Magma Railroad

ranchers. Once or twice a year now a carload of new automobiles arrives as a through shipment from Detroitand when it does that's news.

In recent times it has been a good year if the balance sheet reflected figures near the break-even point. Annual profits of $20, $29 and $40 have been hailed as cause for deep satisfaction. Since ownership of the railroad is controlled by the Magma Copper Co., and the railroad is essential to its operation, profits-if any-from the road are not always a prime consideration. However, the development of the new San Manuel mine, a subsidiary of Magma Copper, in southeastern Pinal County, gave the railroad a healthy shot in the arm. Through four years up to the fall of 1957 the timbers for San Manuel came in by rail to the Superior plant where they were treated, then reshipped.

Nowadays, the railroad has no rolling stock of its own other than caboose No. 101 and cars are supplied by the S.P. Locomotive No. 6, still in service, was bought along with four boxcars and a flatcar from the old El Paso & Southwestern in the road's early years. It was once the custom to let these cars travel some other rails when carrying outbound freight, but the story is told that two such cars disappeared and were gone many months before they were located somewhere in Maine. Finally, after a long time, the strays came home, empty. Since that incident the Magma Arizona has shown slight interest in adding to its car roster.

Books have been written about the casualness of shortline railroading and the Magma Arizona is no excерtion in this respect. A printed timetable hasn't been issued in 15 years. Adherence to schedule, save for time of early morning departure from Superior, is nobody's worry. President Sarver is general manager, superintendent, trainmaster, purchasing agent and public relations officer rolled into one. "I have more titles that don't mean anything than anyone around here," he remarks.

shortline railroading and the Magma Arizona is no excерtion in this respect. A printed timetable hasn't been issued in 15 years. Adherence to schedule, save for time of early morning departure from Superior, is nobody's worry. President Sarver is general manager, superintendent, trainmaster, purchasing agent and public relations officer rolled into one. "I have more titles that don't mean anything than anyone around here," he remarks.

Mr. Sarver started with the copper company 43 years ago as a mucker at $2.75 a day and has divided his time with the railroad since 1948. He talks of retiring, but, like his engines, there's a lot of usefulness left.

Something keeps these railroaders young in spirit and active. Another example to suport this conjecture is W. A. Deal, who, at the age of 82, made his final run as fireman on the Magma Arizona several years ago and retired to live in Tempe. His career on the rails began 50 years ago on the Maricopa, Phoenix & Salt River Valley, but he took time out for other work until he came to Superior as locomotive engineer 16 years ago. When in his 70's he decided to surrender the throttle to a younger man and moved over to the left side as fireman. The agility of this octogenarian when he clambered from gangway to tender top was enough to shame many men half his age. Until he retired Fireman Deal was thought to be the oldest active engine crewman in the United States.

Altitude of Superior is 2738 feet and Magma is 1590 feet. Around curves and across wooden trestles the rail-1100 feet into the flatlands in the first 15 miles out of Superior. This portion of the line, with its groves of saguaro and the pink walls of the Superstition Mountains for backdrop, is a favorite with rail photographers. A county road passes near the track part of the distance through this section and trainmen have grown accustomed to being followed by cars with out-of-state license plates and bearing eager shutterbugs.

The first "station" out of Superior is Queen; the next and only other one one is Desert Wells near the beginning of the straight track on the level land to Magma. Both stops have water tanks and there is a siding at Queen. From Desert Wells back to Superior, 16 miles, a six-inch pipeline parallels the railroad, giving mine and Superior an auxiliary water supply from the Desert Wells pumps during dry spells. There are no station buildings other than the freight office and warehouse at the Superior terminal.

Through most of the year Queen Creek, along which the line runs to reach the flat country, is a harmless dry wash, but its rampages are notorious. A few years ago an August flash flood took out the long trestle just east of Queen tank and it was restored only after heavy expenditure. In the fall of 1957 the railroad was out of commission for two weeks after a freshet damaged a trestle over one of the Queen Creek tributaries.

The three-stall engine shed and shops adjoin the smelter. Most shortlines, now that steam locomotives are no longer manufactured in the United States, have great difficulty in getting repair parts. Often Canada and Germany are the only source for these supplies. This situation gives the Magma Arizona no concern whatever, as the shops have the patterns for the parts and are equipped to produce them.

Of the three locomotives, No. 5 is the work horse and pride of the line. It was purchased new from Brooks Works of American Locomotive in 1923 and regularly pulls the freight on the tri-weekly trip. No. 6, previously referred to, is a smaller Baldwin and switches between smelter and mine on no-train days. No. 7, also a Baldwin, was acquired in 1953 from a Louisiana logging road to supply standby power. Need for its service is infrequent. All three locomotives shine with copper paint on their smoke boxes.

The mine lies well up on the foothills of Apache Leap, 500 feet higher than the smelter, and in the mile and a half between the two points are the toughest grades. Attaining the heights of those mountain ramparts by rail in so short a distance is accomplished by a switchback over which the locomotive, usually at the head of two loads, climbs one leg of the zig-zag, then backs upward to the mine entrance. When more than three loads are to be hauled the switchback is "doubled," the engine going back for a second cut of cars. Timbers go up and ore comes down.

The mine began as the Silver Queen and in the latter part of the 19th century was known mainly for its silver - silver that somehow never seemed to materialize. Over a span of thirty years no more than fifty tons of ore had been taken out. It was not until 1912 when the property passed to the hands of George Gunn and Col. William Boyce Thompson that the value of the vast copper reserves was suspected. From then on the elusive silver was incidental or forgotten. In those days the nearest smelter was at Hayden, 70 miles by road and rail, and Florence was the closest rail point. Ore was freighted to the railroad in heavy wagons and trailers drawn by eightmule teams over a rutty desert road. It was a slow and costly process.

In 1915 a concentrator was erected at the mine and that fall a narrow gauge railroad which was forerunner of the present line was built to connect with what was then the Arizona Eastern at Magma. Concentrates still went to the Hayden smelter, but the three-foot slim gauge was a decided improvement over the freight wagons and their mules.

About the time of World War I the narrow gauge was a busy pike. It owned four locomotives and in addition to ore and freight cars had two coaches, one of which was a combination baggage car. Regularly scheduled passenger service was offered.

By the early 1920's the mine was a copper bonanza. Gunn had long sin since died and Col. Thompson was in full control. Production was booming in such a way that something had to be done to overcome the transportation bottleneck and smelting problems. This was solved in 1922-23 by the building of the Superior smelter, almost on the mine doorstep. Dependence upon the Hayden smelter was over.

Coincident with the erection of the new plant was the reconstruction of the railroad as a standard gauge line, eliminating the need for transfer of freight between smaller and larger cars at Magma. The mine and smelter were now the originating point for through shipments and Superior had the advantage of being accessible by the cars of all roads.

The original narrow gauge right-of-way in the rugged section west of Superior lay close to the Queen Creek wash. There were few fills and little by way of ballast. Nature had supplied an ideal route-that is, if Queen Creek could have been trusted. Torrents did come, all too often, and the narrow gauge was washed out time and again. When standard gauging was undertaken the track was entirely relocated, safe up on the mountainside, cuts were excavated, arroyos bridged and danger from washouts reduced. Today but slight trace of the narrow gauge roadbed remains.

The Pullman comfort of plush and varnish seldom reached Magma Arizona rails, but when it came it was luxurious. This was when Col. Thompson traveled to Superior in his private car, the "Adler." It was well staffed and well stocked and was cause for hushed comment and curiosity while spotted on the sidetrack near the station. Once, in 1928, a special train of Pullmans from Los Angeles brought chamber of commerce excursionists, yet through much of the time such diverting influences were far between.

Only now, with the arrival of the Diesel Age, has this railroad become glamorous as defiant proof of everything the editorial writer said about the steam locomotive.

The Back Road from Jerome to Williams By Ed Ellinger

Scratch the average tourist and you will often find an inexplicable duality. He is a being of varying moods and inclinations. At times we visualize him as an elflike character scurrying over a countryside of concrete expanse, at ease in the car of tomorrow. The automatic pilot is set for its destination and our tourist friend lounges under his plastic vista-dome scanning the latest report on space travel. At other times we think of our mythical tourist as a different type of being.

He is robust, genial and unhurried. He is interested and curious about everything he sees and the earthbound people he meets along the way.

If you are in the latter frame of mind, you may be interested in a leisurely trip my wife and I made through the Arizona back country.

Our trip started at Jerome, Arizona, and headed northwest over fifty miles of winding road which deposited us at Williams on U.S. 66 about six hours later.

Guess it wouldn't have happened at all except we wandered into a gift shop in Jerome, where the owner, George McMillan, was showing some time-worn photo-graphs to a few friends. We joined the circle and learned a lot about Mr. McMillan and the road from Jerome to Williams. In fact, the first ten miles of the present road were built right over the roadbed of the old Verde and Pacific Railroad, a narrow-gauge line that once ran from Jerome to Jerome Junction, twenty-five miles to the northwest. The railroad delivered supplies to the United Verde Copper Company in Jerome and hauled out valu-able copper bullion. From 1900 to 1913, when they dis-continued the line, Mr. McMillan ran the oil-burning locomotive of that very line. He was called "the white-collared engineer" because he always wore one with a neat bow tie. He showed us the pictures of the train crew. Sure enough, there he was leaning out of the locomotive cab, bow tie and all. Mr. McMillan came to Arizona in 1899 because he had asthma. The doctors back in Springfield, Illinois, where he was born, suggested a dry climate after other treatments had failed. So Mr. McMillan came out west and took the job of engineer on the Verde and Pacific. The athma persisted although it was a lot less severe than in damper climates. All went well until one fine day in 1913 when someone threw the wrong switch. The engine plunged down an embankment and Mr. McMillan landed on the back of his neck forty feet from the wreck. He spent weeks in the hospital and when he was finally dis-charged he noticed a strange phenomenon-no asthma. Apparently the accident had adjusted a kink in his spinal column. Of course, Mr. McMillan doesn't recom-mend this treatment for everyone, but it sure worked for him. We asked Mr. McMillan about the condition of the road continuing on up to Williams. He was strong in his recommendation. It sounded like fun to us, so we decided to "hit the trail." The road starts its twists and turns immediately upon leaving the ghost city of Jerome. It winds through the old abandoned slag pits, up over the rounded hills which surround the deserted mines. At several vantage points we stopped to take pictures looking back toward Jerome and then north in the direction of the clearly visible San Francisco Peaks, which tower above Flagstaff 12,000 feet above sea level. The road is narrow in spots but easily passable all the way for any passenger car. After about seven miles of the winding variety we gradually start a slow descent into the wide plains of open grazing land dotted with clumps of cedar and juniper. The cattle which raise their heads to stare in silent curiosity belong to the Perkins family, who have their ranch headquarters on up the line at Perkinsville right at a side entrance to Sycamore Canyon. The Per-