Re: Gunnison Relics

RW,
Frank Wright was your grandpa's fireman on that last run to Ouray. Frank was engineer on 268 on the last run to Sapinero. Frank told me he was transferred to Grand Junction in 1935 and from then on when he ran out of Gunnison he was bused there from Grand Junction. He worked GJ to Helper and GJ to Bond, the North Fork Branch to Somerset, the Aspen branch, GJ to Montrose. He worked a lot with your grand father. Frank's last job was running the GJ hump engine and he got me a ride in it in 1975.

Frank wrote an article for the D&RGW Greenlight employee newspaper.....

The Final Run of Engine 268

On the 27th day of September, 1954, I was called at Grand Junction to deadhead to Gunnison, Colorado for service as engineer the next day: September 28th. I was told that Oscar Doyle was to be my fireman, and that this was to be a cleanup trip to Sapinero.
I realized that this was the last trip that I would ever make on the 268 and also the last one that I would ever make on the narrow gauge, so it was with a touch of sadness that Oscar Doyle and I made our way to Gunnison, where we both had begun our railroad career, many years ago for me, and quite a few for Oscar. Little did we realize in thos years that we would make the last trip west out of Gunnison and live to see the day when there would be no rails all the way from Salida to Montrose.
I had previously made the last trip east out of Montrose with Engineer W.P. Price on the 456, also the last trip out of Ouray, Colorado, with engineer C.L. Braswell on the 318, so in a way it was not a new experience for me but a rather sad one at that. An amusing indident occured on the trip out of Ouray. All of you railroaders have heard about tonnage-hungry conductors that take everything in town except the depot. Well, on this trip, we took the depot. You see a few years befor the depot at Ouray had burned down and they had an outfit car spurred out for a depot, and we took it along too.

To get along with my story, we arrived at Gunnison and were called for 6:00 AM on September 28. Our train crew consisted of Conductor Ted McDowell, rear brakeman Willaim (Shorty) Dean and head brakeman Art Waldero. Also alon with us was Division Mechanical Foreman Ekstrom, Roundhouse Foreman Bob Lutkiewitz and Roadmaster Chappel, also a lot of photographers.

Standing on the cinder pit at Gunnison was the 268, the last of fifty of these little consolidated engines bought in the 1880's by the Rio Grande and still in service and ready to go. Truly a Cinderalla engine, she had seen service at the Chicago World's Fair and was also a movie star and this trip she well deserved, a fitting climax to her career.
I climbed in the cab, got the oil can and a piece of waste and, in railroad parlance "oiled her around" while Oscar did his part of the job. Our preliminary work finished, we backed onto the caboose and headed west across the twin bridges of the famous Gunnison River, which we will follow closely most of the way to Sapinero. We cross it again at the "three mile" bridge and it leaves us for a while as we cut across the meadows to the old siding at Hierro, then we are on the river bank again through Hierro Canyon, stealing a glance at the river every once in a while as we pass some of our favorite fishing holes, and watching as the river wages it continous battle against the confining granite walls. Then Iola, a stock loading and ore shipping point where that bunch of cow pokes of hte Powderhorn Pool could load more livestock in less time than any place I have ever loaded cattle. They usually rode the last steer up the chutes, sliding off at the car door and yelling for another car.
On past Kezar, long since torn up, past the fishing cabins at Trout Haven, Mile Post 303, and on to Elk Creek, where we fill the tank with water as we do not know just how much we will need and this will be our last chance until we arrive here going back.

Bpb Ekstrom is riding with us and is having the time of his life. He keeps saying "I wouldn't have missed this trip for anything," and it is beautiful, as the leaves have started to turn and the hills are a riot of colors.

The next siding is Cebolla, site of the famous resort founded by that southern gentleman, J.J. Carpenter, and we used to unload fishermen here by the carload from all over the United States, some of whom would stay for a week or month. This is Mile Post 307. At 308, the west end of the curve, we pass the spot where Engineer Oscar Nelson and Fireman Joe Luce were killed in a terrible wreck about 1906, I believe. On down the canyon a ways and across the Red Creek bridge, where Lou Lathrop lost a fireman in the early days; then Mile Post 311, where that grand old Engineer, Jap Littser, and Jarvis Edwards turned the 167 over and Jap lost a leg and worked no more on his beloved engine; around the blind curve at Mile Post 313, where Owen Cady and D.W. Richardson hit a rock and turned the 424 over in the river--Richardson lost his life, Cady never worked again and the 424 was totally demolished.

Those seven miles between Cebolla and Sapinero have claimed five lives that I can remember, but the 268 is drifting along nicely and my hopes are that nothing will occur to blight the memories of this trip as we glide across the Soap Creek bridge and arrive at Sapinero and rail's end. Sapinero, the east end of the mighty Black Canyon, named after a famous Ute Indian Chief, and a shipping point where millions of sheep have been loaded and unloaded off the narrow gauge cars, sheep that have wintered on the Utah desert, dropped their lambs on the lambing grounds around Sapinero, grew big and fat in the high country and reloaded in the fall when the lambs were shipped to market and the old ewes were returned to the desert.

We all knew the shippers: Henry Revoir, Emmet Elizondo, Jim and William Fitzpatrick, F.D. Carpenter, Charles Lapham, August Nicholas--all fine mine and all gone to their last camp except Emmet Elizondo.

Sapinero was also the turning point for the Lake City Branch, which joined the mine line about one and one-half miles west of town, and in the old days, Pete Ready and engine 34 were familiar sights around the depot, also Ed Lampert and Phil Pickett and Hugh Gallagher put in lots of time here. Sapinero is also the scene of an indicent that I have not mentioned many times. Way back in 1916, I was firing for Charley Stewart out of Cimarron on engine 421 and we used to double head trains from Cimarron to Gunnison and return to Cimarron light; well, Charley was a drinking man and Cimarron was dry, but there was a saloon at Sapinero run by an old codger named John Chapman, and on this trip Charley decided we needed a drink on our return trip from Gunnison, so we stopped and went over to see John. Charley bought one and I returned the favor, but that was enough for me so I strolled around the room looking at the pictures while Charley and John visited and had another drink. I heard the 421 exhaust a couple of times so I looked out to see what was coming off and I guess she had become tired of waiting for us, for she was heading down the track for Cimarron going a little faster all the time. I tore out after her and caught up about 300 yards down the track. I was lots faster on my feet in those days and I have never left an engine alone since unless I knew it was securely tied down, and needless to say we did not mention the matter to anyone.

But I am drifting away from my story about the 268, so to get back; We cut the caboose off between the switches on the wye, turned the 268 on the wye, and backed onto the caboose again and we are now headed east. We back the caboose down the main line, pick up the empty box cars off of the passing track and old house track, 26 in all, then while I oil around again and Oscar fixes up his fire and cleans his ash pans, Bob Ekstrom and his helpers re-fill the sandbox out of an extra supply we have along as the track is overgrown with weeds and grass and the 268 has a hard time holding the rail. A few words with the conductor, who tells me that we have a little over tonnage for the 268, but I think she will take them so we whistle off and I open the throttle and sanders, wave at the photographers and we take off.

I soon find out that is a grand little engine and I start working the reverse lever up, shortening the cutoff and widening on the throttle and by the time we cross the Soap Creek bridge we are doing our stuff, two holes on the reverse lever, a full throttle, a feather on her dome--Oscar is a good fireman I know--plenty of water, nothing to worry about, just a look-out for rocks and roll along. Many times I have traveled over these rails, both on the end of a scoop shovel and with my hand on the throttle, but this will be the last, and memories of by-gone days and men keep crowding in--Pittser, Poter, hazelhurst, Rusk, "Posey" Kroll, Cowan, Lathrop, Freeman, "Humpy" Campbell, Hordstrom the "terrible Swede," Dutch Henry Kroll--I haven't space to name them all, but all of them have run this same little engine over this same route in by-gone days.
The trip back to Gunnison was uneventful, the 268 handled the train nicely all the way and I can't help thinking what a wonderful piece of machinery she is and how she is still useful after all the years of service behind her, think of all the engines she has outlasted--the 300's, the 400's, the old 450 to 464 (Mudhens to us), the sport model 470's, the 480's, the sleek Ping Pong 700's, the mighty 3600 mallets and 3400 compounds, the 1100's, and 1200's, and a lot more all gone to the scrap pile and here is the little 268 still doing her stuff.

We gather up some loose ends in Gunnison and make up a train for the east and finally Shorty Dean throws the switch to the roundhouse, gives us the thumbs-up sign and we roll back to the cinder pit, shut off the throttle, open the cylinder cocks, put the reverse lever on center and shut off the lubricator, get down on the ground and step back away for a last look at a grand little engine.

So when you gaze at the 268, do so with admiration and respect, for to the few of us "narrow gauge" men that are left, she recalls a lot of memories and a way of life in those gulden years that are gone forever more.

Frank Wright

Engineer Frank Wright running 268 on the last run to Sapinero.