Paignton South Devon - Dartmouth Steam Railway and River Boat Company's operational manager has had a lifetime of steam.
 
Peter Roach's association with the Paignton to Kingswear line began in 1972, when as a schoolboy, aged 13, he used the train to get to classes at Churston Ferrers Grammar School.
 
His is the last generation to remember steam travel as part of daily life.
 
These days for thousands of passengers every year, it is a journey into a bygone age.
 
Now, one lucky winner of our Herald Express competition will be able to take the controls on the footplate.
 
And, oh my goodness, what a thrill, even for a girl like me.
 
My late dad, Mike Taylor, loved steam trains.
 
In a family with two daughters, it was not easy for him to tempt us to every steam rally going.
 
Fred Dibnah was an icon for dad and even though he wasn't a bona fide spotter, he would spend far too long checking out a locomotive or two.
 
So as I clamber up on to the footplate with a fire burning in the belly of 90-year old "Goliath", I know in every fibre of mine that dad helped to weave, that this journey is really his.
 
As we set off from Paignton, Peter explains while pointing to various levers, wheels, and gears, how this machine works.
 
He talks about technical things which go over my head, but which I know people like my dad would instantly grasp.
 
What I do know though is there can be nothing else to compare with rattling down the tracks with a ball of fire just feet away from you, with the unmistakable smell of burning coal, and the unerring chug of the engine vibrating through the blackened floorboards.
 
My cheeks are pink and hands are black already.
 
Peter says:  "A steam engine is a living thing. You can't just turn it on or off. That is part of the appeal. This is how our grandparents travelled and there is the romance of steam. The funny thing is by the end of the steam era, everyone was glad to see the back of it. It was dirty, hot, and unreliable."
 
The 5239 "Goliath" is a 1924 locomotive built for transporting coal in the Welsh valleys.
 
It went for scrap in 1964, in Barry, was revived in 1973 by the railway, and pressed back into service in 1975.
 
Neatly, with the opening up of a coal mine in Wales, it once again runs on Welsh coal.
 
Peter tells me the "Goliath" is powered by 1,800 gallons of water heated by 1.5 tonnes of coal for four daily round trips from Paignton to Kingswear.
 
Fuel thirsty it may be, but as this is the only mode of transport with the opportunity to blow a three-second whistle while a picture postcard view of the South Devon coastline races by, this is the only way to travel.
 
It seems that the schoolboy Peter agreed.
 
He opted for the train over the bus as his chosen school transport.
 
And it was a decision which has shaped his entire working life.
 
The Kingswear line was abandoned by British Rail at the end of 1972 and when the Dartmouth Steam Railway took over in 1973, Peter became a volunteer during the school holidays preparing the engines.
 
He was employed by the firm and worked in every aspect of the business in the workshops, as a driver, and now operational director.
 
He has been working the line since day dot.
 
That explains why as we approach the incline towards Churston station, he tells me we are racing along at 20 mph.
 
I look around for a mileometer, but can't see one.
 
"How do you know that," I say.
 
"You just know," he replies.
 
Peter is one of the few people who has driven the Flying Scotsman.
 
He took the controls when it visited Paignton in 1993.
 
He explained how as a trainspotter he watched from Hackney marshes as it arrived into Newton Abbot in 2000.
 
"I remember looking around and thinking, I've driven that, anyone else here driven that?"
 
Peter is one of the few people still employed as a steam driver.
 
The rail company, which also operates buses, boats, and the Kingswear Castle coal-fired paddle steamer, still has a 120 strong staff and as a commercial operation, is not eligible for any grants.
 
That says a lot when you consider the ongoing maintenance bill for these mighty machines.
 
When three springs went pop on the "Goliath" some time back, the bill was £350,000.
 
"All of this has to be paid by bums on seats," Peter said.
 
Seb Hambly is a former marine engineer and is responsible for keeping the fire going.
 
He offers me the chance to shovel some coal into the fireball.
 
I am delighted to oblige.
 
He has worked as a fireman for three years.
 
He says:  "It really is a living, breathing, thing, and the art is to try to control it. I get to play with fire everyday and the beauty of it for me is keeping heritage alive."
 
The opportunity comes for the final whistle of the journey.
 
I grab the cord and as the last toot-toot rings out, I look to the sky and whisper, "This is for you, dad."
 
Hannah Finch.