There was a station manager who was a superhero, but honestly I was far more impressed with the bunnies that spawned near the flowers. There was also a plot, I think, but I was more concerned with building hospitals to watch ambulances drive around.

Lego Loco was a PC game released in 1998, and somehow I remember it. The game was, according to one review, a train-building simulator with a Lego cover and goodness if that ain’t accurate. Players chose a world to build in, each unique for their environment: plain grass world, snow-level, desert, etc. After that players were given a floating tool-box that offered various structures to build. These included: train depots, houses, roads, sidewalks, train-tracks, hospitals, fire stations, farms, volcanos, trees, etc.

After building a small town I would wait. 

Wait for them.

Usually the first person to appear would be a skateboarder, or a little girl jumping rope. The last one was unforgettable because if I picked her up she would scream. It was a loud shriek that drove my poor mother nuts. More Lego humans would appear, each with their own names and they would range from punk rocker with pink mohawk, old man with a cane, the train manager (unforgettable in his yellow shirt, red cap, and pencil mustache), bunny rabbits, redneck in overalls, etc. 

What I’ve never forgotten was their voices. Like Animal Crossing or the Sims, the citizens of Lego Loco spoke an incomprehensible gibberish that for decades I thought I only imagined. Picking them up too much would make them yell at me and leaving them in a field off the sidewalk would leave them frozen and immobilized.

Cars would appear on the roads after placing certain buildings and drive around. One time I made 30 hospitals, only to be disappointed that only five ambulances appeared.

There was a mail service where players could write cards and, if they had an internet connection, could actually send them to other players. We never had reliable internet, so my postcards stacked up in the ram of my family’s personal computer eventually lost to time. 

The trains were fun and I killed hours making elaborate networks of incomprehensible loops. Watching trains dip into tunnels and reappear on the opposite side of the world was a surreal experience. It was also the precursor to my eventual love for Railroad Tycoon 3, and city building simulators like Pharaoh.

I distinctly remember the cover. It was bright green, with a yellow train about to run off the edge into the real world. A group of Lego people watched it pass by excited, scared, and annoyed. Ultramarine font that was near-impossible to read simply: LOCO.

None of this is actually an argument for an essay. I’ve just spent years wondering whether this videogame actually existed or if I imagined it. Recently I discovered it again, and I thought I should write it down before it’s completely forgotten. The strange Lego videogame for PC that I almost forgot.

Joshua “Jammer” Smith

2.12.2024


Like what you’re reading?  Buy me a coffee & support my Patreon.  Please and thank you.

https://www.patreon.com/jammerdraws

***UPDATE***

I’ve uploaded a video on YouTube of myself reading this essay. You can listen to me read it by following the link below:
499 Words About: Lego Loco (youtube.com)

Previous
Previous

Pac-Man: The Joy of Movement

Next
Next

Final Fantasy 7: Let’s Take the Stairs!