Friday, November 24, 2017

Happy Thanksgiving! 10 Reasons to be thankful for the C&S

I'm so grateful for many things this Thanksgiving, foremost among them being my Savior, my wife, my daughters, and my country.  As always in life there are great things, but there are also small things, and these add sweetness.  The C&S is one of them. 

Below is a list of 10 random reasons, in no particular order, that I'm thankful for the Colorado & Southern Railway.

I'm thankful...


1. That so much of this tiny railroad has survived over 70 years after the last narrow gauge run.

2. For Italian stonemasons being so talented that work like the Palisades (and Ohio Pass Palisades) seem as strong in 2017 as they were in 1881.

3. For preservation groups like the South Park Rail Society, The Denver, South Park & Pacific Historical Society, the Como Depot and Hotel, the Colorado & Southern Railway Society, the Georgetown Loop, and the Leadville, Colorado & Southern.

4. For a past time that brings me a lot of joy and doesn't require any substances to do so!

5. For a past time that is both fun and enriches my knowledge.

6. For a past time that brings together people of so many ages and from so many places.

7. For a past time that is (typically) lacking in contention.  I love to talk deep issues and politics, but it's still nice to have a subject of serious interest that doesn't usually become a source of tension.

8. For the remote nature of so much of the C&S grade because it keeps a great deal of it from being gobbled up by developers.

9. For people like Ray Rossman, Dow Helmers, Richard Kindig, Mac Poor, and many others who did so much to chronicle and protect so much of the history and remains of the C&S, and, in particular, my personal favorite area: Alpine Tunnel.

10. For rock slides and ice that kept the scrapper from getting into Alpine Tunnel in 1923/1924!  Nature sure gave the old South Park a hard time, but in this case it kept a little of the railroad intact for those of us down the line!

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

C&S 1006 in 1986 - Photo 2


Photo 2: Taken by Jim Pallow.  August 1986.
Caption: "Me on right. Break from building track-getting ready for ballast."


Monday, November 20, 2017

Now & Then fade at Platte Canyon 1929-2011

I happened on this very well done 'now and then' fade based on a photo taken from the present Platte Canyon High School pool doors.  I don't really know what the fenced in thing is that we're looking at.  Maybe that is the pool??  Anyway, it's a great fade into a C&S doubleheader and then back out to the present. 

Sunday, November 19, 2017

C&S 1006 in 1986 - Photo 1

I "met" Jim Pallow via The Narrow Gauge Discussion Form.  He had discussed on one thread how he was a part of restoration work in 1986 on C&S caboose 1006 in Silver Plume.  He graciously lent me his collection of photos from that time for use on my Bogies and the Loop article on 1006's post-abandonment life and also gave me permission to use them elsewhere.  I'll be posting all 27 of them sporadically and listing the captions from the back of each photo.

Photo 1: Taken by Jim Pallow.  August 1986.
Caption: "Second from left is Tom Young; this is prior to moving the caboose."



Sunday, November 5, 2017

The Flawed Fever for Narrow Gauge

This is not a C&S-specific post, but the topic of what caused the demise of narrow gauge railways in Trains Magazine's September 2015 magazine with great interest because of a unique article entitled "Railroading's Biggest Blunders."  Dan Machalaba chronicled an unlucky 13 "faux pas that shaped the industry."  Of particular interest to me and those of us who are fascinated by the C&S, number 8 on Machalaba's list was
the US in general is quite interesting.  I read


"The Flawed Fever For Narrow Gauge."  


Here is the text of that segment:

"Narrow gauge fever swept the U.S. between 1870 and 1885.  The miles of narrow gauge lines in the country peaked in 1885 at more than 11,000, about 9 percent of American rail mileage.  For a brief time it was possible to travel by narrow gauge railroads from Ohio to Texas.

"The craze soon fizzled.

"Narrow gauge lines failed to compete with standard gauge railroads.  By 1900 most narrow gauge lines had been converted to standard gauge or abandoned.

"What happened?

"The narrow gauge movement was based on the faulty premise that small railroads (usually 3 feet between the rails) were cheaper to build and more economical to operate than standard gauge of 4 feet, 8 1/2 inches.  Proponents argued that narrow gauge lines could reduce construction costs compared with standard gauge railroads by using sharper curves, steeper grades, lighter rail, and lower-weight locomotives.

"Agricultural interests wanting cheap transportation and towns bypassed by standard gauge railroads embraced narrow gauge.  Some advocates even tried to put together a network of 3-foot-gauge railroads dubbed 'The Little Giant Line.'

"'The were like religious converts,' says Grant, the Clemson history professor.  'This was the coming
of narrow gauge.'

"The anticipated savings in capital didn't materialize.  Labor costs were similar to standard gauge.  The costs of reloading freight between narrow and standard gauge lines proved to be greater than expected.  The craze was soon over.  Narrow gauge railroads turned out to be a big waste of time and money."




Above photo from Peterson Portal

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Drone footage of the C&S right-of-way in Central City

I have long been interested in the two resurrections of the C&S railway in Central City.  I wrote an article in The Bogies and the Loop not too long ago chronicling both endeavors.  I've also written some posts about it as well including looking at C&S post abandonment mileage, a look at some 1968 shots of the first reincarnation, a look at the curious track engine used on the second reincarnation, and a look at combination car No. 20.  The article on the five remaining C&S locos also discusses these tourist routes in the history of engine 71.

But just the other day I happened on a very unique video on Youtube where someone used a drone to film the entire length of the abandoned Blackhawk and Central City Narrow Gauge Railroad right of way (as the tourist route was named in the late 1980's).  Never having had the chance to walk this old grade, the video gives a great sense of the route as it snakes around the mountainous terrain.

The video begins at the spot where No. 71 and her gondola and combine were first put on display in 1941.  The spot also served as the boarding site for the next two tourist railroads that used the grade.  Directly across the street is a parking lot that has a hill next to it.  That hill, made of mine tailings, is actually on top of the second Central City depot.  The mine tailings simply buried the building over the years.

No. 71 was moved next to a casino.  Can anyone spot it in the video?  I haven't noticed it yet.



The Rocky Mountain Flyers, who produced the video have the following as a caption: "Second run of our Litchi waypoint mission to film the rail bed of the old Black Hawk to Central City Railroad. Hopefully to become an active line again. Google Earth programmed mission, tweaked in Litchi hub, flown on Phantom 3 4K drone in the mountains of Colorado."

I would love to know what "Hopefully to become an active line again" means!

I found out that they also posted the same video again but zoomed in.


Sunday, October 22, 2017

Once Upon a Depot: The Many Lives of Georgetown Station

This article first appeared in the January 2015 edition of The Bogies and the Loop. 

Once Upon a Depot:
The many lives of Georgetown Station
by Kurt Maechner

On a warm, June day in 1939 a dusty, old trophy was finally taken off the shelf.  The high bridge, crown of the Georgetown Loop, a trophy of engineering and tourism, was pulled apart limb by limb.  As the gravediggers did their work on high, they could look down and see the once proud Georgetown depot, shuttered since 1937, decaying next to the now naked railroad ties.

And there the story may have ended.  It is unclear just what became of the depot from the last page of its railroad life to the 1950s, other than Mac Poor’s comment that it was sold for a degrading $50.  By the middle of the century, though, the likely denouement was for the building to be erased from the page by the ominous highway slated to lay asphalt right over it.  

Unlike some other C&S depots that vanished after their book was shut (such as Gunnison’s that incidentally got overrun by a highway), the station at Georgetown got itself a sequel.  Two plot twists made this possible.  The first was the dogged campaign of then mayor of Georgetown, James Grafton Rogers, to kick I-70 up the side of the valley and save “The Park.”  This saved not only the chance for steam to rise again from the resurrected Loop, but also pulled the depot out from underneath the oncoming interstate steamrollers.

The second twist in the tale is the arrival of two failed entrepreneurs.  Bill Brough and Hugh Johnson, who tried and failed at running a bus company, saw an opportunity to cash in on the growing inflow of tourists due to nearby Loveland Ski area by having a go at opening a restaurant in Georgetown.  They purchased the old station and each weekend drove in from Boulder to serve hungry skiers.

In 1953 a Nebraska native by the name of Dwight Jones bought the station and took the fledgling restaurant one step farther by completely changing the building’s image.  He gave it a Swiss chalet makeover, and christened it The Alpine Inn Restaurant. 

Just a few years later, in 1960, a principle character entered the story of the depot’s second life.  Bob Gibbs, an ambitious young man, came on board as a bartender and manager.  Just seven years later, however, he went on to buy the Inn outright from Jones, and then managed it faithfully for more than two decades.

As Bob’s life grew, so did the old station’s.  The Alpine Inn could seat 250 people and often served 400 dinners a night.  In addition, a successful hotel complex was added near the restaurant in the early 60s.    

The depot was not the only place that was changing; the town around it was changing too.  From a ski town to a national historical district, Bob saw the little valley hamlet transform.  One of the most significant changes began in the 1970s with the reconstruction of the fabled C&S line from Silver Plume to the old abutments of the high bridge above Georgetown.  The vision of reconstructing the Loop as a tourist line had finally moved from dream to reality.  In 1984, 45 years after the original was scrapped to oblivion, the resurrected bridge once again echoed the squeal of a locomotive wheel down into the valley below. 

As the trains began to chug and the decades wore on, Gibbs’ Alpine Inn continued to flourish, serving locals, skiers, tourists, and train buffs.  By the time that the 1980’s were wrapping up, however, Bob was ready to move on from the restaurant business.  It was time for someone else to write another chapter in the depot’s life.

When Bob put the old Georgetown station up for lease, Lindsey and Rosa Ashby, operators of the Georgetown Loop Railroad (GLRR), took him up on the offer and eventually purchased the building in 1995. 

The Ashbys wrote the life of a railroad back onto the page.  They built an annex on the depot as a home office for the two tourist railroads that they operated, the GLRR and the Royal Gorge Railroad.  A concession was also added to the station with a snack bar serving breakfast and light lunch, though they quickly found out that it didn’t work well.  What did work, though, was a very nice train-themed gift shop.

Most importantly, the depot returned to one of its original functions: it was once again a ticket office for train fare.  For a number of years, tourists wanting to ride the famed Loop had to pick up their tickets at the depot and then drive to Silver Plume to catch the train. 

The plot, however, didn’t stay placid for long before there was one final twist.  In the middle of the 2000s, ownership of the GLRR operations changed. 

Once the Ashbys moved out, the Georgetown depot was vacant once more.  Here is where our protagonist comes back into the story.  Bob Gibbs, who had moved from the restaurant world to realty, returned to the story of the station when he was called upon to try to sell it, which he did to the present owners. 
 
Today the old Georgetown station thrives again as a reincarnation of its food-serving life.  It was rechristened “The Alpine Restaurant and Bar,” its logo heralding its two sources of life: a train on the high bridge at the top, and a skier on the side.  The Alpine, according to its website, offers both lunch and dinner “homemade from scratch!”  In addition to cuisine, the owners host live music every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. 

According to Bob Gibbs, all the original interior station walls, though covered in modern accouterments, still proudly retain the shape of rooms that long ago served a tiny, but determined railroad in the valley.  And while tourists must drive a bit further down the road to catch the train these days, they can still stop by the old depot and listen to the whistle of a sturdy locomotive echo from the high bridge, all while enjoying food prepared by hand in historic Georgetown, Colorado.

Special thanks goes to Bob Gibbs who graciously gave of his time for several phone interviews where the majority of this information came from.  He continues to serve on the board of directors for the Georgetown Trust.

References

The Georgetown Loop: Colorado’s Scenic Wonder  By Gary Morgan.  Published by Centennial Publications. Copyright 1984.

Georgetown and the Loop By P.R. “Bob” Griswold, Richard H. Kindig, and Cynthia Trombly.  Published by the Rocky Mountain Railroad Club.  Copyright 1988.

The Denver, South Park & Pacific By M.C. Poor, Published the Rocky Mountain Railroad Club.  Copyright 1949.

Alpinerestaurantgeorgetown.com. Copyright 2014 Alpine Restaurant and Bar, Georgetown, CO.