, but nothing quite like that!"

"What was your longest typical run?" Hitch asked.

"Atlantic Coast Express, Waterloo to Bideford portion. 181 miles bufferstop to bufferstop."

"So not quite as bad as the Proclaimers then," Hitch replied.

"Sorry?"

"500 miles? Based on calculations, they end up travelling 1,000 miles from Scotland to somewhere in either the sea or Europe, depending on which way they were going."

"Oh," Rebecca said, as Sophie was coupled to the front.

"Ready to go, Charles?" Sophie called.

A familiar voice grumbled from the back. "This is most undignified. I should be leading from the front."

"Arr, yee will be, matey!" Salty informed him. "When you change directions at Truro, you'll be leadin'!"

"And then everybody will see my magnificence," Charles smiled, as he blasted his horn. "Ready!"

With that, the pair of Class 33s moved off, towing the rather unusual train with them up the hill. It proved to be an easy run to Truro, all things told. At this time of day, traffic was light, and as a result there were very few crossing trains, only a single goods.

When they got to Truro, the convoy switched directions. "Keep a close eye on the signals," Zipp radioed to the others as they began to move off again.

"How can I?" Charles asked. "I'm staring at a tailboard here. The world is also racing away from me rather than moving towards me, which is odd."

The run to Penzance was rather more challenging than the run back to Truro, as the formation had been pathed behind a stopping passenger train. And that meant it was stopping everywhere.

Inside the support coach, a crew consisting of Sunny, Izzy, Argyle, Goldie, Lord and Lady Haven,  and Misty (who would later be joining Hitch in the cab). Pipp and Zipp would also be helping out, but they were currently elsewhere.

"So, who's doing the first leg?" Argyle asked.

A sheet was rolled out before them. "I propose that we have Hitch and Misty go as far as Plymouth," Lord Haven suggested. "It is then that we have a crew change for the difficult climb over the South Devon Banks as far as Exeter. After that, another crew for the run from Exeter to Bristol. Then two more crews, as owing to projected traffic levels the section from Bristol to Paddington has been split into two sections."

A blast of a horn signified they had at last arrived at Penzance.





Sure enough, the three motorists were waiting for them. Whilst the two diesels were removed from the train and stabled in sidings, Hitch got Rebecca up to full operating temperature. Rebecca looked nervously at the three cars parked near the station. "Those all look very powerful," she said. "And they each only have one occupant- the driver!"

"Those cars may be powerful," Hitch replied, "but we have a shorter distance to travel to Plymouth. And a higher speed limit to boot. Hopefully we should be able to pull this off without any difficulties."

Mike called over. "Ready to go?" he said.

"Ready!" Hitch replied.

A man in a white labcoat blasted a whistle, and the drivers ran for their cars. Hitch blasted Rebecca's whistle, opened her cylinder cocks, released her brakes, and once the needle showed 21 inches on the pressure gauge opened the regulator.

Steam shot into the air as Rebecca began to move forward, steam also being propelled forward as the train got underway. Unfortunately, a good start was compromised was her wheels starting to slip quite badly. "Ease off a bit!" she called.

Hitch reduced steam in response, and the train was soon much more stable as it got underway. The formation thundered past the diesel depot doing about forty miles an hour, and was soon biting into the gradient on its way up into the hills. As the train cleared the junction for the St. Ives line, a short downhill section allowed them to gain a bit more speed. They would need it for the climb to Camborne.

And before long the climb arrived. The formation hammered into it at seventy miles an hour, and started climbing. They did lose a bit of speed on the climb, but Rebecca was steaming well and maintaining boiler pressure at a high rate.

Before long, they were flying through Truro, where a large crowd had turned out to cheer them through. On the footplate, Hitch carefully checked the gauges and controls. "I think we're good to go for the climb," he said.

Misty was, at the same time, shovelling coal into the firebox. "This is a larger firebox than I'm used to!" she said. "And a lot hotter too! What's our pressure reading?"

Hitch glanced up. "240 Pounds per Square Inch. At this rate we may have to let the safety valves open!"

As they started the climb towards Liskeard, Rebecca began to struggle with the heavy load. Speed was dropping as they climbed through Bodmin, dropping to fifty as they started the next grade. Once at the top, they flew down the other side, trying to gain as much speed as possible.

At long last, the difficult climb through Saltash was complete, and the train rolled over the Brunel Bridge- and into the welcoming arms of Devon, where another crowd had turned out to see them.

Hitch brought them to a stop and hopped off the footplate, walking to the compartment and opening it. "We're booked to wait here for twenty minutes," he said. "Get any water pumped that you need and replenish coal stocks."

"We're probably going to be quite tanned by the time this is over," Argyle noted. "Looks like it's us next, Goldie."