Forgotten Memory

In the rustling tall grasses of Montana prairie the trek west continues.  The civilization of Miles City, with its offices, restaurants, and Wal-marts, briefly blotted out the empty feelings of this land - but here near MP 1140, the expanse is inescapable.  In different times, this was a place named Sheffield, but like so many other locations across the Milwaukee's West, it is now more a name with no place. 

The old corrals here certainly date back to Milwaukee times.  Feed pens and loading ramps still dot the site but it's not hard to see the general decay of decades.  In the West, some elements of the Milwaukee are simply gone, but others paint a picture larger than that of the railroad itself.  Here, the reflection painted is one of a changed culture and changed economy as well as the vanished transcon.  Like a forgotten memory that tugs at the mind but will not rise to the surface, the days of cattle by rail exist only in places like these.  The grasses are tall and the wood is old.  There's the sound of an old chain hitting a post, clanking in the soft wind.  Years ago at the end of a business day the gates were closed and the people walked away.  But like the old railroad that plied these parts, there would be no next time.  Days grow to months and then to years with the tall prairie grasses gradually taking back and obscuring the past. 

Division Points

Like its name suggests, the Trans Missouri Division of the Pacific Coast Extension crosses much of the territory defined by the large, meandering river.  1118 miles from Chicago, the Resourceful Railroad enters Miles City, MT.  In better times, it was the location of division offices with large yard and maintenance complex - the first encountered out along the PCE.  In other times, it was the original start point for the Lines West embargo of 1980.  Never far away in these parts of the plains is the old NP, the first line to strike out for the Northwest Coast.  It is still active today and lends the sounds of diesel prime movers and whistles to the local community despite the Milwaukee's lasting absence.  Below, west bound coal rolls through the eastern edge of Miles City behind a quartet of EMD products that reveal the continually changing landscape of railroading in general.

 Years ago, machinists and blacksmiths worked here in Miles City, rebuilding and maintaining the Road's fleet of coal powered steamers. Today, the yards that once sponsored these Milwaukee crews and switchers now host more modern cars bound for maintenance in the old complex.  In the 2003 picture below, early morning light glows off the sides of old rails and tank cars near the dark outline of  Milwaukee era servicing facilities.  Today the shops are owned by Transco, but can trace their history back to Trinity Rail as the sign attests.  Even the outline of the old Roundhouse is still clearly viewed, courtesy of the Transco Website.

Across the Milwaukee's West, few things were done in a small way.  Even today, 30+ years after the 1980 embargo that marked the end, the large presence of the line reminds us of what was there before.  On this sunny summer morning, the skies are a high blue and just as in years past, the shop switcher begins making its rounds.  Rail cars will be shuffled and reworked, then bound for the NP connection at the east end of town.  Unlike times of the Milwaukee Road, however, there will be no through freights calling at the yards.  The days of 500 mile inspections at Miles City are over.  There will be no first or second section of the Thunderhawk or XL Special, and there will certainly be no trains calling at the station just west of the yards.  Although tracks remain here in this little piece of the empire, they end just west of town, swallowed by prairies and big sky where the journey west continues.

Sunset on the Badlands

The journey west continues as setting sun puts a finishing touch on this day in Eastern Montana.  The journey west began near Terry, MT at MP 1080 on the Pacific Coast Extension (PCE).  Now, near MP 1105, the ball is dropping, and what had been the heat of the badlands will quickly turn to a desert cool.

The Yellowstone River has been crossed once by the time trains made their way to this location.  A second crossing at Calypso (MP 1108) lies ahead before arrival at the Division Point of Miles City. 

It is impossible to escape the enormity of things out along the old PCE.  The line runs across incredible distances of vast emptiness and the Badlands only magnify that reality.  Passing through the Yellowstone crossings emphasizes something else as well:  the enormity of what was removed so many years ago.  This was not a small back-woods logging road, or a grain line rolling through Iowa countryside.  Everything the Milwaukee did here was big and intended to last.  Though Superdomes and Columbians are relegated to photographs older than these, the railroad and its inspiring vision still dwarf travelers who pass this way. 

Scars of an Embargo

March 1, 1980:  Milwaukee's Pacific Extension embargo approved by the ICC

"On  February  25,   1980,   the   court   authorized a third embargo request by the trustee.  The Milwaukee ceased operations over a large portion of its lines (including the northern tier mainline and appurtenant trackage west of a point near Missoula, MT) effective March 1, 1980."  From "Interstate Commerce Commission Reports, CMST&P Reorganization, Docket 28640)

In the aftermath of the embargo, the scrappers would come and operations not considered as part of the new Milwaukee "Core" would be terminated.  Across the Milwaukee's West the remains of these actions are still seen, and the effects are far reaching.  Ghost towns dot the landscape, and conditions persist that promote monopoly.  There has been a legacy associated with the Milwaukee's collapse and it is not one of renewal and prosperity.

The trip west along the Milwaukee continues in the above picture, taken near Kamm, MT in 2003.  The former Northern Pacific is nearby with howling SD70s and loaded coal trains, but the Milwaukee Road is quiet as ever.  Also nearby is this old pile of discarded ties that harken to a different time and a different vision for the future.  The Pacific Coast Extension was embargoed 32 years ago and although the line slowly fades from the landscape, the scars last far longer.

Away and Westward Bound

The day is ending out in the Eastern Montana Badlands - another day is over on America's Resourceful Railroad.  Dry grasses rustle along the lineside poles that still trace the path of the Milwaukee Road here, but scavengers and scrappers have long since removed anything of industrial value.  It is July 2003 near Terry, MT and the end of rails on Milwaukee's Pacific Coast Extension.

In 2003 I first found myself out along the Milwaukee's far reaches under the big skies of Montana.  Summer days were long and the weather was hot.  Over the next five years I would return to the state several times to trace further the roots of this unforgettable, yet fading, relic of America's past.  My traveling companions were an old Suburban, a Pentax LX loaded with Fuji slide film (later replaced by a Pentax digital body), and the Man upstairs who put these travels on my heart in the first place.  The old truck and the Lord were reliable - the primary LX had occasional problems that required the use of a backup LX that was taken along 'just in case.'  Miles and years faded under foot and rolling wheel of the suburban.  Sunsets were magnificent and the scenery changed continuously from these dry scenes of Montana to the wet foliage of the Cascade Range.  

Recently, I have revisited the idea of compiling some of the best of these images, perhaps in an informal book.  Over the next several months I will present some of these here on Lost Rail, tracking the line from east to west across the three western states it left behind so many years ago.  Join me as we are off and westward bound.

Into Dust

Mainline on the Pacific Coast Extension.  It's a rare thing to find the old 112lb rail still in place, but it remains in a few scattered places across the West.  That makes this place a special one for many reasons.  It exists in the Central Washington desert and that bodes well for preservation of historical markers like this one.  Though cold winters and hot summers are common, the rain and moisture that does damage to long standing elements of man passes on this landscape.  Memories here last for a long time, and the Milwaukee mainline west of Othello is full of them.

The rails themselves reflect the electrified service of the Resourceful Railroad across the Cascade Range.  Though the overhead catenary and lineside poles are gone, the rails hold a key signature from this effort:  they are forever electrically tied together with thick metal wiring at the rail joints.  This served to create a continuous ground, or return loop, for the electrical motors that drove the BiPolars and Boxcabs out across this desolate landscape. 

Along this old line, a Milwaukee style cross-buck guards the right of way.  It represents an unmistakable older-style that still stands,  alerting traffic to trains that will no longer pass.   Type-R block signals still dot the right of way here as well, though many have become subjects of target practice.  These were placed early in the life of this line and represented some of the first signals with improved lenses for long-distance viewing.  They now stand with a vacant and haunted look, well suited for the land and the rails that still pass through.  It's a dusty and lonely part of the Resourceful Railroad, but the memories are nearer the surface here than many other places. 

The wind blows sand and dirt out here as the sage brush rustles along the rusty rail.  These are mere shadows of what came before: a sea of grays and browns along a line that knew bright orange and crimson.  It's easy to see the "dust to dust" on this mainline to the Northwest Coast, haunted by all of these marks of past glory.

Early Morning Gold

Location:  Choteau -- somewhere with big skies and big spaces.

This is Choteau, MT on a clean and clear summer morning in 2007.  Rain had passed through the night before and the built-up dirt and haze that accompanies summer had washed away.  Only unlimited ceiling and light blue remains on this start to a perfect summer day.  This corner of Montana was home to a number of railroads, and this little town hosted the Milwaukee and Great Northern lines that came up from Great Falls.  Grain poured from this little town, and others like it along these far flung branch lines, and filled Milwaukee's decrepit ribside boxcars right up to the end. 

In the quiet morning, there are a few holdovers that are worth mentioning and thinking about.  Here in Choteau, one relic is the old grain truck.  This C60 can trace its design back to 1973 when the models were refreshed as part of GM's truck redesigns.  They would be produced in similar style through the mid-80s along with related vehicles like the Suburbans and pickups.  They weren't fancy:  vinyl seats were common and the manual "wind wings" provided cooling on hot days.  The grille suggests that this could be one of the early ones, and the seemingly bent frame suggests its been doing its job for a long, long time.  Just like the worn out SDs that the Milwaukee Road rolled through here, this C60 isn't perfect but it knows its purpose and hangs on.

Other relics include the grain elevators that trace their history back to the railroads that first penetrated the lush farm country of the Golden Triangle.   Concrete silos were added later, but even these likely date to the 1950s.  All of these relics are gathered together here on a beautiful summer morning, bathed in a bit of dew and the quiet of a day that hasn't quite started yet:  the sun rises early on the northern plains.  It's morning on the Golden Triangle and, for me, the beginning of a tour through this part of the state.  Old Milwaukee towns and trestles, the GN Hi-line, and even an Empire Builder lie ahead.  It was a big day that started with a quiet collection of memories.

Peaceful Snows on a Transcon

Before taking leave from the Midwest and pursuing the abandoned transcon of the Milwaukee Road, I knew the Santa Fe's own road west quiet well.  Well, to be completely accurate, I knew the BNSF Transcon through Illinois quite well.  A decade ago there were still quiet a few traces of ATSF to be found, however.  Warbonnets were found with some regularity, some even "unpatched" and wearing their original Santa Fe numbers and heralds.

Edelstein Hill was a favorite spot of mine to watch trains roll out on the high iron.  This grade up out of the Illinois River Valley was harsh, and steepest on the line anywhere east of the western mountains.  The surrounding Midwestern landscape was typical but beautiful.  Fields of corn in the summer gave way to winter browns and then white winter snows as temperatures plummeted.  These pictures are just a few taken one winter afternoon during an Illinois snowfall. 

One of the most striking things about fresh snow fall is how quiet everything is.  Cars that pass seem to roll by with nothing but a "whoosh" sound.  Even the trains on Edelstein Hill felt more subdued that afternoon.  As I reflect on the Midwestern snows, I'm reminded of their silence and pristine beauty.  The silence of falling snow is breathtaking and often a welcome respite from the noise that surrounds us most of the time.  As we roll quickly into a new year, I hope you find times of Peace and silence to enjoy.  

 

The Years and Miles of Decembers Past

Many, many miles ago, it was a dry and hot summer in the Eastern Montana Badlands.  The land was baked in the heat of the arid day.  I had come this way to see what was left and to track the remains westbound across the state, following the old Milwaukee Road along the course laid out many years before.  It was a day about as far removed from December as possible, and yet, a day that was inexorably linked nonetheless.   

December 6, 1960 saw the Milwaukee Road file an ICC "train off" petition for it's famed Olympian Hiawatha.  There would be no more Super Domes to the Emerald City, and the remnants of the service would be cut back to Deer Lodge before a complete annulment.  There would be no more scheduled passenger service over some of the best engineered railroad on the continent, maybe the world.  The rising Saddle Mountains from the Columbia River basin, the Cascades, the Bitterroots, all would be left to the haunts of freight trains - and those only for a short while longer. 

December 19, 1977 marked the Milwaukee's final entrance into bankruptcy and one that it would never exit.  It existed as a diminishing enterprise for a couple of years following, but would leave the North Coast and Northwest it had boldly pursued 70 years before.  What followed was politics, scrappers, and the scars of America's final Transcon.  Whatever dream it was, it had come to an end and there would be no more trains over the best engineered railroad on the continent.  Maybe the world.

December days carry some tough reminders of the things that were and what's been lost.  The bleak mid-winters can carry haunts that span the years and miles -- even to a hot and sunny day out in the Montana Badlands.  Here, close to the infamous Custer Creek disaster, one of the railroad's old bridges bakes in the hot sun.  The smell of old creosote still wafts in the air and sunflowers and wild grasses keep the line company.  Come December, the flowers will be gone and the bridge will withstand another harsh winter of sub-zero temperatures and blowing snow.  Unlike the finality of the Milwaukee Road's Decembers, however, the flowers and grasses will return as the Badlands return to life. 

Thanksgiving and Nothing Could be Finer...

In the years of railroading's past, holidays and holiday meals were something of an event.  Those were curious days by today's standards:  dining cars employed chefs who cooked on stoves and ovens using fresh ingredients from along the way.  The Northern Pacific, for example, restocked dining cars with fresh fruit from Central Washington as trains made their way through.  Railroads had their own recipes that made their dining cars famous and specialties that set them apart from competitors.  Moving people was important, and the business of railroading reflected that.

The holidays had their own menus in many dining cars, reflecting the best meals for travelers who found themselves out on the rails.  For many years, even Amtrak changed its regular meal plan to offer special holiday turkey for Thanksgiving.  The picture above reflects one such holiday specialty: Alaskan Railroad Cranberry Pie.  It is a thing of beauty, and has become a tradition for our friends and family many years after it first pampered travelers in dining cars long forgotten.  To compliment this rare cranberry delicacy, a Fred Harvey apple pie is sure to round out a Thanksgiving meal.

I hope you find reason for Thanks this holiday season - and try some of your own railroad recipes if you feel so inclined.  They are a unique way to look back to times when things were just a bit different, and truly, nothing is finer than some old forgotten recipe from a diner.

Spring Creek Sunsets

 

Location:  Spring Creek Trestle, near Lewistown, MT.  2005

Big events change things quickly, but the accumulation of small changes mark the years and decades just as effectively.  The sun comes up and the sun goes down: one day leads to the next as a mix of change.

Every so often, there appears just a few years of stability when the reliability of the status quo seems unshakable.  Recently the expectation of burgeoning productivity and expansive wealth have been questioned, though for years they marked the American Dream.  Cheap energy was a hallmark of the U.S. as was its ability to manufacture products for domestic and global consumption.  For years the railroads owned the landscape and mail was always delivered by RPO car.  Today the RPO is long gone, and the unique Saturday delivery that as marked the USPS seems destined to follow it into history as well.  Many of the towns that were served by these institutions are depleted or vanished.

There was a time, during one of those periods of stability,  when a sunset along Lines West marked the end of the day across the Milwaukee's extension to the West Coast.  It foretold the dawning of another with the usual activities spread out across the system.  The coming day would see locals and patrols out along the lines exchanging grain cars in the Golden Triangle, or serving the railroads and industries of Butte.  It would be another day of pace-setting manifest trains burning miles from the big ports of the coast to the central U.S.  A day of electrified power across the mountains, of sleek passenger trains that rivaled any in the West out amidst scenery that was second to none.  There was a time when a beautiful sunset promised another day out along America's final transcon.

Today the changes have accumulated, and the perceived stability is benched in quiet abandonment.  Above, the Spring Creek Trestle bears witness to another end of day - but is listed as unusable and the lines that it connected in Lewistown are gone anyway.  One day, probably not in the distant future, it will share the same fate as all of those other institutions that litter the historical landscape.  A sunset over Spring Creek promises another day, but merely edges ever closer to an obvious conclusion.  It is always tempting to gaze at the span of only a few years and feel secure in the stability that surrounds us, yet there are quiet places that shout out the opposite is true.  A sunset on Spring Creek Trestle is one of them.

Famous Goodbyes from the Energy Crises

There was a time, now many years ago, when there was a different economic malaise, a different energy crisis, and a different set of hard choices.  For the Milwaukee Road, this energy crisis of the mid-seventies produced an interesting result:  the decision to maintain electrified operations across the Rocky Mountains through June of 1974.  The original plan had the juice turned off in 1973 so this represented a stay of execution, but not a lasting reprise.  For reasons that are not always clear, the electrification was turned off and the Milwaukee Road turned to newer diesel power for its trains across the Rockies.

Ironically, the final costs of new diesel locomotives to replace the scrapped electrics, combined with  ever increasing fuel costs of the energy crisis, cost the Milwaukee dearly.  Detailed studies of this decision, as well as original GE economic analysis can be found here.    Particularly troubling is evidence that the Milwaukee actively misrepresented operating data to make the case for electric abandonment.  Maintenance costs for locomotives were stated incorrectly, and without regard to the  rising fuel costs, electric operations were 40-60% less costly then Milwaukee diesel operations (source).

But that was all a long time ago.  When the power was cut and the wires came down, the electrification was gone and the fuel crisis soared.  It remains a memorable and regrettable goodbye from the days of the energy crisis.

The electric locomotives were replaced with a new order of SD40-2s from General Motors.  These locomotives reflected the times.  They were produced with 16 cylinder, 3000 Hp diesel engines that shed 4 cylinders and 600 horsepower from the previous SD45 locomotive design.  Fuel economy was increased and the reduced length diesel resulted in improved reliability.  These new locomotives became a mainstay of locomotive fleets across the country in general, not just within the Milwaukee Road stables. Pictured are Chicago Northwestern variants, still working hard in their third decade of service across a wintry Iowa landscape in the mid 90s.  Built on the same frame as the SD45, these locomotives have lengthy "porches" at either end.  The smaller, more efficient diesel engine allowed the shorter hood which remains not just an identifying feature, but also a small reminder of the times that produced them.

Today these SD40-2 locomotives are still found in various types of service though their numbers are falling.  Recent products from GE and Electro-Motive have added computer controls, advanced fuel delivery systems, and more horsepower without damaging the all important fuel consumption characteristics.  Many of these old locomotives now find themselves in slow speed yard service with reduced horsepower ratings.  It is a far cry from their early days when they were "the best."  Their goodbye continues after spanning the years from one energy crisis to another.

It wasn't just the railroads that experienced some motive power downsizing.  Automakers were faced with similar problems and the enormous American cars that were so popular through the 60s and early 70s began to shrink.  When Chevrolet introduced its new Impala sedan for 1977, it was truly small compared to the outgoing model.  As part of the times, Ford introduced a smaller "large" car in 1978 on the so-called Panther platform.  The Panthers would span decades, just like SD40-2.  The names  were varied, but the platform was a constant:  there was the Ford LTD which became the Crown Victoria.  Much of this sheetmetal was shared with the Mercury Grand Marquis.  Even Lincoln sold a Panther in the form of the Town Car.  Within the last few weeks, Panther production has wound down and the final Crown Victoria has rolled off the assembly line.  It has been an incredible run for a design that has spanned decades.  In the photo above, Panthers from various generations bask in the sun atop their full-length frames.

With the demise of the Panther, the U.S. no longer makes a rear wheel drive car mounted atop a full frame.  Although the design was developed during the previous energy crisis, the extra mass of the frame and overall size of the car make it difficult to meet ever tightening economy standards in this present crunch.  GM ceased production of its own body-on-frame passenger cars in 1996, leaving only the Fords as mainstays of police forces and cab companies everywhere.   Now even those are singing their own goodbye song and the days of smooth-riding American v8 passenger cars continue to fade.

These are ends of eras in many ways.  Things that were spawned in the 70s in response to the economic challenges of the times are giving away.  Time and ever increasing efficiency make locomotives like the SD40-2 or vehicles like the Crown Vic dinosaurs in a land filled with new options.  These products displaced famous faces when they debuted - from the quad headlight nose of the Little Joe, to the full size Caprice convertible, they replaced them.  Now these reminders of that previous time and previous generation are passing as well.  Their replacements carry names like Taurus or SD70ACE but it seems unlikely that these replacements will have the same staying power. 

The past few decades have seen two distinct energy crises, and spawned innumerable famous goodbyes.  Today we acknowledge just a couple more.

Historical Scars

At the peak of railroading in the United States, over 250,000 miles of track crossed the continent (source: ICC).  More than 180 Class 1 Railroads were operating by 1930 (AAR).  The next 80 years would see a dramatic reduction in these numbers, brought about through rationalization of duplicate lines, corporate mergers, and outside pressures like affordable air travel and the Interstate system.

Often left behind are remnants of these original companies and rail lines.  They exist in large cities and small towns alike.  Dearborn Station in Chicago still stands, but the multitude of railroads that used it daily are gone as are the tracks and station platforms.  Shops and a small park now take their place.  Countless abandoned grain elevators still dot small towns where tracks used to connect them.  A few still offer storage and service via trucking, but more are just silent hulks.  Large or small, these are relics of that railroading peak 80 years ago.

Between the towns and cities lie other remembrances:  the landscape scars.  They are a cut that still exists in the side of a hill, or tunnel that gapes darkly at the surroundings.  A small bridge over a little creek, or gravel atop a culvert.  Line side poles sometimes follow these scars along, although time has brought many down one way or another.  They are not always obvious - it's easy to quickly drive by these disturbances in the land without giving a second thought.  Many have also been tilled into surrounding fields or simply overcome by the vegetation that surrounds them.  Nature continually works to rework and reclaim.

The picture above is the Milwaukee Road's Pacific Coast Extension, just east of Rosalia, WA.  Here, the poles are in place and the cut in the side of the Palouse hill nicely marks the line traced out in the early 1900s.  Old tunnels and bridges abound nearby as the line sets its sights on the Bitterroot Range just to the east.   These are the historical scars that mark some part of the way things used to be.  Things weren't always better, but they were different.  From big city stations to cuts in the hillsides, they're good reminders of what went before.

Decades in the Making

The year is 2005 and a hot summer's day finds the photographer with Velvia slide film and an old Pentax camera pointed Railroad East.  The blues and greens that are captured by Fuji's high saturation  film disguise the 100 degree temperatures and hot breeze that reside in this western mountain valley.  To the left and right, the old Northern Pacific mainline to Northwest Coast enters and exits frame.  In 2005 the NP is home to the Montana Rail Link and its unique fleet of sd45s, a few remaining semaphore signals, and (as always) a close proximity to America's Resourceful Railroad.

This is Huson, MT.  Huson was located at milepost 1662.2 on the Milwaukee Road - just over 1660 miles from Chicago's Union Station.  The Milwaukee's mainline to the West Coast lies directly ahead of the camera and under foot in this 2005 photograph.  The feeder lines to the Milwaukee's network of substations and overhead DC power still mark the old right of way's northern edge, but the grade-level crossing with the NP is gone. 

In 1979, Wallace Abbey photographed this location from the back seat of a 1970s era Suburban hi-railer.  His trip began in Tacoma and journeyed east along Lines West.  The photograph below is just one of many that record the state of the Milwaukee Road main as the 1980 liquidation loomed.

More than a quarter century separate the views and much has changed, though the photos also show elements where time's influence has been less dramatic.  The mountains that form the backdrop show the same profiles and dry slopes.  The Montana blue skies are there, and even the nearby farm has many of the same buildings left in place.  Most obvious, though, are the AC power lines that mark the right of way and the old NP that still crosses the Pacific Coast Extension.  These two views of MP 1662.2 have been decades in the making. 

Special thanks to RailroadHeritage.org for use of this W. Abbey photo from their collection.   Both views are available online at their website with additional background and information: 2005  1979

All the Romance of the American Railroads

The train was slowing down.  They slid past sidings full of empty freight cars bearing names from all over the States – ‘Lackawanna,’ ‘Chesapeake and Ohio,’ ‘Lehigh Valley,’ ‘Seaboard Fruit Express,’ and the lilting ‘Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe’ -- names that held all the romance of the American railroads.

‘British Railways?’ thought Bond.  He sighed and turned his thoughts back to the present adventure.

From:  I. Fleming, Live and Let Die, 1955



It's been a long time since that unexpected piece of prose landed in the novel, Live and Let Die.  It was a romantic look at the American Railroad experience from an unexpected source, though its heartfelt poetry is undeniable.  It's easy to imagine yourself in Bond's place, rolling south along the Eastern Seaboard as those names that speak of far away places on 40 foot boxcars flick by outside.  Now, more than 55 years later, all of those names are consigned to the historical record.  In some bit of irony, the fictional character of James Bond has outlived them all.

Two pictures here show two distinctly different places and days but share the same story.  On a cold and sunny day in Bovill, ID the remnants of the Milwaukee Road's line into the forests of the Idaho Panhandle is remembered by a set of forlorn highway flashers.  The little town of Bovill itself feels tired and run down as well.  Milwaukee Road mallets used to ply the rails here, and passenger service extended from the mainline at St. Maries, serving the old logging communities.  For many years the rails to Bovill have been paved over, only recently have they been deactivated all the way from St. Maries South.

 On a blisteringly hot day, many miles removed from the cold winter winds of Bovill, an old passenger station stands in the small Kansan town of Bazine.  The side door is still clearly marked, and on the peak of the A-frame wall the old Santa Fe emblem is just legible.  A 100 degree wind howls about the old building and down the vacant streets of the small prairie town.  The main street is wide by today's standards but sized to turn the horse-drawn transportation of an era long ago.  Like Bovill, the best days are behind the small town and what's left recalls something that hasn't been seen in a long time.

The past decades have changed something.  It's something you can see in the empty towns that dot the big prairies of the west, or those forgotten logging towns of the Rocky Mountains.  It's seen in the abandoned railroad stations that cling to existence along rusty rails that used to glisten on blistering sunny days.  Where interurban lines once crisscrossed Midwestern corn fields, or where a casual rise in the ground still extends to the horizon line.  "All the romance of the American Railroads," on which Bond mused so long ago, is gone.  Although that is likely only a small piece of the overall puzzle that finds small towns vacant, jobs evaporated, and branch lines abandoned.