As soon as the door of the oil-immersed tank was opened, hot air gushed out, followed by a distinctive smell. The crane lifted a row of sleepers out of the tank and stacked them at the discharge outlet, each one shining black. To outsiders, this might seem like the work was done. However, no one in the workshop was in a hurry to move them. This batch of wood had to stay quietly on the site for a while longer. Only when they had had enough would they be loaded onto trucks for shipment.
Many people think that soaking in oil is the end of the process, and that after the wood is fully soaked in the tank, it can be taken out, dried, and ready to use. It seems so straightforward. However, there are rules in the factory, and there is a quiet period between taking out the wood from the tank and delivering it out of the factory. During this period, no one intervenes; it all relies on the wood to slowly finish the process on its own. While it may seem like a waste of time, it is actually the most stable part of the entire process.
The skill in the tank is propelled forward. The oil enters the wood, relying on the force within the tank, sending it section by section deep into the fibers, swiftly and vigorously. The moment it exits the tank, the force dissipates, but the oil doesn't stop. It follows the cracks in the wood, slowly and evenly penetrating, filling in the areas not taken care of in the tank, inch by inch. The work done in a hurry and the work done with care are two different things. The journey in the tank is a rush, while the exit from the tank is a leisurely stroll. The stroll may seem slow, but the steps are solid. This process is invisible to outsiders and intangible to touch, yet it is indeed progressing, and cannot be hurried.
It can't be sped up, and there's no one to blame. The seams of the wood are fine, and the oil flows through them like people walking through narrow alleys, only able to move slowly one after another. Urging it is useless. Inside the tank, there is external force to help, and it can be forcefully transported for a while. Outside the tank, without external force, it all depends on the oil's own nature. Although it moves slowly, its advantage is stability. Wherever it goes, it can be fed. Don't underestimate its small steps, because it keeps moving. After a while, it takes care of everything inside and outside.
It's the same principle as baking bread. When the bread is just baked, don't rush to cut it. At this time, the heat inside is still escaping, and if you cut it, the surface will be messy and the shape will be completely ruined. If you let it sit for half an hour before cutting, the cut will be neat, and both the inside and outside will have set. The same goes for wood. The oil needs to be fully absorbed and stabilized inside, and only then can this protective asset be truly considered as acquired. Only when it's actually acquired counts, not just when it's recorded in the accounts.
The surface layer also requires attention. Freshly taken out of the tank, the sleepers have a layer of floating oil on the outside, which makes them shiny, but they are too wet to be taken out like this. They are spread out on the ground and left to be slowly taken care of by the wind and the sun. As the floating oil settles down a bit, the surface of the wood becomes dry and smooth, making it easier to bundle and load onto the truck. This is not a case of procrastination. The wood has absorbed oil for a long time, and by finishing off the process and allowing it to settle down from the inside out, it will have a dignified appearance when it is presented. When it arrives at the construction site upright, it can be unloaded smoothly and neatly, making everyone who sees it feel comfortable.
Occasionally, a driver would urge at the door, saying that the logs had already been unloaded from the tank, so why were they still lying on the yard. The experienced worker in the factory waved his hand, saying it didn't matter if it took a day or two longer, just let it stabilize the oil. The driver lit another cigarette. People were in a hurry, but the logs were not; they had plenty of patience.
This process, though seemingly simple, can indeed be streamlined. When loaded and shipped, they all appear identical, black and uniform. The difference lies within. Whether the oil is evenly applied and the stability is maintained, only on the track will the true difference be revealed. Once the sleepers are laid on the track, they will remain in place for many years. Therefore, laying a solid foundation before use is of utmost importance.
The stability that comes with patience works everywhere. The sleepers on the main line are constantly being rolled by trains, and the oil beneath them is their sustenance for decades. The dampness in the mining tunnels is kept away by this layer of oil. On the bridge, where the wind is strong and the sun is harsh, it also bears the brunt. The sleepers in the station yard are closely packed, and the trains passing by, all rely on this foundation. It's the same everywhere. The few extra days before being put into service will save people from worrying for decades to come.
Speaking of which, taking out the can doesn't mean leaving the factory. The quiet period in between is the final step in the entire process, and it's also the only step that doesn't require human intervention. This step doesn't rely on people, but on time. The wood absorbs the oil on its own, and people just have to wait.
