Lost Rail

There are few pieces of the Milwaukee's Western Extension that exist beyond the huge stretches of barren rights of way that run across the landscapes of the west. Small pockets do linger, like the logger operation in St. Maries, the Central Montana Railroad north of Harlowton, or the bit of mainline that still serves old shops in Miles City. But with few exceptions, the rails and ties are simply gone from the vistas of the west. In their place stand eerie bridges and concrete viaducts that loft over rivers and coulees. Spokane has a few interesting pieces that are the exception. Expo '74 did its damage to many of the structures that graced the downtown (although it did do its part to help clean-up the city), but if one looks closely, the ghosts of the Milwaukee's extension to the west are still there -- and some are still being used. To the east of downtown, behind a large Home Depot and Costco store, lie the Union Pacific Railroad yards. Trains come and go, freight ca...

The electrics had been gone for nearly 6 years, the other big and reliable diesel locomotives had been forcibly returned to points east in November of the previous year, and the harsh winter of 1979 had brutalized everything that remained. Locomotives were parked instead of fixed, the increasing burdens of the car fleet rental drained the company's pockets, and the amount of deferred maintenance to the tracks and right of way was showing itself in the slow orders and derailments. On average a train derailed somewhere on the western extension once every day. These were the Road's darkest hours. Occasional bright spots were quickly blotted out. The state of Montana's interest in purchasing the line was quickly abated by the many strings management and the lenders tied to the sale. Interest from other rail lines like Southern was documented, but came to nothing. And the traffic continued to fall, travel times continued to rise, and the company started double-counting mai...

In the winter of 1995 I stepped aboard a set of mis -matched Superliner cars and began a journey that would go on for many years. In 1995 the Capitol Limited, and other Superliner trains as well, still sported the occasional El Capitan coach as well as the standard "transition sleeper" for the crew. The locomotives being used were F40's, and the paint was faded candy striping that was slowly giving way to the more stylized blue-band with small white and red stripes. Things that have now passed into history. I remember well the trips between Pittsburgh and Mt. Pleasant, IA where I'd escape between semesters. The sunrises across the Midwestern plains were amazing. Occasionally fresh snow would be kicked into the air as we raced along at 80, turned a brilliant orange with the rising sun. Telephone poles rolled by outside the windows as we blasted through small towns that came and went, bearing only a silent testimony to our travels. In the darkness of night ...

In the warm glow of an afternoon sun, standing at a small place named Straw, MT, and knowing that it's all about to change... That's the calm before the storm, the last look at a nice summer day before it is overtaken by the fury of darkness that is quickly descending. The two silver elevators at Straw glow intensely , still lit by the sun, while the sky blackens behind them. The wind begins to rush, and the sun fades. Before the storm. The old Milwaukee line from Harlowton to Lewistown used to be right here, just in front of those elevators. It was the link that pulled the grain harvests from Central Montana down to the east-west mainline. The little elevators spread out along those windy granger lines would ship their grain south through Straw to the bigger rail of the transcon line. Early on it was trains of boxcars carrying grain, then the days of yellow hopper cars. Cars that had, "America's Resourceful Railroad" emblazoned on their sides. It wa...

Is there something magical in a name? The old world had plenty of them, places that we remember from Biblical stories where prophets foretold events of the future and the love of a fatherly god. Places where kings ruled, walls fell, and earthquakes parted the lands. These were places of the old world. As the Milwaukee Road pushed west from the Bitterroot Mountains the names that sprung up along the way hearken back to these old cities, towns, and the events of long ago. Tekoa, the Biblical home of a shepherd and prophet named Amos. Jericho, and the infamous walls of the city. Smyrna, where the church will receive "the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again." (Rev 2:8). Old world names that live on across the Western Extension, some as small towns that exist out on the farming ranges of The Palouse like Tekoa. Others as simple plots of ground along the abandoned right of way with no markers to tell their tail, like Jericho (pictured...

One of the fascinating things that the Milwaukee Road did was leave behind a loyal following of people. These people look very different from one another, live in places thousands of miles apart, have jobs that span the worldwide market, and lives that run the gauntlet from the young 'uns to the retired folk. I've written before on this effect, referring to it as the "and The Milwaukee Road" effect. It's the call that sends people traveling to a collapsing passenger station at Martinsdale or wading through tall grasses near a place called Pandora. There's a tug at the heart to go there, to experience what's left, to feel time and God's hand at work. Some of us take it even a step further. Not content to simply look at old photos or travel the abandoned trails of the Hiawathas, we rebuild what was. In the photo to the left, it's a late summer day in September 1979 and 534 switches grain at Three Forks, MT. It's just a small piece of what w...

On the high desert of Central Washington one of the last remaining stretches of Milwaukee Road mainline still runs toward the Cascade Mountains and the West Coast just as it did when laid in 1910. The 1970s images of Dead Freights in frigid cold and blowing snow roll through my mind as I stand at an old place named Corfu. Those were images captured during the last winter the Milwaukee operated here, and by all reports it was a brutal winter. Today, though, it's a brutal sun that bakes the desert country and the steel lines that still ply the landscape. Images and stories in books tell of a time when Corfu had a passenger station and was the sight of great jack-rabbit hunts. Passenger trains pulled by Bi-Polar electric engines rolled through here in the orange, red, and black colors of their owner and the nation marveled at "America's Resourceful Railroad." Then the long decline, the management mis-steps, the bankruptcy, and the brutal winter of 1979. This piece o...