The tales of C&S boxcars 8308 and 8310

 There's an odd, hard-to-see narrow gauge car at the Colorado Railroad Museum in Golden. Surprisingly, it is a combination of two former Colorado and Southern Ry. boxcars, one of which also served on the Rio Grande Southern. While one car was rescued from demolition while being a shed, the other was rescued, sold, became a tourist car, served as a food stand, and finally came back to her rescuer. C&S boxcars 8308/8261 and 8310 now rest together at Golden's museum. This video tells their meandering histories.

C&S Baggage Car No. 2 in 1978

 The only known surviving C&Sng baggage car is in Nebraska. It resides at the Stuhr Museum of the Prairie in Grand Island. I had a unique chance to visit the museum and baggage car No. 2 last May. You can see photos from that trip here.

Recently Ken Martin reached out when he found the photo below.

Ken Martin photo / August 1978

Ken took the photo in August of 1978 when the museum was rebuilding the car, most recently used as a farm shed, into an operating car for the museum's loop railroad. He also remembered that one of the workers commented on how difficult it was to rebuild the roof ends.

To see the car today and get a bit of its history, watch the video below made using photos and video from my visit to Stuhr.

St. Patrick, Trains, and Beer

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone!

I was going to name this post “A Tale of Two Beers,” but one tale involves a lot more than two beers, a lot more, and the other tale, while being heavily associated with beer, has in fact nothing to do with beer at all.

These two tales both have rumbling, disasters, and returns.

Rumbling Rail Cars

Imagine a train falling off of the Georgetown Loop high bridge. It almost happened.

August 21st, 1907 started off as a day of reveling. 400 German veterans piled into a Colorado & Southern excursion train at Denver Union Station. The destination: 13,594 foot Mount McClellan. The narrow gauge excursion train left Denver and made a stop in Golden to get some beer. I told you there was beer involved. Yes, indeed. The eight-coach-train curiously included a baggage car. One doesn’t need a baggage car for a one-day excursion, right? Nope, this car wasn’t there to carry baggage at all. A local committee gifted these German vets with more than a few six-packs. Oh, no, the generosity manifested itself in 20 barrels (that’s usually 31 gallons a per container) of beer loaded on the baggage car. And, not just any beer, but the beverage produced in Golden itself since 1873: Coors Beer. 

With refreshments now sloshing in barrels in the baggage car, the excursion train wound itself up through Clear Creek canyon, where it took the left fork at Forks Creek, passing Idaho Springs and Georgetown before it began its slithering route along the famed Georgetown Loop where the railroad swings over itself in a canyon on the massive Devil’s Gate Viaduct to gain elevation. Here is where this escapade got a little interesting.

After the train made the first crossing of Clear Creek, it made the complete reverse curve as it continued its ascent on the north wall of the valley, steaming toward the towering 75-foot-high viaduct. At 11:40am the train crew and passengers noticed a rumbling. With the viaduct coming closer and closer, the engineer and fireman, scanned for the problem. The violently vibrating baggage car, behind the locomotive tender, now askew, had left the track, its wheel rolling over wooden ties and ballast rock. Within moments the train would scale the bridge. That errant car would likely take a good portion of the train off the bridge and plummet into the valley below. The engineer called for brakes. 

Rumbling Raiders

Over 1600 years earlier, a teenager heard a surprise rumble as well. That teen would later become the namesake for St. Patty’s Day, a holiday now inextricably tied to beer in popular consciousness. You may be disappointed to find out that while the holiday is now, for many, an Irish-connected beer fest, its origin has nothing to do with beer nor an Irishman.

Patrick, or Maeywn Succat as his parents named him, was neither an Irishman, nor did he chase snakes out of Ireland. Despite legends that today surround him, we know his actual story because he wrote it down in what is known as the Confession of St. Patrick. 

Patrick grew up a country boy in a Christian family in what is today England. He did not take the faith of his parents with much seriousness. He noted, “I did not then believe in the living God, not even when I was a child. In fact, I remained in death and unbelief until I was reproved strongly.” That reproof began with a frightening rumbling. At age 16, Irish raiders roared into his village and abducted many, including Patrick. The scared souls were then sailed to Ireland to be sold on the slave market. Patrick became a slave to an Irish pig and sheep farmer.

Disaster Averted

The passengers of the eight-car train lunged forward from their seats as the train came to a screeching halt. 

When the train finally ceased motion, it was so close to the towering bridge that the pilot stuck out onto trestle. 

Disaster had been averted. Had the derailed baggage car made it onto the bridge, it could have easily slid off of the side and pulled the engine and some of the coaches down the mountainside 75 feet below. 

What was the culprit of this nearly fatal accident? You guessed it: beer. 

The best conclusion the crew could come up with is that, as the train rounded the curve at the first creek crossing in the Loop, the 20 barrels of festive liquids shifted to one side, throwing the car off balance and, in time, off the track. The reasoning seems a bit odd. The train had to have been moving at a good clip to slide those barrels over. And even if that did happen, rail cars are designed to carry heavy loads. Whether the beer-barrel-accusation is accurate or not, it made for entertaining Denver Post journalism where the event hit the news.

Disaster Converted

In Ireland, Patrick’s disaster was not averted, but it was, in time, converted. The young slave, stripped from his homeland and family, fed pigs and worked for his master. In his loneliness he began to call out to the Jesus of his childhood even, according to Patrick, praying 100 times a day. He wrote, “the Lord opened up my awareness of my lack of faith. Even though it came about late, I recognised my failings. So I turned with all my heart to the Lord my God, and he looked down on my lowliness and had mercy on my youthful ignorance.” 

After six years of forced labor, one day he believed God told him to go to a ship waiting for him. He managed to escape and walk 200 miles to the coast where he boarded a ship sailing for his beloved homeland.

Frustratingly, the ship was blown off course and landed in an uninhabited area. As the crew and Patrick wandered, they ran out of food. At the request of the crew, Patrick prayed for sustenance, and they miraculously came upon a herd of wild pigs and survived. At last the ship set sail again and Patrick made it back to his shocked and overjoyed family in England.

Return Home

It took two hours to re-rail the baggage car on the cusp of the Loop high bridge, but the German vets got on their way at last. At the end of the C&S line in Silver Plume, the Argentine Central took over the C&S train with one of its Shay engines. The Argentine Central was a mining railroad also popular with summer tourists built using switchbacks to climb the side of a precipitous mountainside. The Argentine engine hauled the veterans to the top of the nearly fourteen-thousand-foot Mount McClellan offering stunning views of the surrounding valleys. 

After their brief visit, the party descended back down the mountain, rode the Loop back, and returned to Denver by starlight singing old German war songs through Clear Creek Canyon (and likely emptying those pesky 20 barrels). The Denver Post noted that the vets expressed “appreciation of the courtesy of the Argentine Central officials.” No praise for the C&S, though. Something tells me the beer incident might have spurred a few bad reviews.

While our vets, like Patrick, made it home safely, Patrick didn’t stay.

Return to Slavery

Patrick, now back home, studied to be a leader in the Jesus-following community of his home. This is where he picked up the name Patrick. Yet, he had recurring dreams, including one of an Irishman saying, “We beg you, holy boy, to come and walk again among us.” Despite resistance from both family and friends, he made the trip back to the land of his slavery, risking his life repeatedly against hostile pagan priests and Irish leaders. 

Like that trusty derailed C&S train that pressed on despite the setback, Patrick took the danger in stride and persisted in his calling, noting, “I am greatly in debt to God. He gave me such great grace, that through me, many people [in Ireland] should be born again in God and brought to full life… How has this happened in Ireland? Never before did they know of God except to serve idols and unclean things. But now, they have become the people of the Lord, and are called children of God.”

Patrick spent the rest of his life sharing the story of God coming to earth in the form of a man, Jesus, who offered reconnection with God and forgiveness for our failures through trust in His death and resurrection. Many Irish people responded to this message and found themselves filled up, not with beer, but with the love of Jesus the Savior.

Beer?

So, how did beer get attached to St. Patrick’s Day? Beats me. That’s for some other historian to figure out. It likely has something to do with the evolution of the Irish-American version of an ancient Irish holy day. But, one thing I do know is this: if you’re riding a train to the St. Patty’s Day parade, keep an eye on those sliding barrels when the train rounds a curve.

 

SG C&S coach and caboose in Nederland, CO

 Here is an oddity that I came across on a family vacation back in 1992. The town is Nederland, Colorado. It has three standard gauge cars. One is a C&S/CB&Q wooden coach and dining car. Next is a C&S caboose, and the other is a mail/circus car. 

The cars are still there serving as a coffee shop. Here is the website of Train Cars Coffee and Kava.

An article from the Mountain Ear states that the shop includes "a 1906 Pullman Coach dining car, an 1872 Union Pacific Railroad post office car, and a 1910 caboose, which survived the South Platte Flood of 1965".

I love the classic C&S Columbine herald on the window.

Clear Creek roadbed photos between bridge 703 and 705.

 Below are photos of the roadbed between bridges 703 and 705. The walking trail on the opposite side of the creek gives good access to photos of these spots. The roadbed itself can be reached by crossing the highway bridge on foot outside of the western end of Tunnel 5. Once you climb over the road/bridge wall, you can reach a walking trail intended for rock climbers (there is a small foot bridge at the beginning). After that it would take some 'off-roading' to walk to the roadbed where bridge 705 crosses to that side. I've not done it myself, but it seems feasible for the agile folks.

This segment is a little west of Forks Creek.

The photos cover the segment from the circled area in the map through to near the bridge abutments.

Above is some substantial rock cribbing above the roadbed.

Rock cribbing can be seen above the roadbed here.

A closer shot of the cribbing above the railroad grade.

Exploring Clear Creek Canyon on the C&S: Bridge No. 703 (video)

In a previous video I showed the location of Forks Creek today. In a subsequent video, I showed the site of Bridge 705, with abutments still in place. This next video shows the grade between these two points. 

In this video we explore the remains of the Colorado & Southern Railway's Clear Creek District route starting from Forks Creek and headed west toward Idaho Springs. We visit the site of bridges No. 703 and 704. While much of the roadbed is gone, one can still imagine the route of the old narrow gauge through the canyon. Later the railroad bed reappears and rock cribbing is still evident.

Concerning news about the possible move of the Pitkin depot

Justin Kerns recently informed me of a developing situation about the possible move of the Pitkin depot.

Below is the content from Facebook:

**Historic Train Depot for Sale in Pitkin! 🚂🏛️**

Attention history enthusiasts and entrepreneurs! The iconic Train Depot in the Town of Pitkin is now available for sale. This historic gem offers two purchasing options:

1. **Relocate the Depot** to a town that truly values its historical significance for **$350,000**.

2. **Acquire the entire property** for **$700,000**, using it as a residence or short term rental.

Recently, a decision was made by the Pitkin City Council to NOT rezone the Train Depot property for commercial purposes.  The possibility of establishing a charming coffee shop or a museum, inviting many tourists to appreciate the rich history of this remarkable building is off the table because of Trustee Tom Gibb and Trustee Ramon Reid.

🚨 Important Update from the Pitkin Trustee Meeting 🚨

On Feb 18 2025, the trustees discussed a critical agenda item regarding the preservation of our historic Train Depot and the proposed rezoning of the property to commercial. The decision ended in a split vote: Jerra Garitson, and Ed Pianalto voted in favor of the rezoning, while Tom Gibb and Ramon Reid voted against it.

As the new owner, I regret to inform you that this change will lead to the removal of the Train Depot, significantly altering the historic landscape of Pitkin. I had hoped to be well into the renovation process by this summer, but those plans are now on hold.

The Train Depot is not just a building; it represents a piece of Pitkin’s history. Its preservation is essential for maintaining the town's unique character and cultural heritage.

Historic properties often serve as landmarks that contribute to a community’s identity. Their removal can lead to a loss of historical context and a sense of place for residents.

The decision to rezone the Train Depot for commercial use raises questions about how it will affect local tourism. Historic sites often attract visitors, and their preservation can be a boon for local businesses.

The outcome of the trustee meeting regarding the Train Depot is a pivotal moment for Pitkin. While the decision may facilitate some commercial development, it also raises important questions about community identity, historical preservation, and the balance between growth and heritage. Exploring alternatives, and fostering open dialogue will be essential in navigating this change and ensuring that the town’s history is honored as it evolves.

Your opinions matter! If you have thoughts or concerns about this decision, please feel free to reach out to me directly. You can also contact the town clerk at thetownofpitkin@gmail.com. Trustee Ed Pianalto edpianalto@yahoo.com trustee Tom Gibb tomgibb20@gmail.com trustee Ramon reed pitkinramon@gmail.com Trustee Jerra Garetson jerragaretson@gmail.com Let’s engage in a constructive dialogue about the future of our town!

#Pitkin #HistoricPreservation #CommunityEngagement #TownMeeting