I remember that day very well. I was working with several others "upstream" from the crossing making sure that the way was clear to get 483 farther along toward Chama. I won't mention any names, but we were using a couple of spike pullers to try to pry an aspen tree out of the way.
One of the guys with us was leaning into a bar, and made a comment with tears streaming down his face.
"Move you son of a bitch move"
Even today, I can't think of a more appropriate or telling summary of the sometimes backbreaking effort that went into getting that first train into Chama.
To set the scenario, the highway construction crew had taken the rails up in about a dozen places so they could cut trenches which would allow drainage from the highway. So they had to come back in and install metal culverts and backfill over them, but it was up to us to replace the rails. The old rails had merely been slid out of the way, but had not been replaced by the time we came on the scene. We immediately ran into a problem when we tried to slide the rails back in place. They were all too long. Apparently, during the time the cuts were open, two years of expansion and contraction had allowed the rails to creep into the openings.
What to do? Somebody suggested hauling out the cutting torches and cutting them to fit. A spirited discussion erupted over that idea, and somebody, who had had track laying experience in west Texas solved the problem. He said they never tried to change out a rail during the hot Texas plain days. They would merely loosen up the spikes in the adjacent rails and get both rails up in the air where they would loosely install splice bars with the two rails bearing end to end. They would walk away and leave them alone overnight when the cooler temperatures would allow the rails to shrink. We tried that, and lo and hold we would come back the next weekend and all the rails were back down where the rail gods intended. Then it was merely a matter of spiking the rails down and tightening the splice bars. Eureka !!! Nothing beats experience.
Going back to the road crossing, we ran into a different problem. One of the rails was broken. You were there, Russo Loco, so you can probably add something to this story. Anyhow, another heated discussion erupted as to what to do, ranging from changing out the rail, or merely make sure that the rail was firmly spiked down on both sides of the break and merely carefully run over it until we could find time to do something else.
It was decided to change out the rail then and there. But where to get a length of rail? To this day I'm unsure where they found a length of rail, but they did after a lengthy delay.
There was a welcoming crowd arranged for the entry of 483 and her bedraggled short train and equally bedraggled crew. But it was close to dark before we got into Chama, but there was still a goodly crowd there who had stuck it out.
Another little vignette I remember was the weekend when the D&S was washed out, but that storm also did a number on the C&TS. I was conductor on a long string of cars - 24 or so, more or less, which also included two dead engines. We made it as far as the Narrows when we ran into mud slides which had come down off of the new highway. The first one we dug out by hand, but the second was just too deep and wide. So there we were. Stuck. And backing that train up back up the hill wasn't an option.
We had a "meeting" and decided that if the fire in 483 were banked, things would be under control until the next day. (By this time darkness had set it.) So person or persons unknown got themselves through the mud into Chama and organized a rescue crew of 4X4s, while somebody else, or mebbe the same person got on the phone and put in a midnight call to the NM State Highway engineer at his home and explained the situation.
The story going around was that the next morning a couple of highway engineers got nailed by the irate State Engineer at the door of the Highway Department with orders to get their butts up the Chama and get their damned road off the railroad. I mention this as I am reminded of the story every time I see those metal retaining walls in the Narrows, which were a direct result of that day's festivities.
These are merely a couple of snapshots of what we went through in a very short couple of months back in 1970.
Another little sidelight was a D&RGW trainmaster - Hubert Meek if I remember his name right. The D&RGW was convinced that the railroad would never run again. But as we started moving the cars up the line, Mr. Meek would show up in Antonito to watch what was going on. It wasn't long before Mr. Meek would show up in Antonito with his pickup loaded with stuff which he had gathered up in the Alamosa shops, to give to us, usually with a comment "You guys are going to need this". The Alemite grease guns were a good example of that.
At the end of the day, we had earned the respect of the professional railroaders, and I always will treasure that memory.
******************************************
This has gone on way beyond what I started out to write, so I hope that you will forgive me. I want to end this up with an apology ahead of time. There have been more than one occasion where I have had the occasion to chat with a FRIENDS member and listen to stories of how "they saved the railroad". That sends my blood pressure through the roof. Giving the FRIENDS their due, they have done a commendable job, but to flatly say that "they saved the railroad" is pure and unadulterated BS, and I get very testy. They don't have a clue as to what the earlier volunteers went through.
CJ
