Sal Reed stepped down from the high cab of No. 71. On the last run he had brought in No. 73 and exchanged it for this one, as the 100-hour maintenance mark approached. It had been another great day in the valley. The winds were light and there was almost no cloud cover. The bright sun had caused the river to sparkle a multitude of reflections into his face most of the way up. But he did not mind. It added to the dreamy effect of this absolutely wonderful valley. Sal felt great today. Everything was working well for him. The amount of in-going freight had finally started to diminish after a long run of thirteen years. Full inbound train loads had been the rule. Finally the loads were smaller and less frequent. He had been on this system from the very beginning and had risen to the senior position. Sal had the pick of assignments. If his brother John had lived, John would have been senior to Sal. John died in 1913 when the rotary he was operating crashed through trestle 75B. What was so ironic was that on the way north, John’s rotary No. X-1 had been stopped on that very trestle. John Reed decided to take advantage of the stop to drop the hot ashes through the grate, even though it was against company policy to dump ashes on the wood trestles due to the danger of fire. For reasons no one would ever know, John ignored the policy. On the return trip, he failed to see the thirty feet of burned, missing trestle. John was crushed by No. X-1 when it crashed through the trestle remains and landed deep in the ravine. The accident resulted from his own carelessness. But in a rare jury decision, his widow won a substantial settlement in court anyway.
Sal shook his head. He missed his brother and wished above all else that John could still be here to enjoy what Sal thought of as “God’s country.” What a pointless tragedy. I can’t believe you did that to us, John. He walked back to take another look at his consist. There were the usual thirty-five steel flat cars of 100,000 pound gross capacity. Four of them were loaded with milled lumber. There was a battery-powered locomotive bound for the mines on the fifth car and a load of steel on the sixth. The other cars were empty. In front were three outside-braced box cars. The attached tags indicated full loads of everything from oats to boxes of new clothes from Sears. A fourth car, no. 288, was the stock car holding several dairy cows destined for Kennecott. Pullman combine no. 51 was directly behind the tender. Sal decided it would be best to break the load up and relay it all to Kotsina. Then it could be reassembled for the trip into Shushanna Junction. He turned to the stationmaster. “We’ll break this up into two sections. I’ll take the heavy front end as one load, with the pusher to my rear, then return for all the empty flat cars.” George nodded. Usually they would send the coach car last, so the passengers wouldn’t be stuck at Kotsina waiting for the rest of the train. However, there were no passengers today except Johnny and Cap, who were still considered railroad employees. George would prevail on them to help with the train relay process. He walked back to the depot to explain this to the two passengers. Sal began powering up the engine for the first run. It was quite warm out so the engine required little time to gain full pressure. The first group of cars would be ready to leave soon. It would be a quick process. At the depot Cap sat with his father. “Remember, you’re the son of the chief. Do right. If you have a son, you will be chief someday. That’s our way.” “I know, father. I’ll follow our Indian way. You know that.” Johnny sat with his mother Helen, his sister Violet and her musher friend Abbey. Charlie sat on the other side of Cap. Abbey had the dog Yew nee on a leash. If anyone could hold back this dog, it was Abbey. She had a way with animals which baffled the men. George walked up to Johnny and explained the situation. “You just help with this relay process to speed it all up, and I’ll owe you one.” “You’ve always been fair with us, George. But we’d do it anyway. We’re still part of the railroad. Don’t send someone along you don’t need when we’re there anyway.” The train pulled out so smoothly, the two Indians in the combine hardly noticed. Sal was a wizard at the controls. “Back to Kennecott. Are we going to make this a habit, Sla’cheen?” “It’s an interesting place to work. Something always different. What do you think? I know you like the food.” “I could get used to it. That was quite a party at Tom’s lodge. What’d you think of it, Johnny?” “I sure found a lot of female admirers. Tom’s rose hip wine was not as good as he made it sound, but it sure was strong. The women seemed to like it, anyway. I still didn’t find any women I like as well as Rose.” “Still on that Rose thing, are you Johnny? Am I going to have to drag you out of McCarthy again?” The train pulled to a halt at Kotsina. The men jumped off the coach and waited. Sal Reed backed the loaded cars into the siding, where the two Indians uncoupled the load from the engine. “You guys come with me. Hop on. There’s enough room here. Ever ridden in one of these backwards? You might as well enjoy the run back to Chitina instead of waiting around for nothing here at Kotsina.” “This is going to be a great day. You’ll really like this. Come on up, Cap.”
Cap stepped up onto the high deck. He could feel a sense of enormous power coming through the steel floor of the cab. It was everywhere. He felt the life which existed within the massive engine. Now he was beginning to understand what Johnny must be feeling. Whatever magic there was in these iron horses was beginning to overtake him as well. This is . . . what is this I’m feeling? It’s great, whatever it is. I’m up here on this high deck and I love it. No wonder Johnny’s such a nut. Must be contagious. Now this is a machine. Cap would never speak those words. But Johnny caught the look on his face, smiled and pointed at him. “You’ve got the bug too, Cap. I know it when I see it.” He hugged Cap after saying that, much to Cap’s surprise. This was rare for the two of them, but both Cap and Johnny were so caught up in the exhilaration of the moment that they could hardly contain themselves. Johnny was thrilled beyond belief that his sla’cheen -- the person who invariably and inevitably ended up mattering the most in his life was there to share the ecstasy of this ride with him. It was less than an hour later before the train was finally reassembled at Kotsina and ready for the remaining run. “It’s one of those unusually great days out here, ” Reed observed. “It’s the kind of day a railroad engineer lives for. You two might as well stay up front with fireman and me. Plenty of room. Enjoy the trip. The scenery is awesome from up here as you’ve already observed. More so from the cab than anywhere else on the train.” Indeed it was. The route included several long straight lines of track which enabled the huge engine, running on track in near-perfect condition, to operate at very high speeds. The excitement of having that full sounding steam whistle blow so close as the heavy Mikado rushed through the Chitina River valley was of a type neither Cap nor Johnny had ever experienced. Even the normally stoic Cap was completely carried away by it all. Ahead at the end of the first long stretch was Strelna. The water tank stood prominently on the right, but to left, a depression filled with blackened remains marked the spot where a two-story lodge once stood only weeks before. A few minutes later the train reached the Kuskulana crossing. The steel bridge, together with its wood trestle approaches, exceeded 700 feet. The depth of the gorge seemed even more pronounced from the locomotive cab. Just beyond the gorge were several long straight stretches which allowed the train to reach its full speed of over sixty miles per hour. Cap could see indications of a small mining operation hanging along the sheer face of a cliff wall on the eastern end of Crystalline Hill as the locomotive raced on by. Soon the red buildings of Chokosna Station were in sight. A mining supply road led into the hills from the depot. The train made a brief mail stop and then continued. Minutes later the train reached the long curved Gilahina trestle, where it was necessary to slow to about ten miles per hour as the rails followed the contour of the hill, then entered the tall bridge. Water barrels were placed on platforms every hundred feet in event of fire due to hot ashes from the train. The train followed yet another series of long, straight track sections into Crystal Lake. A water tower stood at the small trestle crossing the creek. Beyond was a sawmill operation on Crystal Lake. The train passed through without stopping, heading into a final long run of track as it approached the Lakina River trestle, which was near the beginning of Long Lake. The train stopped to pick up a load of vegetables from the farm. This consisted mostly of carrots bound for Kennecott. These were favored by the mules which provided tram power in the Bonanza Mine on some of the levels. Beyond the lake, the train entered higher country as it approached the west slope of Fireweed Mountain. The approach into McCarthy was sometimes considered the best part of this run, due to the view of Bonanza Ridge, Porphyry Mountain and the Kennicott Glacier and river.
As the train approached Shushanna Junction, the sandy bluffs running along the eastern bank of the Kennicott River came into view. Then the glacier and the long trestle crossing. Just beyond lay the very small town of McCarthy. Cap immediately noticed the two-story drug store marking the center of town and the silent Mother Lode power plant at the southern end near the creek. I wouldn’t trade being here for anything. Nothing could replace it, not even close, except maybe for our visit to Shee-ya when he told us the raven story. What a thrill to share this ride with my sla’cheen Cap. My dearest friend ever. Two very happy young men left engine No. 71 at the junction, carrying their bedrolls. Cap had also packed the usual camping gear, just to be on the safe side. He had the bulk of the load strapped on his back. As the two wandered into town, Cap noticed that the old place seemed quieter than it was on their last summer visit. Two of the businesses on the main street stood empty. No one was in sight. “Seems odd around here. I miss Kay-yew-nee. It’s not right without him here, too. I’m going in for a soda, Sla’cheen.” “You know where I’m headed, Cap. See you later.” Cap wandered into the large drug store to find the soda fountain. Outside Johnny had continued on in the direction of the Row, apparently not caring that Cap was no longer walking with him. The feelings both had when they departed the train had quickly changed as they entered the town. Cap found a store that appeared to be equipped to handle a much larger town than McCarthy. To the rear was a row of post office boxes. A padded row of stools at the counter seemed inviting. Cap sat down, then looked around again. No sign of life anywhere. The place was huge, but there was no one in the heavily-stocked store.
The place was not that old, but there was something about it that made it feel ancient. Like the place itself was alive. It was dead silent. Nothing. But there was an unmistakable presence, and it was not friendly. He began to feel like he couldn’t breathe in there. Cap stood back up and quietly walked out the door and into the sunlight, where he felt a sense of relief. Something wrong in that place. Never going in there again. |
08 February 2011
Chapter 36: "Cap's Vision of Nicolai," Pt 1
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