The song that carries us home — “Life Is Like a Mountain Railway”, where Linda Ronstadt turns an old hymn into a prayer whispered against the wind
There are songs that seem to know the road better than we do — songs that rise from the earth itself, carrying the dust of journeys long taken and hearts long tired. “Life Is Like a Mountain Railway”, as sung by Linda Ronstadt on her 1970 album Silk Purse, is one of those rare songs. It was never meant for the charts; it was meant for the soul. The album reached only modest numbers in its day, yet this track — quiet, reverent, unhurried — has outlived all of that.
The hymn itself is older than any of us. Written in the 1890s by M.E. Abbey with music by Charles D. Tillman, it was once sung in churches and gatherings where faith had to do its work softly, where people carried more loss than luxury. But when Linda Ronstadt sang it, she gave it another kind of life — not the thunder of revival, but the hush of reflection. Her voice, still young but already edged with wisdom, takes the melody and holds it as one might hold the hand of someone who has walked too long alone.
It begins gently, almost as if the singer were humming to herself. “Life is like a mountain railway, with an engineer that’s brave…” The words are simple, but they carry the weight of generations who learned that courage is quieter than people think. You can hear the train in her phrasing — the even rhythm of the rails, the patience of someone looking out across a long, uncertain stretch. She never rushes. She never insists. She lets the lyric breathe, trusting that its truth will reach whoever needs it.
Behind her, the music is spare and steady: a slow sway of guitars, a pulse of rhythm like the turn of steel wheels. No grandeur, no spotlight — just the open road of sound. And in that space, her voice becomes both traveler and guide. There’s something deeply human in it: not the certainty of belief, but the kindness of faith — the sense that even if we don’t know where the track will end, we can still move forward with grace.
When Ronstadt recorded Silk Purse, she was still finding her way, somewhere between country and folk, still shy of the enormous fame that would come later. Yet in this one song, you can already hear what would make her unforgettable: that ability to sing as if she were listening too, to let empathy shape the sound. “Life Is Like a Mountain Railway” isn’t a sermon. It’s a companion. A voice that sits beside you on a long night and says, keep your hand upon the throttle, your eye upon the rail.
For those who grew up with the scratch of vinyl and the soft pop of the needle, this track may feel like opening an old family Bible and finding a pressed flower inside — fragile, faded, but still fragrant. It reminds you of the quiet strength our parents and grandparents must have had — the kind that doesn’t show off, the kind that endures.
And when the song fades, what remains isn’t religion so much as reassurance. A feeling that maybe life, for all its curves and shadows, is still a kind of beautiful railway — and that someone, somewhere, is keeping watch over the line. You close your eyes, the room falls still, and for a few tender seconds, you can almost hear that train — the slow rhythm of faith, the hum of mercy, and Linda Ronstadt’s voice, gentle as twilight, singing you safely on your way.