THE WHITE MOUNTAIN SCENIC RAILROAD

the story of THE LITTLE TRAIN THAT COULD The White Mountain SCENIC RAILROAD

The White Mountains of Arizona are many things to many people. To Phoenicians, the high forest represents a cool, green summer retreat where the silence of the pines absorbs the tension and drive of city life. The sportsman finds an earthly paradise of elk, bear, deer, turkey, and sparkling streams alive with rainbow trout. The lumberman sees one of America's finest stands of Ponderosa pine to be cut and sawed and sold for profit. For the forester, the mountains are a living heritage to protect and nourish. For centuries, the reddish earth studded with black malapai rock, shaded by pine and covered with native grasses, has been home to the Apache.

Each man has his own way of seeing and appreciating and using the face of a country. The sheepherder feels to his bone-marrow the ground he walks on; the prowling hunter discovers its hidden canyons and rivers.he cowboy refuses to acknowledge the ambulatory value of anything but a sure-footed, long-winded pony. And to an old railroader, no conveyance yet invented by God or man could ever replace the joy of leaning out of the cab of a steam locomotive, fresh wind blowing his cheeks red, open throttle and clear tracks ahead.

Reed Hatch, president of the White Mountain Scenic Railway, told me that the main objective in opening this new venture was to preserve for the American public a run on a steam engine. “I guess a steam engine is the closest thing to being alive of any inanimate thing I know.” He said it in the same reverent tone I have heard cowmen use, talking about some old pony who put in a good life's work for them.

In the United States, diesels have almost entirely replaced steam locomotives. Only about 100 steam locomotives remain in service and there are only five regular runs left. One of them is in Superior, Arizona, where they haul freight for the Magma Copper Company. Another is in Colorado, on the old narrow gauge railroad which runs from Durango to Silverton. After many years of wishful speculation, Reed Hatch went to Durango in 1960 and was convinced that such a run could be profitable as well as interesting. A partnership was formed between Reed Hatch, a storekeeper from the little Mormon town of Taylor, Jay Hatch, who owns and operates a dairy, and Drew Shumway, an insurance agent from Holbrook. Local eyebrows were raised in Holbrook, Taylor, Pinetop and McNary. How could these men possibly make a “go” of it? The cost of operating a steam locomotive is staggering. Besides the initial expense of the three locomotives and five cars and the transportation fees to McNary, the minimum cost of operation would run close to $600.00 per day, not counting major repairs, derailments, fires or other damage. The insurance alone amounts to $9,000.00 a year.

The owners happily ignored the prophets of doom and began operation of the White Mountain Scenic Railroad on June 26, 1965. The train runs on a logging track used by the Apache Railway and is leased annually from the Apache Tribe. Since Southwest Lumber Company runs their trains between Maverick and McNary in the evening and at night, the Scenic Railroad is able to operate all day, every day.

The first day's run began with 322 passengers on the edge of their respective seats in anticipation of the first chug-chug-chug that drove the pistons that drove the wheels that drove the train out of its station in McNary. “Dignitaries,” relatives and friends of the train crew were invited aboard for that historic occasion. Lew Calhoon, an old Apache Railway man, was engineer, Reed Hatch was fireman, Carl Purkins was conductor, and a number of ubiquitous small boys served in self-appointed capacities. Chills ran simultaneously up the spines of 322 human beings as the engine seemed to tremble, draw in its breath, then let loose with a long, proud, lonely “Whoooooeee!” the evocative bellow of a steam engine.

And away it chugged, out of the man-made lumbering town of McNary, with its smoke and shacks and machinery and hot smell of sawed lumber, up into the high country of silent spruce, fir, pine and aspen on the Fort Apache Indian Reservation. A tiny round boy squealed in total delight with this noise so new to him. A white-haired lady listened with fond memories turning up the corners of her mouth. Reporters and photographers roamed the lurching cars, talking and joking with the crew. Young boys and girls appeared in an endless cavalcade of Hershey bars, peanuts and cans of Coke and root beer. A little blonde girl across the aisle told her mother, “This is just like 'The Little Train That Could' in my book!”

The exhilaration and frenzied excitement of traveling at the breakneck speed of twelve miles per hour up to Big Cienega must be akin to the feelings of early passengers aboard the Union Pacific Railroad in the 1870's, who crossed the vastness of the Continental United States at an average speed of twenty-two miles per hour.

PHOTOGRAPHS

When we broke out into the open grasslands of Big Cienega, where Apache herefords grazed and the wind blew free and cold, we could see smoke rising from the campfires at Apache Springs on the fringe of the clearing. I suppose nothing in the world stirs an appetite like the smell of beef barbecuing and coffee brewing on an open fire under the pine trees, with a stiff wind behind your back to increase your hunger and hurry your steps. We filled our plates with the beef and beans, slaw and hot rolls, our cups with steaming coffee, and sat in the sun on fallen logs to enjoy our leisure.

That first day there were speeches by politicians and Indian leaders, "Tumblin' Tumbleweeds" and other cowboy ballads sung and played by a deputy sheriff, and recitations by Milo Wiltbank, the cowboy poet of the White Mountains: "Why don't you come up here with me, Camp in the shade of an old pine tree, Pitch your tent by a gurgling stream, Sit in the sun and rest and dream? You'll enjoy your idle hours Here in the land of grass and flowers, Here in the old White Mountains."

Hicky? Sure, it was. And wonderful. It reminded me of nothing in the world as much as an old-fashioned Fourth of July picnic, with the steam locomotive supplying the fireworks. Three Apache cowboys rode up, tied their ponies and backed up against pine trees to eat their chuck, and talk in their low fluid tones. The kids were rounded up out of the woods where they had been running gloriously wild and food-smeared. The whistle hooted and the passengers walked the ties back to No. 100 for the return trip.

We stopped at a beaver dam for more picture-taking, exploring and leg-stretching. After a day in the sun and wind, kids were stretched out in the seats, heads in laps, soundly and peacefully sleeping, while the grown-ups who weren't nodding themselves watched for a glimpse of turkey, deer and elk, often seen along the tracks. This year's schedule of the White Mountain Scenic Railroad begins on Memorial Day and ends Labor Day. The train will run every day except Sunday, which is reserved for special excursions. The train leaves the depot at McNary at 9:00 a.m. and returns about 3:00 p.m. Hot meals will probably be served and the price of the tickets will be $4.95 for children and $6.95 for adults, including lunch at Apache Springs. Last year the White Mountain Recreation Enterprise of the Apache Tribe served box lunches and sandwiches. The train can accommodate 400 passengers.

FOLLOWING PANEL “Scenic Train Through The Forest” M. PAUL JARRETT

With the solemn excitement of Indian children, they enjoyed the day and afterward sent a “thank-you” note signed by each and every one of them. Reed Hatch and Drew Shumway found their first steam locomotive, No. 100, in the Santa Maria Valley of California, where it was performing the humble, ifuseful, task of hauling cabbages. From the Mother Lode country at Jamestown, California, the other two were acquired. No. 36 had hauled freight and excursion trains from Oakdale to Tuolomne City for twenty-five years. From their obscure beginnings, these engines were towed 1,000 miles to the realm of glory which awaited them in the White Mountains. What is so special about a noisy, exasperating steam engine? For one thing, the development of the steam engine in the 1700's marked the beginning of modern industry. Hero, an Egyptian scientist, in 120 B.C. described the first known steam engine. However, the energy of expanding steam was not harnessed to useful work until the 17th century when two Englishmen, Savery and Newcomen, invented steam engines to pump the water from mines. James Watt felt that too much time, fuel and steam were being wasted in these early engines, so he invented a double-action cylinder in which steam was used first on one side, then the other, to push the piston backwards and forwards. Steam locomotives are complex mechanisms containing thousands of delicate parts. The main parts are the frame, firebox, boiler, cylinders, pistons, piston rods, wheels, headlight, bell and a cab. A tender carries the fuel and water which produce the steam. The boiler is a long cylinder of steel with a firebox at the rear and a smokebox at the front. Flues carry the smoke, heat and gas from the firebox to the smokebox. The water absorbs heat from these flues and is changed into steam. Every steam engine has a furnace that burns wood, oil, coal or other fuel, and a boiler in which the water is changed to steam. The energy of expansion inside the boiler is used to push the pistons. Crankshafts attached to the ends of the pistons turn the wheels.

RAILROADS from page 5 UP GRADE AND DOWN HILL OVER FIELD AND MEADOW THROUGH FORESTS OF TOWERING PONDEROSAS, BLUE SPRUCE AND GROVES OF QUAKING ASPEN

When I asked Mr. Hatch what the biggest problem the owners of the railroad have, he said, “Just keeping the engine running.” The Apaches maintain the roadway, which consists of the land, bridges, embankments, ballast under the tracks, crossties, tie plates and rails. The steepest grade in the United States on a main line is 4.7%, or nearly five feet in 100, on the Southern Railway in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The steepest grade on the Apache Railway is almost 6%. The grade is so steep that it is necessary to brake all the way down.

According to John R. Fish, the Apache Railway was organized about 1916 by Tom Pollack of Flagstaff, one of Arizona's richest and most prominent men, who had sheep, cattle, coal and lumber interests. With the assistance of the Santa Fe Railroad, who were anxious to have a steady supply of crossties for their operations, he bought the sawmill at Cooley (later called McNary) and built a railroad seventy-two miles long from the railhead at Holbrook to his lumber mill at Cooley. In 1923, JamesMcNary and his partners bought out Tom Pollack, imported 500 experienced laborers from their company in Louisiana and founded the company town of McNary. By 1946, a new railroad had been built connecting the logging terminus of Maverick, 8,000 feet high in the backwoods, with the sawmill operation at McNary. Over this beautiful track tower the lofty peaks of Mt. Baldy and Mt. Ord. The railroad passes over two points 9,200 feet high. During the winter, when snow lies fifteen to twenty feet deep, logging and railroad operations are suspended.

Building a railroad in those earlier days was not easy. In September, 1916, about 160 head of mules and horses were shipped to Holbrook, where a dining room, kitchen and tents to house 150 men were assembled. The camp moved about six to eight miles each move and it took a day to set up camp. The railroad building progressed at the rate of about seven miles a month, depending on the weather. Feed for the mules and supplies for the men came by wagon from Holbrook, Snowflake or Show Low.

At first the old locomotives were poorly equipped. Two firemen were on each engine, one shoveling, the other keeping the steam up. John Fish remembers, "As fast as you would put it in, it would go out the side." The tubes were so bad that the water leaked out and smothered the fire. And there were human conflicts as well. Once, near Dagg's Lake, the train came to an abrupt halt. The men got out to see what the trouble was. Mr. Baird had purchased the land and was not allowing any confounded train to cross his country until the contract was changed. Tom Pollack, who was on board, had to give Mr. Baird his personal check before the barricades were removed and the shotguns lowered. One winter night when Fish was hostling engines at Cooley, he got out to close the switch. The lever was so stiff that it swung around, breaking his lantern. The engineer could see no signal, thought he was back on board, and pulled away without him. Fish had to walk the ties all night to get back to Cooley.

Most steam locomotives have three or four pairs of driving wheels. Side rods connect the driving wheels so the pistons will exert power equally on all the wheels. Pilot wheels help guide engines around curves. Locomotives are known by the number and arrangement of wheels. Different types were developed to meet special conditions of climate and topography. Thus, No. 100 is a Baldwin 2-8-2 and No. 36 is a Mikado 2-8-2, for pulling heavy loads up steep grades rather than for speed.

In Dennison, Texas, Reed Hatch acquired five old passenger cars that had been on the Missouri, Kansas and Texas line, affectionately known to railroad men as the "Katy." In the old days, advertisements carried pictures of bustled ladies and starched children reaping the joys of these plush-upholstered cars. The notorious "Wancho gang of train robbers," operating out of New Braunfels, Texas, frequently assaulted cars of the "Katy," making passengers dance to pistol music until exhausted. Drummers, as frontier salesmen were called, sometimes staged impromptu games of baseball in the aisles, with umbrellas for bats, to relieve the monotony.

If you are a restless, hard-driven executive who dislikes getting out of high gear, forget the train ride. But if you remember the days when time meant less, when friends and neighbors hunkered in the sun and swapped small talk, if there is an ounce of Tom Sawyer left in you, and you are still able to settle back and enjoy oldfashioned easy living, you will surely appreciate the Scenic Railroad. As Henry David Thoreau pleaded: "Let us spend one day as deliberately as Nature, and not be thrown off the track by every nutshell and mosquito's wing that falls on the rails. Let us rise early and fast, or break fast, gently and without perturbation; let company come and let company go, let the bells ring and the children cry — determined to make a day of it."