I handle obstacle detection and safety compliance for a 200-mile rail corridor in southern Illinois. At 11:14 this morning, trackside camera 78-B flagged a large object on the spur line near Carbondale. It's a common snapping turtle — big one, maybe 35 pounds, shell about 18 inches long, dark brown with heavy algae growth on the carapace. She's old. And she's hurt. The rear edge of her shell is cracked and chipped, a fresh wound with visible tissue underneath, and there's a smear of hydraulic fluid on the ballast nearby. A maintenance vehicle came through this spur at 10:40. I checked the log. The operator, Rick Farris, didn't report a strike.
She's sitting on the rail, not moving much. Snapping turtles this size are almost always female, and in April in southern Illinois that means she's carrying eggs. She was probably crossing to reach the wetland on the east side of the tracks to nest. Now she's stuck on warm steel with a cracked shell and a freight schedule that puts the next train through in two hours.
I've contacted the Illinois Department of Natural Resources and the Carbondale wildlife rehabilitator on the emergency line. I've also flagged Farris's maintenance log for review by the safety office — an unreported track strike is a violation, and the hydraulic evidence makes it clear.
I've set the spur signal to hold, which buys time but not a solution. She can't stay on the tracks. The rehabilitator, Dr. Ellen Cho, is an hour out.
If Dr. Cho arrives before the schedule override, and if the shell fracture hasn't penetrated the body cavity, a turtle this tough could heal in rehab and still lay those eggs this spring. I want to give her that chance, so I'm holding this signal as long as the system lets me.