Pop Pop's remarks about his moonlit ride on the top of a coal car through the Royal Gorge piqued our interest, so we jumped at the chance to take a modern train ride through the gorge. Our daytime ride and the perfect springtime weather gave us beautiful views of both the natural and manmade wonders of the gorge. The gorge is so narrow that Captain Zebulon Pike concluded that it was impassable during his famous 1806 expedition. Nevertheless, a railroad was eventually cut into the gorge, to give access to the rich mining areas to the north. It was on these tracks that we rode, not on top of a pile of coal, but in a glass-domed dining car with cushioned seats. However, in order to get better views in the fresh Spring air, we eventually made our way to the open-topped observation car. We enjoyed feeling the moving air and hearing the rushing water, the occasional bird calls, and the moaning, creaking, and grinding of the train. We watched whitewater rafters as they took on the churning cold rapids below us, and admired the suspension bridge 1050 feet above us.
After our train ride was over, our next stop was Salida, CO, the scene of one of my grandfather’s sheriff encounters (see May 27 posting below). Since it was Memorial Day weekend, the town was bustling with folks participating in either the local Marathon, a bike rally, or the holiday celebration in the park. Starting at the current Sheriff’s office and detention center, we spent an hour or so searching for the old jail and train station. Several local policemen tried to help but they could only guess where the original buildings where. We found a large open area with a lot of tracks, just across the river, where the station presumably once stood. It was disappointing, but we knew we still had a lot more station stops ahead to explore. So after visiting our first RV dump site, we headed up the road, using Pop Pop’s diary as our guide:
June 3, 1922: When he {the conductor} got off we got on from the other side. At the time we didn’t know it was a mail coach or we would never have got on. After we discovered it, it was too late to get off. We were the only two that caught the train. I guess we rode along for about an hour when all of a sudden the door we were leaning {on} opened up and we rolled right into the mail car looking up into the end of a gun. The fellow smiled and put his gun away. He wanted to find out what kind of bums we were. After he did, he put us to work sorting mail for him. At Buena Vista, he got us something to eat in the station.
After we were finished, we laid down and went to sleep on some empty mail bags. We rode with him for twelve hours. Went over Tennessee Pass, the highest spot in the Rockies {for the train}. There was snow on the ground. We were very lucky to be inside at this point. The scenery was beautiful and very remarkable. The different rock formations sure did take my eye. At Grand Junction this mail clerk was to be relieved so about ten minutes before we got there he left us out the way we came in. In the mean time, somewhere along the line, some fellows had made the train. When we came out of the warmth, one of them held his hands against the outside of my sweater. The feel of it was warm to him. I imagine what we missed. Arrived at Grand Junction at 3.00 A.M. We went to the jail there for a place to sleep.
Our next stop was Buena Vista, where again we found no trace of a train station. However, we did stop to admire the “good view” of Mt. Harvard and a couple of lesser Ivy League mountains. We also went down to the Arkansas River to experience the rushing water my grandfather had written about. It was not only fast-moving, but extremely cold, thanks to the melting late-May snow. We continued on to the Tennessee Pass, (elevation 10,424 ft.), where, like Pop Pop, I also found snow on the ground in the shadows behind an abandoned and dilapidated log cabin. I then shared a handful of my unexpected discovery with an unsuspecting Aaron. We arrived at Leadville, a town that reminded me of the coal regions back east. We were too late to visit the Mining Museum, so we pressed on to reach Grand Junction, our destination for the evening.
June 3, 1922: When he {the conductor} got off we got on from the other side. At the time we didn’t know it was a mail coach or we would never have got on. After we discovered it, it was too late to get off. We were the only two that caught the train. I guess we rode along for about an hour when all of a sudden the door we were leaning {on} opened up and we rolled right into the mail car looking up into the end of a gun. The fellow smiled and put his gun away. He wanted to find out what kind of bums we were. After he did, he put us to work sorting mail for him. At Buena Vista, he got us something to eat in the station.
After we were finished, we laid down and went to sleep on some empty mail bags. We rode with him for twelve hours. Went over Tennessee Pass, the highest spot in the Rockies {for the train}. There was snow on the ground. We were very lucky to be inside at this point. The scenery was beautiful and very remarkable. The different rock formations sure did take my eye. At Grand Junction this mail clerk was to be relieved so about ten minutes before we got there he left us out the way we came in. In the mean time, somewhere along the line, some fellows had made the train. When we came out of the warmth, one of them held his hands against the outside of my sweater. The feel of it was warm to him. I imagine what we missed. Arrived at Grand Junction at 3.00 A.M. We went to the jail there for a place to sleep.
Our next stop was Buena Vista, where again we found no trace of a train station. However, we did stop to admire the “good view” of Mt. Harvard and a couple of lesser Ivy League mountains. We also went down to the Arkansas River to experience the rushing water my grandfather had written about. It was not only fast-moving, but extremely cold, thanks to the melting late-May snow. We continued on to the Tennessee Pass, (elevation 10,424 ft.), where, like Pop Pop, I also found snow on the ground in the shadows behind an abandoned and dilapidated log cabin. I then shared a handful of my unexpected discovery with an unsuspecting Aaron. We arrived at Leadville, a town that reminded me of the coal regions back east. We were too late to visit the Mining Museum, so we pressed on to reach Grand Junction, our destination for the evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment