Hey, ever come across an old train depot that’s still standing after a flood? I’ve been watching it hold up, and it looks like a story you’d want to spin.

Old Widow’s Pass, the depot that’s held up against the river’s wrath for decades. The iron tracks are rust‑tinged, the wooden platform still creaks underfoot, and the water’s ghost lingers just beyond the low wall. Feel free to frame it like a stubborn relic that survived a flood, and let the old rails tell a story of weathering, resilience, and the stubborn kind of quiet that only a place like that can give.