Morning broke gray and damp on Friday, October 6, 2006. It had been raining in the mountains all night. We got up early and went to the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad Depot. It was early enough to get a good parking space and have a toasted onion bagel with scallion cream cheese for breakfast at a nearby bakery. It wasn’t cold enough to carry a jacket. The sun threatened to break through the overcast.
At 7:30 am we boarded the train and found our seats. A steam locomotive pulls this rolling museum. Our car was the fifth one back. It was in service during the 1800’s and was appointed with polished brass, wood, and leather. It reminded me of the rail car that Crispin Glover rode with Johnny Depp during the trip out west in “Dead Man”.
We chugged off at precisely 8:15 through Durango and soon were in the San Juan Mountain Range heading north. The tracks followed the Animas River through the woods. The aspens were brilliant against the green of the firs. We passed colorful boulders and rock faces carved from the Rocky Mountains by the twisting white water stream.
We pulled to a stop in Silverton at 11:45. It had turned cold and had started raining. Our first order of business was to buy a sweatshirt for Vanessa. Then we looked for The Pickle Barrel to have lunch. At The Pickle Barrel, I had a good salmon salad and a piece of Fruits of the Forest pie and a couple pints of Steam Engine Lager. Both pie and lager, I will declare to be among the very best I’ve tasted. The pie had a flakey crust and was filled with an exciting mixture of strawberries, rhubarb, blueberries, apples, raspberries and blackberries. The lager had overtones of toffee with a fresh clean full body surprising and refreshingly light. After lunch, we walked along Blair Street and looked through a museum. Blair Street in Silverton was a notorious red light and gambling district which catered to the surrounding mining operations during the 1800’s. Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp gambled there.
2:00 pm the train left Silverton for the return trip to Durango. The weather had turned increasingly nasty. It was colder and the drizzle had turned into a steady rain. Passengers who had taken the bus to Silverton were riding back on the train and passengers who had rode up on the second train decided to cut their stay in Silverton short due to the weather had packed aboard with the original passengers. It was a full train.
Along the banks of the Animas River, we headed back into the river canyon and mountain forest. The river had risen noticeably since morning. We saw new waterfalls along the sides of the mountains. At 3:00 the train suddenly stopped. The brakeman ran through the car and took off down the tracks behind the train. The conductor came through and told us that a fast flowing stream was over the tracks. The locomotive was in the water. The engineer backed out after several labored tries to the relief of the passengers. The train stopped after backing up about a hundred yards. We sat and received reports that a crew was being sent up the tracks with a backhoe to divert the water. We learned that the engine’s piston had been damaged by large rocks which were carried in the water. We sat and watched the rain become stronger.
The railroad crew with the backhoe arrived and determined that the rails were washed out and our only option was to return to Silverton. The locomotive was out of water to make steam. We waited while a special train carried water from Silverton to the locomotive. The rain turned into a storm. The river was rising. We sat. The concession car was doing a brisk business. A steady line of customers headed to and from using our car’s aisle as their path. The minutes dragged into hours and finally the water train arrived. It was late afternoon when the steam engine started chugging to back us into Silverton. In the waning light we passed over rails that were underwater. Suddenly the locomotive shuddered and stopped. After a time we received the conductor’s report that it had run out of water again. Out my window I saw white water plunging from the mountain sides and the Animas River becoming a fast flowing chocolate torrent. We sat. The storm whipped through the river canyon. A few souls got out of the train to smoke and stood miserable beside the tracks.
There was desperation in the faces of the train crew and passengers. Word was received that a locomotive was being sent from Silverton to pull us back to town. We sat and waited and contemplated our path to high ground should the need arise. Finally, we heard the whistle of the new locomotive and felt the lurch. It was dark when we entered Silverton. The lights of town were welcomed. The rain was still steady and it was cold. But we were out of the woods. Vanessa and I departed the train glad to be walking on ground again and headed for The Pickle Barrel for supper. We were told to be back to the train by 8:15 to either ride buses sent from Durango or find a place to spend the night in Silverton. It was snowing in the high mountain passes and there were reports of rock slides.
There was a sparse crowd at The Pickle Barrel. The restaurant had been informed that the passenger train was being forced to return and the servers were anticipating a large crowd. When we walked in shivering and wet we were given seats by the fireplace. We were the only train people that walked the extra steps to The Pickle Barrel. The rest of the folks crowded into establishments on Blair Street. But again, I had the salmon, and wonderful pie and lager. Finally warmed and full, we set off back to the train at the appointed time. When we got back to Blair Street, we received word that the buses had left Durango and were expected to arrive by 8:45. We sat on a storefront bench out of the rain. It was cold, dark and we were wet. We sat and felt like refugees out of time. Any moment a beer fueled brawl could spill out into the street with gunfire flashing in the dark. Streams formed and ran in the unpaved road. The mud reminded me of Dustin Hoffman’s drinking days in “Little Big Man”.
Around 9:00, an official told us that the buses had been held up due to problems on the mountain passes but had left Durango and should be arriving within the hour. He suggested we go sit on the train out of the weather. We soon were back in the car we had ridden in. It was a dark ice box. But it wasn’t long before the train gave four whistles announcing the buses had arrived. We packed into bus seats glad for the warmth and prospects of getting back to Durango. The driver told us that it was snowing in the passes and that rocks were strewn in the road. There were two passes at over 10,000 feet elevation and the slick, rock strewn two lane road did not have guard rails. The passengers murmured at such a cheery thought as we climbed into the sky. It was a blessing that it was dark and we could not see out the window.
It was a little before 11:00 when we got back into Durango. The passengers who had experienced this adventure together wished each other good tidings. We departed the bus and walked slightly shocked to the Explorer and left the depot for the Holiday Inn. At midnight, we gratefully slipped into a warm bed with the full knowledge that if not for the professional problem solving of the railroad men, we could still be out on the rising river.
