It’s late June and a black Nissan Sentra rolls into Flagstaff, fine ash sticking to the windshield from wildfires burning nearby. Photographer Mark Lipczynski, 46, still has a long way to go before reaching the object of his trip: Utah’s Promontory Summit. 

The area has an almost religious significance for lifelong train lovers like him. It’s where the tracks built by the Central Pacific and Union Pacific railroads met to create the transcontinental rail route in 1869. Golden Spike National Historical Park stands there today, named for the final railroad spike forged from gold and hammered into place to complete the track. You could say it’s the very spot that united these United States.

For a long time, Lipczynski has led a double life—a triple one, in fact. Though his bread-and-butter trade consists of commercial photography, he’s also transformed a childhood fascination with trains into two distinct bodies of work: moody, artistic images for the art gallery crowd; and more naturalistic, highly detailed shots aimed at fellow train enthusiasts. 

 Now, both sides of this obsession live online, but on separate websites. MarkTraain.com features the arty stuff, AnalogFoamer.com the nerd nip. The former he’s been adding to for years, but has only recently given its own branded URL. Analog Foamer, named in part for the term rail workers apply to those who “foam at the mouth” over trains, he built from scratch in April and May of 2020 after COVID brought paying work to a near standstill.  

“I’m at a crossroads trying to figure out what I’m doing with all this,” he admits. “I don’t know which I should focus more on developing.” So far, he’s found no “golden spike” to unite them. What he is certain of is this: His life’s path lies somewhere on the rails.

Since reading Rebecca Solnit’s book “River of Shadows” shortly after his Taos retreat, Lipczynski has been fascinated by the interaction between photography and our perceptions of time and distance.

That 2004 study of the development of the camera shutter and other time-collapsing technologies led him to experiment with longer exposures (10 to 20 seconds) using a 1940s, 4-by-5 format Graflex Speed Graphic press camera. These pictures, prominently featured on MarkTraain.com, he’s dubbed “Time Machine” images. Some of the most intriguing transform the trains he shoots passing by into solid, eerie “walls” that appear to cleave the land in two – the symbolism can be overwhelming.

“This is my way of telling the story of the history of the railroad that built a nation, transfiguring the landscape. There was this rush to accelerate time and shorten distance,” he says. “That’s why I feel like it’s important to go up to Promontory Summit and maybe connect with some images there that continue that narrative.”

On his first day in Utah, he spends some time perched atop a rock, camera at the ready, waiting for a train. A father and son pull up and share what they know about the local rail activity. Soon, all three fall into an easy silence, squinting out over the long stretch of track.

“We’re all a bunch of introverts,” Lipczynski admits. “We don’t want to talk about what we’re doing. It’s just something that we love.”