MORE RAILROAD MEMORIES DFCox

I am a train buff, have been since my early teens. I always take every opportunity to have an interesting ride or even listen to a CD of locomotive sounds. When I get motivated I want to create a post to hit some of the highlights of railroad history as it pertains to Cedar Vale. Right now though, I would like to describe my four all-time favorite train experiences. They all involve 3rd world countries--I guess that makes them more exotic and certainly involves vintage rolling stock. OK ?? Here we go--

#4 THE NIGHT EXPRESS

This ride is one I took many times because it was such a civilized way to get from A to B. It is/was the Night Express from Guadalajara (Mexico) to the capitol, Mexico City. This fine old train was mostly formed from old stateside Pullman Cars and although they were a bit creaky, they were well maintained and had all "roomettes" with private lavatory.

One bought a ticket and boarded in Guadalajara at 10:00 PM. There was a club car where one could read a book, have a drink, watch people, make new friends, or all the preceding. The steward was available to convert the roomette into a bedroom whenever you wished. As the train rocked, pitched, and clickity-clacked its way to Mexico D.F.; the hypnotic movement and sounds could lull even an insomniac to dreamland. If the train didn't spend too much time on sidings during the night, we were passing the outskirts of Mexico City at 6:30 AM. On pulling into the Central Station one was already near the center of city, as opposed to a distant airport or a satellite bus station. What a way to go!! The one way ticket was less than $20. The train in the picture just shows the vintage of the cars. The train was pulled by a diesel Locomotive when I rode it in the '70s and early '80s while living in Guadalajara.

#3 THE DRY ZONE EXPRESS

This soot belching steam train was the "Dry Zone Express" in Burma, from Rangoon to Mandalay. (I use the old names for the country and the city as they were when I was there)

In '75, when I visited, Burma was just recently opened to tourists. Six days was the maximum stay and the officials were very paranoid about goods you brought in--like cameras, cigarettes, etc. Money was exchanged at the official rate at the airport and we were warned against buying money elsewhere or selling any personal items. I soon saw why, the populace was starved for consumer goods and I was hounded immediately I left the airport to sell dollars, cigarettes or about anything. ---but I digress.

I learned about this way to get to Mandalay and I allotted 3 days, one day to go, one day there, and one day to return. I went to the station bright and early and my language barrier was intense, but the locals were on my side and I finally got a ticket on the sold out train. The cars on this train had sturdy wooden bench seats that faced each other. I finally settled on a seat with two giggly girls and three Buddhist monks. The train had a beverage bar which sold only local soda drinks. They ran out at 10:30 AM on a 10 hour run. The locals were well prepared for this and the fact that there was no food on the train. I must say that as people realized how ill prepared I was they offered me food and drink which I was loath to accept. As this was an express run, no stops were scheduled, BUT there were two stops in the middle of nowhere and and both stops a crowd was there selling food and drink. Both the food and the drink were highly suspect hygienically, but what's a guy to do?? I ate and drank, but immediately took a prophylactic dose of tetracycline which I carried at all times. It worked because I didn't sicken. This trip took the full 10 hours across the hot, hot, dry zone of Burma. I'm guessing it was over 100 degrees F. I spent a lot of the time sitting on the carriage steps between cars where the soot and embers from the locomotive were my companions, but it was better than inside the stifling car. The people were friendly and soon some from other cars were coming to try their English on me. One young student invited me to his families home to stay, but I declined as I had had enough adventure for the day. Would I do it again ??? YES, in a heartbeat if I had my health. It's the stuff of fond memories.

#2 "THE BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER KWAI"

After Burma I arrived in Bangkok, Thailand. A Thai friend from the Bay Area, now living in Bangkok, had a studio apartment rented for me there. It was not that I was capable of coping on my own with the language and customs, but between he and his family and friends, I was seldom left alone and had a guide for almost anything I wanted to see.

Well I learned that the rail line that the Japanese built out west to the Burma border still existed and that a memorial park was there to honor the British prisoners who perished there. (My history is hazy--I don't think the Japanese ever occupied Thailand as it wasn't ever a colony of any European nation. I may be that thy had cowed the government into some concessions). Arunothai Somsokul, my guide, took me to the correct station-Bangkok has several-and we set out to the west. The first part of the journey was unremarkable, but we changed trains 50 miles out and now we were on a genuine semi-antique steam train which stopped every 4 or 5 miles gaining and losing passengers at every stop. Most of passengers were bearing goods to market at some stop. There were ducks, geese, chickens, pigs and goats, and I mean in the passenger car. At one point I went into the toilet and found that one of the venders had cleaned her chickens there and left the feathers and entrails in the toilet and lavatory.

At every stop there was food for sale and we ate very well. I was intrigued that the Thais do not have everything in plastic or tin, most of our purchases came nicely wrapped in a banana leaf. Completely biodegradable! Finally we reached the end of the line--literally, as no rails or roads crossed the Thai-Burma border at that time. We were in a large village, which had a hotel for us. That night we joined the street fair which had a few tired carnival type booths and the big deal was the Movie. An outdoor screen and B grade Hong Kong Kung Fu movies.

The next day I hired a local lad to lead me out to the memorial spot which was at the end of a two mile path into the jungle. I was the only visitor there and I took my time adsorbing everything that was there--mostly my mind was recalling the scenes from the Academy Award winning movie and dwelling on the foibles of mankind.

#1 CLIMBING THE ANDES

A few years ago I read an article in the "Smithsonian" magazine which told of an old mining railroad in the Andes Mountains of Ecuador which had been restored and where one could ride to the top of the Andes for the price of a ticket. I knew I had to do that, and sure enough, a year or two later I found myself landing at Guayaquil, Ecuador. Guayaquil is the largest city and main port of the country. My investigation revealed that although the train trip was designed to go all the way to Quito, the capitol, the road bed was passable only to the top at Copabamba and was some 60 kilometers shy of Quito at that time.

I got up early, checked out, and took a launch across the estuary and found the little train station. There were a fair number of tourists there for the adventure, all South Americans, as well as some locals going about their business. Our initial ride was a regular gauge train, passenger and freight, pulled by a diesel locomotive. We traversed the verdant coastal plain through many sugar plantations and fields of cane for about 65 kilometers to a bustling town right at the base of the Andes. After some delay all who were on for the whole trip were detrained and walked to the narrow gauge platform where the beautiful little "Puffabillie" steam locomotive awaited us. Our climb was to last seven hours, cover fifty miles, and climb 8,000 feet. Thrills abounded as we saw percipitous drop offs, rushing waters, and indigenous mountain people. There were many halts while we waited for track crews to repair washouts or clear slides from the right of way. At one point the railbed was so rough that the last car of our little train became uncoupled and was just starting it's solo trip back down the mountain until the brakeman ran back to our car and leaped aboard to whirl the ancient handbrake. The car screached slowly to a stop. Hallelujah!! He saved us from a major catastrophy.

We arrived at the site of the switchbacks. These are carved into the face of the mountain and consist of maybe 1/2 mile of track repeated seven times. The train pulls to the end of the track, then the crews throw a switch and the train reverses up the segment. The process is repeated and we chug forward the next 1/2 mile. This is repeated five more times til the train is able to resume climbing lesser grades.

The jaw dropping scenery and the shared perils had done a job on our group of passengers and we became a somewhat cohesive group during the journey. I found myself in conversation with Columbians, Brazilians, and Ecuadorians, mostly family groups. I even sat with some Colombian children while mom and dad sneaked off to the other car for some time alone.

Finally we arrived at 8:00 PM in the regional Andean town, Copabamba, which was the terminus at that time. We had to carry all our luggage up an upward sloping street at the sudden altitude of 9,000 feet while we searched for hotels and food. Oh well, I had done my all time # 1 train trip and survived. It's mine, I'll never forget it!

I checked the internet to see if this trip is still available. It is, but in a different form. I now goes all the way to Quito and is marketed by some travel agents. They have retired the "Puffibilly" and the old cars. They now have a self contained diesel car that they call "Chiva Express" which means goat--In this case it must be mountain goat. I know it would be much safer and cheaper to run than the old steam train. It would still be a great experience for some, but the glamour would be gone for me.

Note: Photos for the Andes portion of this post are sent separately--by necessity. dfc