Grizzly Northern Prepares for War, Caribou News and Chronicle 6 September 1939

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The Caribou News and Chronicle

Since 1909

Kamloops, British Columbia           Wednesday 6  September 1939

Special Issue - Page 1

Grizzly Northern Railway Prepares for War!

It is now three days  since Britain and France declared war on Germany, following the German invasion of Poland on 1 September. The House of Commons will meet in special session tomorrow and will debate Prime Minister Mackenzie King's request that Canada join the war in Europe. It is widely expected that such approval will be given and therefore that Canada will be at war shortly. The following bulletin was released to Grizzly Northern Railway employees yesterday in anticipation of the declaration of war.

Maudie-Ann Currie

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Grizzly Northern Railway

Kamloops, British Columbia

5 September 1939

My fellow employees, it is with heavy hearts that we learn that Canada will be at war with Germany once again, in the struggle for freedom against tyranny in Europe. It has been just under 21 years since the end of the Great War, with all the deaths and destruction that that war caused. Many of you served in the armed forces and also suffered injuries, or experienced the grievous loss of family members or friends in that awful war. You will well understand what lies ahead.

In the coming days much will be demanded of all of us in support of our government and Canada’s military. Our railway will have a key role to play in transporting both raw materials and goods in support of the war effort. I urge you to apply your best efforts at all times in carrying out your work, and I pledge that I will also do so.

For those of you who join the armed forces, you will go with our very best wishes and hope for your safe return. I assure you that there will be a position available with the Grizzly Northern for you then.

Obviously we will need more people to maintain and operate the increased number of trains that will be required, as well as to substitute for those who leave on armed forces service. I expect that many of your family members and friends may be interested in joining the company and I invite them to apply at our offices here in Kamloops, in Rocky Mountain House or at any other of our facilities. We will need more people to work as train crew, to maintain and operate locomotives, rolling stock and other equipment, to maintain trackwork, and certainly also in the offices. Based on our experience during the Great War I expect that many positions will be filled by women, and also perhaps by boys and girls ages 17 to 21 in some of the junior positions.  All will be welcomed.

Isambard Neuville

President and General Manager

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A Tale of Fire in the Smokebox

Tales From The Grizzly

A Tale of Fire in the Smokebox – September 1945

Phineas Farthing and Fernie Raker were just polishing off their hearty breakfasts in the YMCA cafeteria when Rupert Abergaster came rushing in to ask them to finish up quickly and head over to the Geiranger yard office, where an unscheduled assignment awaited them.

It was the day before Labour Day, a beautiful fall day, Tuesday, 12 September 1945. Phineas and Fernie had been expecting to enjoy part of the day relaxing after breakfast, before they were called to assist an eastbound freight up Trencrom Hill, to Nigel on the Continental Divide and down to Rocky Mountain House (Rocky). Phineas and Fernie had assisted a westbound freight over from Rocky the day before, leaving their assigned engine, No. 3950, a Grizzly Northern 2-8-0 “Consolidation” in the capable hands of hostler Horace Palfreyman for servicing overnight. Phineas and Fernie were based in Rocky and usually handled “pusher” assignments between Rocky and Geiranger. Pusher locomotives helped main “road” locomotives move heavy trains in climbing and descending steep grades, and despite their nickname could be located at the front, in the middle, or at the end of a train.)

At the yard office, to their surprise, Rufous Malarkey Malspike, the Division Superintendent  awaited their arrival. Daryl Drizzle the on-duty dispatcher was nowhere to be seen (he had rushed off home, having been told that his wife Desdemona was about to give birth to their first child). Most unexpectedly Rufous Malspike was in a genial and upbeat mood, perhaps anticipating his well earned and delayed retirement in October, given the end of the war in Asia and the easing of intensive efforts after six years of world conflict. “Boys, I’ve an easy assignment for you”, Malspike told them, “5706 (a 2-10-0 “Russian Decapod”) has been sitting dead at Clinemore, with a cracked air compressor casting and a seized feedwater pump. A team is up there working on it, using a compressor and parts scavenged from 5700 in the Rocky scrap yard. I want you boys to deadhead up to Clinemore and take 5706 down to Rocky, running light, since it’s in rough shape and needs a major rebuild. We can’t let it sit there any longer, the war with Japan is over, but traffic is still heavy and we’ve lost or worn out a hell of a lot of equipment.”

Malarkey’s statement was certainly true. The exhausting six-year- long war effort had taken a tremendous toll on the railway’s equipment, as well as on the men and women who had kept the railway running, what with limited materials and spare parts availability and inadequate maintenance. Moreover two other “Russians” had been destroyed in a landslide last month. The two engines, double heading a west bound freight down Trencrom Hill had been struck by a massive rock slide as they passed along the north side of Mount MacDonald. The engines and much of the train had been swept down the hill and into the Running Bear river. Sadly both engine crews had been killed. The accident had highlighted the need to renew and rebuild not only motive power and rolling stock but also  the railway’s manpower resources.

Gathering up their clothing and other gear from the YMCA bunkhouse and grabbing fried egg and bacon sandwiches, slices of blueberry pie and apples in the cafeteria, Phineas and Fernie caught a ride up to Clinemore in the van (caboose) of the last eastbound freight of the day. Clinemore, Alberta (mileboard 110.2), is a small town at the headwaters of the North Saskatchewan river, tucked under the gaze of the Three Nuns range to the south and Mount Randall to the southwest, just 15 miles east of Nigel and the Continental Divide. The town’s main feature, apart from limited maintenance facilities, is a coal mine owned by Brunel Coal Mines. In the early days of less powerful engines Clinemore had been a busy pusher station; now the only engine based there was a small 0-6-0 switcher that serviced the mine site.  No. 5706 was found steaming on the ready track beside the empty six stall roundhouse, wisps of steam leaking copiously from many spots.

The engine crew found Basil Palfreyman tending 5706 - Basil, Horace Palfreyman’s father, was the senior hostler at Geiranger. Basil had come  up  on Sunday to light 5706’s fire, once the Clinemore mechanics had replaced the air compressor and fixed the feedwater pump.  Basil told Phineas and Fernie not to push 5706 too hard even though they would be running light, as the engine was well past the need for a major tear down and rebuild, also there had been no maintenance recently – all too evident when looking at the dilapidated engine - built by Baldwin Locomotive Works in 1916. Basil had already coupled 5706 to a van crewed by Charlie Washhouse (conductor) and Woody McMurdoo (brakeman), who were standing nearby. Charlie and Woody were based in Rocky like Phineas and Fernie. Their little train was identified as Extra 5706 East.

There was not much for the engine crew to do before climbing up into the cab, other than to coordinate their time pieces with Charlie and Woody and to go over train orders with them. Shortly after 1:00 PM Charlie gave a highball sign from the van’s rear steps, Phineas opened the throttle, adjusted the regulator and they began to roll eastward. Heeding Basil’s warning, Phineas was careful to limit the speed to 25 mph once they were under way. Fernie carefully tended his fire, shoveling in a few scoops of coal from time to time and kept a close watch on the boiler water level. Fernie observed that the coal was brownish and soft, rather like his Brown Goose plug chewing tobacco. He speculated that the coal had probably come from the notorious Dunhill coal mine on Vancouver Island, via Kamloops, where 5706 had been based during the war years. Unfortunately good quality bituminous coal from the mines at Brunel and Clinemore had become scarce as the war progressed, due to the shortage of skilled miners. They passed Ibsen, seven miles east of Clinemore and all was well.  From Ibsen (mileboard 93.1), all the way to Rocky, the grade presented an easy downhill run, allowing Phineas to maintain 25 mph, with 5706 frequently drifting on the steeper downgrades.

They passed through Rampart (mileboard 85.5), and began to swing along the south shore of the North Saskatchewan River. A thin plume of white steam and smoke pushed up from the smokestack, the gentle rapid chuffing sounds from the stack and the cylinders were music to the ears of the engine crew. Fernie brewed up a pot of coffee on a shelf attached to the boiler backhead; they enjoyed their coffee and sandwiches and daydreamed of getting home in time to enjoy tomorrow’s Labour Day evening celebrations in Rocky – the first such celebrations since before the war. The cab was a comfortable temperature, the engine was moving along nicely, although the gentle chuffing was accompanied by much rattling and creaking throughout and loud clanking from the driving rods. The sun beamed down from an eye-blinding clear blue sky, the turbulent North Saskatchewan sparkled, its waters were a grey glacial till colour rather than blue, the aspen trees on the hillsides glowed a bright light yellow, in contrast with evergreens higher up. Several herds of elk were seen in clearings near the rail line. Phineas spotted a black bear sitting on his haunches in the middle of wild blackberry patch, getting his fill of the sweet late season berries. It was a perfect day. As Malarkey had said, it was an easy assignment.

As they ran through the village of Shakespeare (mileboard 66.5) Fernie was occupied in shoveling coal into the firebox (accompanied occasionally by a spent wad of chewing tobacco) checking the boiler water level and adjusting the feed water pump flow. Suddenly he noticed a sharp reduction in the firebox draft, accompanied by a distinct change in the exhaust sound - more of a muffled woof than a crisp chuff. Fernie looked  forward – he was startled to see a mixture of intense black smoke, flames and burning embers blasting out of the tall smokestack and high into the air. This definitely was not as it should be. He shouted across to Phineas, who had been half-dreaming in his seat, his left hand still on the throttle lever and the right on the regulator handle, his thoughts on his soldier son’s impending return from the war in Europe. Phineas, startled. stuck his head out his side window to look and then released a stream of profanities. “Blower dammit, and sand!” he shouted. Fernie leapt to  open up the smoke box blower air flow to maximum and shoveled several large scoops of sand into the firebox. At the same time Phineas opened up the throttle briefly to further increase the draft through the smoke box and out the stack, although there was a risk of sucking up the top of Fernie’s carefully laid bed of coals and blasting it through the  boiler tubes into the smoke box, adding to the unwanted fire already there.  From his limited experience with smoke box fires Phineas expected that their actions would quickly suffocate the fire and clear out the burning embers. But that was not the case this time – the smokestack continued to spew the awful mixture of smoke, flames and embers. This indicated a stubborn accumulation of burning material in the smoke box, a mixture of soot, unburned coal and molten clinker, produced by a combination of rotten coal, lack of maintenance and poor operating  conditions. Fernie hastily shut off the smoke box blower since it was only fanning the fire.

More serious measures needed to be taken quickly, before serious damage or an explosion occurred. There was risk of burning through the smoke box dust screens, or worse of burning through the exposed superheater coil elbows that protruded into the smoke box from the boiler flues. Phineas closed the throttle, moved the regulator in reverse and applied the engine and train brakes.. Number 5706 and the van behind came to a grinding screeching halt, so quickly that Charlie and Woody back in the van were jolted and tossed out of their seats.  They jumped down and ran forward, joining Phineas and Fernie for a quick discussion as to what to do. It was now 3:00 pm and the sun was beginning to touch the top of the mountains to the west. Their train was three miles east of Shakespeare and 10 miles west of the hamlet of Cervantes (mileboard 53.2), not that either place had any useful equipment, other than that there were telegraph facilities to communicate with Rocky, 64 miles to the east.

They were sitting on the mainline, with the nearest passing siding at Cervantes, however no further trains were scheduled in either direction that afternoon so other trains were not a concern, although additional help might have been useful. Ugly smoke and glowing embers continued to erupt from the smoke stack.  There was no habitation in sight, the only building to be seen was an old tool storage shack that had been used during the railway construction.

The crew decided that Woody would hike back to Shakespeare and send a telegraph to Rocky advising of their predicament, while the other three worked on trying to bring the smoke box fire under control. Woody set off down the tracks on his three mile hike. Phineas decided that their best bet was to try to open the smoke box door and try quench the fire with sand. This would not be an easy task. The hinged smoke box door was locked in place by 14 latches, each of which had to be released by a hammer blow. Also the large headlight on its bracket in the centre of the door limited easy access to the latches. Not only would it be difficult to reach the latches without the usual ladders and scaffolding used in an engine  workshop, the smoke box and the door were extremely hot, and the smoke stack exhaust noxious.

The first step needed was to blow down the boiler, sharply dropping steam pressure and reducing the risk of a steam explosion should a super heater coil or boiler flue seal burn through, then to quench the fire in the fire box, cutting the draught through the flues to  the smoke box. While Phineas and Fernie were occupied with this, Charlie, exploring the old tool shack found several ladders, a plank and a 20 foot length of heavy rope that were to prove very useful. The three men managed to rig up a scaffolding of sorts under the nose of the smoke box, with a ladder placed on each side of the head light. Each on a ladder and armed with a sledge hammer, Phineas and Fernie whacked away at the 14 latches securing the smoke box door, taking short breaks due to the intense heat. Charlie acted as water boy, sloshing buckets of cool water from a nearby stream at them as they worked .

At last all latches were opened, but how to swing the smoke box door open without being injured or worse killed, given the raging inferno inside and their precarious position on the jury-rigged platform?  Charlie threw up the rope to them, Phineas looped one end of it around the left side grab rail stanchion on the door, threw the other end down to Charlie and climbed down, followed by Fernie. Together and standing well back and in front of the engine the three men hauled on the rope. Despite their best efforts the door wouldn’t budge on its hinges the first time around. They repositioned themselves on a diagonal to the right of the engine on and tried again. This time the door began to open, slowly at first, then with a sudden bang it slammed open, revealing the interior of the smoke box.

It was like looking into the gate to hell – intense dark red and bright orange flames and black smoke clouds swirling around and around, then up the smoke stack and now roaring out the open front of the smokebox. The entire inner wall of the smoke box was coated with a red hot burning layer of clinker and soot, the dust screen was  a crumbling glowing mess of clinker and melting metal; the front end of the boiler was coated with clinker and soot, although not as much as elsewhere, the superheater coil elbows miraculously were intact and only lightly coated. The influx of fresh air as the door opened resulted in a explosive but temporary increase in the volume of  smoke and flames. Standing in awe, looking at this spectacle, the crew realized that there was little they could do more, other than allow the fire to burn itself out, now that no more fuel was being supplied and the draft had been stopped. In any case it was likely that a supply of sand, if it had been available, and if it could have been shoveled in and about quickly by the three tired men, would probably not have made much of a difference.

Exhausted the three men walked back to the van. Inside Fernie fired up the little kerosene stove and put on the kettle. Soon they were able enjoy a well earned mug of tea and to gulp down what remained of their lunches. It was by this time approaching 6:00 pm and dusk was approaching. Not much they could do but wait for assistance to arrive. Checking on the smokebox condition showed that the fire had extinguished itself, with only a dull red glow and a bit of smoke to be seen here and there.

Just then a honking horn was heard from near the old construction shack. It was Woody, together with two others, in a battered 1930 Ford Model A pickup truck belonging to Bolingbroke’s garage in Shakespeare. They had come via an old railway construction road. Woody advised that the Rocky office had ordered the dispatch of a relief train with work crew, but this wouldn’t arrive until the morning. Wearily they all piled into the truck and headed to Shakespeare for the night. There they were welcomed at the Falstaff Hotel ( “Rooms available - no reservations required - Canadian and Chinese food”), knocked back a few pints of Cougar Strong Ale in the Henry IV beer parlour and then tucked into plates of Alberta roast beef, roasted potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, before turning in.

Just after 10:00 the next morning, as Phineas and the other crew members arrived back from Shakespeare in Bolingbroke’s truck; the relief train, Extra 10 West, arrived from Rocky – a 2-8-0 Consolidation, Number 3950, trailing a maintenance boxcar plus a old passenger car, occupied by a four man work crew. It had reversed direction on a wye at Cervantes and run in reverse the 10 miles to where 5706 was standing. The relief work crew quickly sized up the locomotive’s condition and readied the dilapidated looking engine for a creeping tow to the siding at Cervantes. It would be parked there for several days, until decisions were made on moving it further. It was likely that the driver running gear would have to be partially disconnected to allow faster speed and avoid damage on the 53 mile run to Rocky.

The move to Cervantes was completed by mid afternoon. The van was uncoupled from 5706 and  coupled to the end of the relief train, leaving 5706 standing alone on the siding. Phineas and Fernie joined Charlie and Woody in the van. The relief train, now Extra 3950 East, rolled on to Rocky Mountain House.

Extra 3950 East arrived in the Rocky train yard at dusk, just before 8:00 pm, allowing the two crews to park the train for the night, book off at the yard office and head over to nearby Municipal Park to join the windup of Labour Day celebrations.  A small crowd was gathered around a  giant bonfire. Phineas found his wife Penelope (Penny) in the crowd and they walked home together. There was a telegram tucked into the mail slot of their front door. Their son Penryn had arrived in Halifax on board a troopship and would be home on the train next week! It was a good ending to the day, and some compensation for  that “easy assignment” that Rufous Malarkey  had given to Phineas and crew yesterday.

  

THE END

Cast of Characters:

Phineas Shoreditch Farthing – Engineer, Rocky Mountain House

Penelope Farthing – Phineas’s wife

Penryn Farthing – Phineas’s son

Fernie Cole Raker – Fireman, Rocky Mountain House

Rufous Malarky Malspike – District Superintendent, Geiranger

Rupert Abergaster - Crew Call-boy, Geiranger

Daryl Drizzle – Dispatcher, Geiranger

Desdemona Drizzle – Daryl’s wife

Basil Palfreyman – Senior Hostler, Geiranger

Horace Palfreyman – Engine Hostler, Geiranger

Charlie Washhouse – Conductor, Rocky Mountain House

Woody McMurdoo – Brakeman, Rocky Mountain House

Grizzly Northern 2-6-6-2 Monashees at Clinemore

Grizzly Northern 2-6-6-2 Monashees Numbers 8001 and 8002 pause at Clinemore Alberta

New Motive Power for the Grizzly Northern

THE  GRIZZLY

The Bulletin of the Grizzly Northern Railway

Issue  Number Six                                                                                                            September 5 1946

New motive power for the Grizzly Northern!

Railway officials were on hand at the Kamloops station yard on August 26^th to welcome the arrival of an addition to the railway’s locomotive fleet, a heavy 2-10-2 Santa Fe type engine, purchased from the Kansas City Southern Railway.

The engine, ex Kansas City Southern No. 220, will be renumbered as Grizzly Northern No. 5803. It is similar to the Grizzly Northern’s other 2-10-2, No. 5802. Both engines, built by American Locomotive Works in 1923, have 57 in. dia. drivers, weigh 380,000 lbs and have 73,800 lbs tractive effort.

Mr. Richard Trevithick, Chief, Motive Power and Rolling Stock, noted that No. 220 is the first locomotive to be acquired by the Grizzly Northern since 1938 and is much needed given the loss of No. 5800 in 1940, due to an avalanche, and No. 5801 in 1942, due to a boiler explosion; also in view of many locomotives reaching their end of life after years of heavy usage during the war.  

Mr. Trevithick pointed out an interesting feature of No. 220 is that it is oil fired, unlike No. 5802 and other Grizzly Northern locomotives, which are coal fired. He stated that the plan is to carefully evaluate the performance and maintenance characteristics and the economics of No. 220 as compared to No. 5802 in determining whether to convert other engines to oil. He said that No. 220, renumbered as No. 5803, would be assigned to Geiranger, to join No. 5802 in pusher service on the mainline.

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A Winter's Tale -- December 1942

Tales From The Grizzly

 A Winter’s Tale – December 1942

The call came at 05:30 a.m. on a frigid dark Saturday morning in December 1942; with 14-year-old call-boy Rupert Abergaster pounding on the front door of Hamish Quinbar McGeachy’s house on Railway Avenue in Geiranger, calling from outside the front door that an engine crew was urgently needed.

“Would Mr. McGeachy please hurry, Mr. Malspike is in a rage down at the yard office. There’s a hot-shot freight that’s supposed to come through here early this morning and they need another pusher. I’ll wait for you”. Rufous Malspike was the District Superintendent.

Wearily the 45-year-old McGeachy pulled himself out of bed and groped for his bib overalls, wool socks and high boots and put them on in the dark so as not to disturb his wife Leticia. He had tumbled into bed with his long johns on, so there was no need to search for them. Leticia merely mumbled goodnight and fall back to sleep. Hamish had only got to bed at midnight, having assisted a heavy westbound freight down from Nigel, Alberta, on the Continental Divide just two hours earlier. There had only been time to gulp some cold beef stew that Leticia had left on the table, before he hit the pillow. McGeachy had made five pusher assists up to Nigel and returns back to Geiranger on Friday before booking off at the Geiranger yard office. His assigned engine, 2-10-2 “Santa Fe” type GNR  No. 5802, had been left in the hands of Horace Palfreyman, a nineteen year old hostler, for some much needed servicing.

These were difficult times for the railway and the train crews. Many scheduled and unscheduled heavy freight movements, both eastbound and westbound, were needed as part of the war effort, but at the same time able-bodied men were being drawn away into the armed forces, many of them with the technical skills and knowledge required to keep the trains running. Young lads like Rupert Abergaster, and young women like Rupert’s 18 year-old sister Rhonda, were joining the workforce in numbers to replace departing men. Rhonda was an engine wiper at the Geiranger roundhouse, along with four other young women. Six young lads in their late teens worked under the direction of the few grizzled old hands remaining, as apprentice pipe fitters, mechanics and hostlers, servicing and turning around the much used and abused pusher engines as they arrived at the engine terminal.

Geiranger, British Columbia, located in the Running Bear Pass in the Rockies, was then a “pusher” station, providing extra engines to help trains on the grades on either side of Geiranger - 2% to 3.5 % grades up to Nigel, 11 track-miles  to the east, and Byng, 17 track-miles to the west. The majority of the Grizzly Northern’s mainline engines were Baldwin or Canadian Foundry 2-8-0 “Consolidations” and Baldwin 2-10-0 “Russian Decapods”, built  during or immediately after WWI. These engines were overworked and underpowered for the heavy freight trains needed to meet wartime demands. As a result trains were usually headed by two Consolidations or two “Russians”, and frequently had a third engine working mid train or a fourth pushing at the rear. To cope with the increased loads and reduce the number of engines and crews needed, two heavy 2-10-2 Santa Fe types, built by American Locomotive Company in 1923, had been bought and positioned at Geiranger in 1941. They were usually used as head end pushers.

Putting on his striped cap, heavy Mackinaw and gauntlet gloves, Hamish stepped out on the veranda into the blowing snow and asked Rupert if he had knocked up Sam Scroggins at the YMCA. The “Y” was on VanDonkers Street, across from the yard offices. Sam was McGeachy’s regular partner and one of the best firemen on the Grizzly Northern. He was a string bean of a man, but could shovel several tons of coal an hour on the hard working Consolidations and Russians, which were not equipped with mechanical stokers. Rupert said that he had found Sam on his bunk in the YMCA bunkhouse dormitory, sleeping on top of the blankets, still wearing  his overalls and boots. Rupert had been able to shake Sam somewhat awake and had left him there while he went to rouse Hamish.

Rupert Abergaster and Hamish McGeachy trudged through the rapidly falling blowing snow, down

Railway Avenue

and along VanDonkers. They picked up Sam Scroggins at the YMCA bunkhouse, as well as several thermoses of coffee and packages of fried egg and bacon sandwiches in the Y’s coffee shop (open around the clock as part of the war effort), before crossing to the yard offices. Rupert was happy to head for the warmth of the Dispatcher’s office and await his next orders for a crew call there. The outside temperature had been plus 35 degrees F the evening before, caused by a very warm but brief chinook, and had plummeted to minus 10 degrees F overnight as the chinook died away.

Stepping into the District Superintendent’s yard office, and its gas-lit warmth, Hamish and Sam found Rufous Malspike furiously pacing up and down, hurling invective at the unfortunate telegrapher, Bertie Ironfist. Thirty minutes ago Bertie had handed Rufous Malspike a telegram, which Bertie said had just arrived, although this was not quite true.

The telegram read:

“23:30 18 December 1942 Kamloops Stop Rufous Malspike District Superintendent Geiranger Stop Most urgent you expedite freight Extra 25 East Stop Consist includes urgently needed war effort cargo diverted via GNR due to blocked CPR mainline Stop Extra Number 25 East expected arrival Geiranger 05:00 20 December 1942 Stop Special Government agents on board have full authority Security Code X Stop Ensure pusher engine  available Stop Acknowledge message Stop Isambard Dunstan Neuville President Stop”

The unfortunate Bertie avoided offering an clear explanation as to why the telegram had not been delivered to Malspike hours earlier. The reason was that the first message arrived as Bertie, who had been on duty for 16 hours, had slept like a log in his swivel chair, with his dog Fergus asleep in his lap. Dafyd Abergaster, the Station Master had staggered off home some four hours before, he too having worked for 16 hours. Bertie and Fergus had been soothed to sleep by the warmth of the office pot-bellied stove and the Seth Thomas clock ticking on the wall, oblivious to the clicking of the telegraph key as the Kamloops telegrapher attempted to contact him. It was Fergus, needing to answer a call of nature, who had awakened Bertie as Kamloops again tried to contact him. Bertie hurriedly responded and took down the delayed message, but dithered for several minutes before working up the courage to crank the telephone and rouse Rufous Malspike at his home on Glacier Street, 15 minutes away at a quick walk.

Extra 25 East rolled into Geiranger late, at 06:30 am as Hamish and Sam arrived at Malspike’s yard office. The train was a consist of four CPR steel “through-baggage” cars, with the windows barred and blacked out and the doors heavily sealed, with a Grizzly Northern caboose bringing up the rear. Hamish recognized that the baggage cars were CPR cars previously used in silk train service in the 20’s and early 30’s.

Extra 25 East had been delayed on the 3% grades between Big Horn, Dolally and Pushkin Creek. It was headed by a pusher  2-8-0 Consolidation, GNR No. 3959, ahead of a second 2-8-0, CPR No. 3953. Both engines were normally reliable performers, however 3959, due for a major overhaul in the Kamloops shops, had been badly leaking steam in several places and was not able to keep the boiler pressure at 190 lbs. No. 3953 had sprung several stay bolts and had started leaking too. It had also been losing traction on the snow-slicked rails, some overworked hostler having failed to fill the sand dome during a fast turn-around at Kamloops. Only through some clever work on the part of the two engine crews had they been able to get Extra 25 East up the 3% grades at a grueling 5 miles per hour. Neither engine was fit to continue heading eastwards with the train.

Rufous Malarky Malspike, to give him his full name, was a short rotund 45-year-old hard-boiled Scottish-born railroader, known for his hot temper and his loud, rude and Scottish accented vocal outbursts when pressured by events, even minor ones. This was certainly a major event, given the GNR president’s telegram, the arrival at short notice of the priority freight and the failing engines. Whirling around as Hamish and Sam entered the yard office, he bellowed, “McGeachy take 5802 and get that damn train up to Nigel, a relief engine from Clinemore will take over there. 3953 and 3959 are coming off”, gesturing towards Extra 25 East and it’s two wheezing engines. “The Kamloops crews are booking off, Danny McGrew is your conductor, Mike Yuhaz and Frenchy Gendron are your brakemen. No talking to the passengers in the van and no questions, do you ken laddie?”. McGeachy quickly acknowledged that he did “ken”.

Malspike liked to use the term “van” rather than “caboose” as he considered caboose to be an Americanism.  Hamish and Sam, who couldn’t have cared less as to whether it was a “van” or a “caboose” were only to happy to flee the yard office and head to the engine terminal.

No. 3953 and No. 3959 were uncoupled from Extra Number 25 East and the two engines limped to the engine terminal. The Kamloops crews wearily staggered off to the YMCA bunkhouse. The “passengers” climbed down from the caboose; four unshaven men in trench coats, wearing big slouch-brimmed fedoras, incomprehensibly in view of the darkness – aviator sunglasses, and carrying Thompson submachine guns. Two of the men walked to the yard office while the other two patrolled each side of the train, then quickly retreated to the warm caboose. The first two “passengers” spent some time huddled in the yard office with Malspike, giving instructions to Bertie for a telegram, before they too returned to the caboose, giving Hamish and Sam a suspicious look-over as they passed by. Hamish thought the big one looked like Sydney Greenstreet and the little guy like Peter Lorre, from the “Maltese Falcon”, which Hamish had recently seen in Clinemore. Hamish speculated to Sam that the baggage cars must be carrying gold bullion in view of all the security measures.

Hamish and Sam found No. 5802 standing on a ready track next to the turntable, gently hissing steam in the minus 10 degrees F temperature. No. 5802 was the second 2-10-2 assigned to Geiranger for pusher service. Its two compound air compressors gave an occasional thump-thump; a gentle hissing came from a variety of sources. A thick layer of hoarfrost covered surfaces exposed to the leaking steam. No. 5802 had been standing outside since early Friday evening and had accumulated a heavy load of wet snow on the engine and tender before the big temperature drop. Usually the engine would have been in the roundhouse given the weather conditions, but all 12 stalls were occupied.

Clambering up into the cab of the big engine the two men set about getting ready to move.  Horace Palfreyman had banked the fire before leaving No. 5802 on the ready track but the boiler pressure had dropped to 150 lbs overnight, so it was time to quickly build up the fire and get the pressure up to 190. None of the Grizzly Northern’s engines were fitted with enclosed vestibule cabs, the only protection against the wintery blasts at the rear of the cab being the canvas curtains. Hamish pulled the canvas curtain closed on his side, cleared crusted snow from his forward and side windows, turned on the dynamo to power the cab lights and headlight, and checked pressure gauges. Sam likewise closed the curtain and cleaned windows on his side, read the water gauges and shoveled coal from the tender into the firebox. After building up the fire bed to a nice bright even level, he turned on the steam to the stoker engine.

To Sam’s surprise the stoker engine and auger refused to start, groaning loudly – no coal sprayed into the firebox, clearly something was amiss. Sam found that the coal in the tender was reluctant to feed into the auger tray. Snow accumulated on the coal load had melted and run down into the front end of the tray and frozen there. Cursing a blue streak, Sam grabbed a long crow bar from the tool box and with his shovel, pushed his way through the curtains, opened the coal bunker doors and climbed into the tender bunker. Within several minutes  he had pried several hundred pounds of coal loose and shoveled it onto the cab deck. Sam furiously scooped the coal into the firebox, artfully placing each scoop where it was most needed. Having built up the fire enough for the moment, he returned to breaking coal loose in the auger tray and by working the stoker engine in forward and reverse directions got the auger operating. Coal now blew onto the fire bed as quickly as the auger deposited it on the distribution plate.

In the meantime Hamish, having noted what was happening, clambered down with a lantern to do a walk around inspection of the engine and to check whether Horace Palfreyman had filled the connecting rod oil pots. Thankfully he found all was well. Back up in the cab 15 minutes later Hamish found Sam carefully nursing the fire and steam pressure climbing nicely. Head-end brakeman Mike Yuhaz  joined them in the cab. The temperature in the cab climbed from just above freezing to a more workable plus 60 F as the boiler backhead temperature increased and intense heat blasted into the cab. Another 15 minutes and the boiler pressure had climbed to 180 lbs, allowing Hamish to move the engine to the mainline and back up to the train. Mike Yuhaz quickly completed the coupling operations.

The five crew members gathered in the yard office to check their time pieces again and complete paperwork. Hamish, Sam and Mike returned to the cab of No. 5802, while Danny McGrew and Frenchy Gendron trudged through the snow to the caboose. Rufous Malspike continued to fulminate at the further delays in getting the train underway and had Bertie Ironfist sending minute by minute  messages to senior management as to why Extra 25 East hadn’t yet moved from Geiranger.

The first hint of daylight over the mountains occurred at 07:00 a.m. as the clouds moved eastwards and the blowing snow began to clear.  Hamish completed charging the train’s air lines and gave two short blasts of the whistle to alert the rear end crew that they were ready to move. Danny McGrew acknowledged and gave a go-ahead signal using the air-line pressure release valve. Hamish released the engine’s brakes, then the train brakes and eased the throttle open, taking out the coupler slack gradually. In sub zero temperatures metal becomes brittle and Hamish didn’t want to risk breaking a coupler. The engine’s 56-inch diameter drivers slipped momentarily on the snow clad track, causing a short burst of staccato chuffs, then grabbed as he released a shot of sand. Slowly, at last Extra 25 East got underway, at 07:30 a.m., just as the sun was rising over the Chapel Crags.

Hamish eased the train out of the yard, opening up the throttle and maintaining long cut-off as they met the first steep grade immediately east of the yard limit. The train gathered momentum and within a few minutes he had it moving at 12 miles per hour, a speed that he tried to maintain as the grade increased to 2.5 % then 3 %. They climbed along the Running Bear river towards the lower spiral tunnel, with light snow obscuring the mountains on either side of the valley. Ten minutes later they crossed over the Running Bear river, which in spring would be a raging torrent but was now a mere trickle emitting clouds of foggy mist that condensed on the rocks and the towering Douglas firs nearby. In another five minutes the portal to the lower spiral loomed out of the mist; a mixture of smoke and wet steam from earlier trains still leaking from the tunnel mouth.

Before entering the tunnel the engine crew grabbed clean cotton waste from the storage box to use as face masks. Within seconds the cab temperature shot up to 120 degrees F and the cab filled with acrid exhaust smoke and steam. The hammering staccato of the exhaust was deafening.

The lower spiral, lying under the flank of Mount Mousehole (locally pronounced muzzle), is just over 2,900 feet long and the train, now moving at 10 miles per hour, emerged from the tunnel some 3 minutes after entering it 50 feet below. The crew threw open the windows and the cab roof hatch to let in a rush of much needed fresh cold air as the train moved across the valley towards the upper spiral. The crew again grabbed for their improvised face masks as the engine plunged into the upper tunnel under the edge of Mount Tintagel. Windows and roof hatches were again thrown open as they blasted out of the 3,300 foot long upper spiral 4 minutes later and another 56 feet higher. The train reached the siding at Yee Haw, just after 08:30 am, where a west bound freight sat waiting for them to pass.

The west bound freight was headed by two 2-8-0 Consolidations out of Rocky Mountain House. Hamish recognized both crews, who were leaning out of their cab windows as they passed. He gave two short toots of 5802’s whistle as an acknowledgement and set the bell ringing to alert the other train’s rear end crew. Ten minutes later he whistled for the 1,000 foot long snow shed just before Grouse siding. They continued on the climb on Trencrom Hill, now moving at only 8 miles per hour. Fifteen minutes later they steamed into Nigel, on Wapiti Lake, just east of the Continental Divide.

No. 3950, a GNR 2-8-0 Consolidation based in Rocky Mountain House, sat on the siding waiting to relieve 5802. It would be easy work for the single Consolidation and its crew on the 125 mile down-hill run from Nigel to “Rocky”. Hamish recognized 3950’s crew; Phineas Farthing, engineer, Fernie Raker, fireman, and Charlie Washhouse, conductor. Hamish didn’t recognize the two brakeman, who looked like they should still have been in school. Hamish and Phineas had had gone to high school together in Clinemore.

The Geiranger crew moved 5802 to a siding as the Rocky crew moved 3950 into place at the head of the train. Meanwhile, the four “passengers” had come forward from the caboose and were conferring with two equally sinister looking men who had appeared from the Nigel station office. These two new men had obviously been outfitted by the same agency as the original four -  trench coats, slouch fedoras, sunglasses, and not least, submachine guns. To Hamish all that was needed was for Humphrey Bogart to appear and join the Greenstreet and Lorre look-a-likes. One of the men gave a highball signal to the Rocky crew as they walked back and boarded the caboose. Extra 25 East  began to roll eastwards again.

As the train disappeared Hamish walked over to the station office to find out what was going on. There he found Baldrick Bugbrooke, the station master, and Forbus Keyman, the telegraph operator, both evidently relieved to see the train and the special agents gone. “What’s this all about Baldie?” Hamish asked. Baldrick Roddis Bugbrooke was a notorious blabbermouth and also usually well informed; however Bugbrooke had received a severe warning from the security agents to keep his mouth shut. He only managed to croak out “Hamish, I’m not supposed to know and if I tell you they’ll shoot me, so I’ll have to tell you after the war’s over, it’s top secret”. Hamish was too tired to pursue the matter and was only too happy to see the last of the mystery train. Shortly afterwards the Geiranger crew reversed 5802 on the Nigel wye, took on water from the tower, and running light headed back down to Geiranger, where yet another pusher assignment awaited them, but certainly not with the tensions  experienced with Extra 25 East earlier that day.

Baldrick Bugbrooke did tell Hamish McGeachy about the mystery train, at a retirement party for Hamish and Sam in Clinemore in 1962. “Hamish, do you remember that day back in ’42, just before Christmas, when you hauled that mysterious consist up from Geiranger? It was supposed to be carrying barrels of stuff called “Heavy Illirium”, for use in a secret bomb. We found out later that was a fake load, to draw the attention of spies away from the real shipment. The real stuff went through on the CPR main line the same morning, as part of a troop train”.

“Well now,” said Hamish, turning to Sam Scroggins, “Sam, we were an important part in a secret weapons program - and I thought we were moving western gold reserves away from a possible Jap attack! Now that’s worth another pint from that crate of Cougar that good old Isambard shipped up from Kamloops.” Cougar Strong Ale, with its 7% alcohol content was a wartime scarcity. Sam heartily agreed, and they and their friends sat back and wiled away the rest of the day trading yarns until the last bottle of Cougar was gone.

THE END

Cast of Characters:

Hamish Quinbar McGeachy – Engineer, Geiranger

Leticia McGeachy – Hamish McGeachy’s wife, Geiranger

Sam Scroggins – Fireman, Geiranger

Danny McGrew – Conductor, Geiranger

Mike Yuhaz – Head-end Brakeman, Geiranger

Frenchy Gendron – Brakeman, Geiranger

Rufous Malarky Malspike – District Superintendent, Geiranger

Bertie Ironfist – Telegrapher, Geiranger

Fergus – Bertie’s dog, Geiranger

Horace Palfreyman – Engine Hostler, Geiranger

Dafyd Abergaster – Station Master, Geiranger

Rupert Abergaster – Crew Call-boy, Geiranger

Rhonda Abergaster – Engine Wiper, Geiranger

Phineas Farthing – Engineer, Rocky Mountain House

Fernie Raker – Fireman, Rocky Mountain House

Charlie Washhouse – Conductor, Rocky Mountain House

Baldrick Bugbrooke – Station Master, Nigel

Forbus Keyman – Telegrapher, Nigel

Isambard Dunstan Neuville – President and General Manager, GNRy, Kamloops



Monashees on the Grizzly Northern Railway!

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The Caribou News and Chronicle

Since 1909

Kamloops, British Columbia           Wednesday 16 April 1930               

Monashees on the Grizzly Northern Railway!

An enthusiastic crowd of 500, both railway people and townsfolk,  turned out yesterday at the Grizzly Northern’s Kamloops station to welcome the arrival of the railway’s latest major purchase, two enormous articulated steam locomotives, known as 2-6-6-2 “Mallets”. The two engines, Grizzly Northern No’s 8001 and 8002, purchased from their original owner, the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway, were delivered via Minneapolis and St Paul, Moose Jaw, and Calgary. Operating together the two Mallets had hauled Soo Line and Canadian Pacific railway freight trains of up to 120 box cars as they made their way north to their new home in Canada.

Mr. Artemius Vandonkers, Chairman of the Board of Directors and recently retired President and General Manager of the railway officiated at the welcoming ceremonies, together with Mr. Isambard Neuville, the Grizzly Northern’s President and General Manager. Mr. Vandonkers announced to much applause that the Grizzly Northern’s 2-6-6-2’s would be known as class T5, and following a poll of the railway’s employees, called “Monashees”, after the Monashee mountain range through which the Grizzly Northern mainline runs.

The two locomotives, built by American Locomotive Company in January 1923, have been bought to handle increased traffic on the 39 mile-long branch line between Geiranger, Brunel. and Kingdom, running through Horsefly Pass. Traffic on the branch line has been busy for years, servicing the coal mine at Brunel and the copper mine at Kingdom and has increased dramatically with the opening last year of the Goldsworthy coal mine near Brunel. The two Monashees will largely replace the much smaller 2-8-0 “Consolidations” that have serviced the route until now. Each Monashee is capable of handling heavy coal or ore trains that currently require two or three Consolidations on the 3 percent grades between Geiranger, Horsefly Summit and Kingdom.

Maudie-Ann Currie

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The Climb Over Horsefly Summit - September 1930

Tales From The Grizzly

 The Climb Over Horsefly Summit – September 1930

An early dawn sky on Tuesday 23 September 1930 in Kingdom, British Columbia. The temperature at 7:00 am was just above freezing. A strong wind chilled by the Prince Albert Glacier blew down on Kingdom from the east side of the valley, unbroken by the dark stunted spindly fir trees along the tree line. Patches of yellowing trembling aspens mixed with black firs brightened the otherwise grey mountainside. The intensely blue sky was unmarred, except for a large mass of dark grey nimbostratus clouds piling up to the far south, beyond Horsefly Summit. A small flock of bighorn sheep browsed  on a patch of alpine grass near the town, while higher up two mountain goats could be seen picking their way along a cliffside.

The town, population 500, located at 5,200 feet above sea level and below the western edge of the glacier, was home to the Kingdom Copper Mine. The mine lift house, buildings and mine rail sidings were located across the Yee Haw River from the town, a mile away and 500 feet higher, above the tree line. The Yee Haw’s headwaters flowed from the toe of the Prince Albert Glacier, the rapidly moving water coloured an opaque light grey from the large volume of fine glacial till in suspension. A railway spur line ran from the Grizzly Northern yards across the river and up to the mine.

Kingdom had only three streets – Railway Street and intersecting 1^st and 2^nd streets, surfaced with course gravel and tailings from the mine tip and bordered by rough wood plank sidewalks. The only commercial buildings of note were on Railway, on the opposite side of the street from the Grizzly Northern station and yard office. Typical of many western towns of that era the hastily constructed buildings were mostly of clapboard construction, with high false fronts and raised front porches. None of Kingdom’s buildings were painted, all beginning to weather into a grey like the mountainside above the town.

Commercial signs provided the only colour that relieved the monotonous grey that enveloped Kingdom:  “Hooper’s Grocery, General Store and Post Office”, “King’s Inn Boarding House –Viola Bloom Proprietress” and “Wong’s Sanitary Laundry and Barber Shop”. Kelley O’Brian’s “Victoria Café” was on 1^st Street, just around the corner from Harry Hooper’s store. “Pylyp’s Livery Stable and Blacksmith” shop was located behind Viola Bloom’s boarding house, on 2^nd street. The town was quiet at this hour except for the crow of a rooster from a home on 2^nd street, the clanging of Yuri Pylyp’s hammer as he worked on new horseshoes on  his anvil, the hiss and chuff of steam from engines in the railway yard and a low rumble coming from the mine operations across the river.

Southbound freight  (Extra Number One South) stood ready in the Kingdom freight yard, headed by Grizzly Northern No. 8001, one of two massive articulated 2-6-6-2 “Monashees” that had recently entered service on the 39 mile long Geiranger – Kingdom branch line. Wisps of steam issued from several points around the front and rear cylinder sets, a very pale plume of smoke and steam issued from the smokestack; periodically the thunk-thunk of the twin air compressors could be heard against the background muted roar of the smokestack blower.

Extra Number One South consisted of 25 40-ton hoppers, laden with copper ore destined for the concentrator at Geiranger, plus a van (caboose) at the end. No. 8001 would lift the 1,000 ton train up to  Horsefly Summit and down to Geiranger without pusher assistance, although speed would be limited due to the punishing grades and sharp curves on both sides of the summit.

The crew members who would handle Extra Number One South were Bart Beckerleg - engineer, Bart’s longstanding partner, Ben Locke - fireman, Moses McLeod -conductor, Erskine Brown - head-end brakeman and Oscar Plummer, as rear - end brakeman. Bart and Ben had been close buddies since the Great War*. Bart, his wife Felicia and their five children lived in a railway-owned clapboard house on 1^st  Street. Ben Locke and his wife Leonora lived across the street from the Beckerlegs, above the Victoria Café. The rest of the crew were boarders at Viola Blossom’s boarding house. Since the morning run down to Geiranger usually took just over four hours and as there normally was a consist of empty hoppers waiting to be brought up to Kingdom in the afternoon, the crew could expect to be home in time for their suppers.

* See Notes at end

Earlier that morning, starting at 4:00, engine hostler Ernie Sugden had been at work servicing No. 8001 outside the two-stall engine shed; building up the fire, which had been banked overnight, filling side rod lubrication pots, sand dome, coal bunker and water tank, and then parking the engine on the ready track, where the train crew would take charge.

About 6:15 am, after gathering together for a slap-up breakfast at Kelley O’Brian’s café, as was their Tuesday tradition, the train crew had straggled across the tracks to the yard office to check time pieces and pick up train orders. An 0-6-0 yard switcher crewed by Septimus Shad and Jean-Pierre Pellé had already marshalled the train consist. By 6:45 am the train crew had coupled their big Monashee to the consist and built up pressure in the train’s air brake lines.     

Bart Beckerleg climbed back into the engine cab following a final walk-around inspection. Ben Locke, was at work, having checked the water sight-gauges, and was now placing several well aimed shovels of coal in the firebox to adjust the fire-bed level. Although the mechanical stoker appeared to be working satisfactorily, Ben Locke was a perfectionist and liked to fine-tune his fire. Ben had already brewed a pot of coffee using a convenient ledge on the intensely hot firebox backhead. Erskine (Skinny) Brown joined Bart and Ben in the cab for a quick coffee, before heading for the rear-facing “doghouse” on the tender deck, from where he would keep an eye on the train. In contrast to his nickname Skinny was a man of generous proportions, weighing 250 pounds and 6 ft tall. He barely fit inside the tender doghouse.

Moses (Mo) McLeod and Oscar (Ozzie) Plummer walked back to the caboose, installed tail-end marker lanterns, checked supplies, including fusees, track torpedoes and lantern fuel, tucked away their lunches in the ice box (ice certainly was not in short supply in Kingdom), lit the pot-bellied stove and put on the kettle for a pot of tea. Both Mo and Ozzie  were dedicated tea grannies. They sat down to review and fill in various bits of paperwork while waiting for Bart Beckerleg to confirm all was ready up front.

The sun began to show over the Prince Albert Glacier just after 7:00 am. Bart Beckerleg gave two short blasts of the whistle and looked back for Mo McLeod to acknowledge readiness at his end of the train. Mo gave a highball wave of his lantern. Bart released engine and train brakes and gradually opened the throttle, with the Johnson bar in long cutoff, admitting steam to the two sets of cylinders in compound mode – high pressure to rear cylinders, low pressure to front cylinders. Later he would set the engine working in simple mode, high pressure to both front and rear cylinder pairs, to increase tractive effort on difficult stretches of track, at the expense of increased coal and water consumption.

The two sets of drivers briefly slipped on the damp rails, resulting in a series of staccato blasts from the smokestack before traction was gained and the exhaust settled down to a steady deep repetitive chuff. All coupler slack was pulled out gradually, the caboose began to move and Bart opened up the throttle to increase speed. Within several minutes the train was moving at 10 miles per hour as it left the Kingdom yard limits (Mileboard 39.0, i.e. 39 miles from Geiranger). The maximum speed reached on the 1,200 feet descent to Brunel, 8.6 miles to the south, would be 15 miles per hour due to the steep grades and sharp curvatures.

Brunel, Mileboard 30.4, at 4,000 feet above sea level was the site of the Brunel Coal Mine, source of fuel for the Grizzly Northern’s motive power. Extra Number One South rolled through Brunel without slowing, conserving momentum for the start of the 5.7 mile climb up the 3.3% grade to Horsefly Summit.

While the Yee Haw River continued its downwards course to its junction with the Running Bear River at Geiranger, from Brunel the rail line was forced to climb along the precipitous narrow canyon walls of Horsefly Pass, crossing back and forth across the river several times and through a number of closely spaced tunnels and a long snow shed in a section known as “Hades Door”, between French  , Mileboard 27.1, and the summit, Mileboard 24.7.

As the train continued to climb past French, the weather changed dramatically. The dark grey cloud mass that had been seen earlier swept over and down the mountains, bringing high winds, dropping temperature and rapidly falling heavy snow. Flashes of lightning lit up the dense clouds and thunderous crackling booms echoed up and down Horsefly Pass. A rapid sequence of cloud to ground lightning bolts crashed down just a few hundred yards ahead of the engine, the thunder shaking the entire engine. The crew were next startled by the sight of blue and violet coloured electrical flame-like discharges wicking upwards from the four pressure relief valves located at the boiler mid point. While they had heard of Saint Elmo’s Fire in connection with tall sailing ships, this was new to them insofar as railroading was concerned.  

Visibility ahead quickly dropped to no more than a dozen feet as the main brunt of the snow storm hit the train. The locomotive drivers began to lose transaction as ice build up was encountered on the rails. Bart Beckerleg turned on the rail sanders and cautiously juggled the Johnson bar and the throttle, however the drivers began to slip intermittently, first the front set, then the rear set. Train speed dropped to an agonizing five miles per hour or less, despite Bart’s best efforts.

Extra Number One South crawled into Horsefly Summit (altitude 5,070 feet above sea level) under whiteout conditions. Bart stopped the train with 8001 next to the small station house - barely visible from the cab. Both semaphore arms on the station mast were in down indicating “Stop” for trains in either direction. The passing track, the yard service track and the pusher turning wye were empty. No one was to be seen on the station platform, nor visible through the snow-plastered station windows.

Bart clambered down from the cab and staggered across the station platform, nearly being bowled over by the 50 mile-an-hour winds. Bursting into the station, followed by a gust of snow,  he was greeted by Silas Snoresby (station master) and Télesphore Titmouse (telegrapher) - both were astounded to see Bart, not having seen or heard 8001 roll up, given the force of the storm Silas excitedly exclaimed “Bart, Seamus O’Rourke at French says he’d felt a massive shaking and heard an enormous roar from Hades Door just after you passed his station and thought you must have been caught by a slide." He went on “The line is blocked by slides between Geiranger and Currie and it’s going to take a rotary and a crew to clear it. You guys better be prepared to spend the night here. Geiranger has directed that you not continue until further notice. At the rate this snow is falling they’ll need to run the rotary up here and through to Kingdom!”.

Snow drifts were piling up around the station and the train. Bart staggered back to 8001 to alert Ben Locke and Skinny Brown. A series of sharp whistle blasts and quick taps on the brake pipe pressure served to get  the attention of Moses McLeod and Ozzie Plummer in the caboose, a thousand feet to the rear. Moses and Ozzie rightly concluded that they should join the head end crew. Bart and Ben prepared 8001 for a lengthy unattended wait and closed up the cab as best they could against the blasting snow. Skinny managed to clamber up front and capped the smoke stack with the butt end of a 45 gallon drum, kept in the coal bunker – to conserve firebox and boiler heat. Moses and Ozzie staggered their  way up from the caboose, keeping hands on the hopper cars lest they get lost. Together now, the crew were only too ready to head for the warmth of the station office.

Apart from several utility and storage buildings the two story station was the only major structure sitting on the wind swept summit. Considering that the weather conditions at the summit were usually foul (snow, hail and heavy rain were not unusual in mid summer), the station was strongly built; apart from the usual office and storage facilities including under the one roof, a kitchen, coal and wood shed, and mercifully at the rear, a privy accessible without having to go outside. The kitchen pantry was always well stocked with basic provisions, in anticipation of the station being isolated at any time. Three rooms upstairs provided sleeping quarters for the resident station master and telegrapher and for any others overnighting for whatever reason – such as the just arrived crew from Extra Number One South.

Silas Snoresby, whose previous occupation had been a cook at the Palliser Hotel in Calgary, prepared a large stew in the kitchen while Télesphore and the others leaned in to help prepare supper. After eating and wash-up the crew settled down to wait out the storm, passing the time playing poker, catching a bit of sleep around the office’s pot bellied stove, or kipping out on double bunk beds in the large room upstairs. A bit of evening entertainment was provided by a good-old-fashioned sing-along, accompanied by Silas plunking on his guitar and Télesphore on a fiddle.

Silas and Télesphore had comfortable beds in their own rooms. The two were brothers-in law; their families lived down the line in Currie, Mileboard 15.6, an arrangement which suited them, since their respective wives, Temperance and Chastity, had tempers that lived up to their family name, which was Harridan. Despite that Silas and Télesphore managed to get to Currie often enough to inspire population growth there from time to time.

The telegraph key clattered away in the background, mainly repeating messages between Geiranger and Rocky Mountain House and head office in Kamloops. Télesphore kept an ear tuned and updated the others on the news as the day and night passed. It was evident that the rapidly moving and massive snow storm had caught everyone by surprise, heavy snow blocking the Grizzly Northern mainline at a number of points in the Running Bear Pass on either side of Geiranger, as well as on the branch line between Geiranger and Horsefly Summit.

Early Wednesday morning the skies began to clear. A message was received from Geiranger that a rotary plow train with work crew was on the way and expected to reach the summit about noon. Silas went to work on preparing breakfast while the train crew struggled out the door and through three feet of drifted snow to take stock of their train. Heavy snow was banked up against No. 8001, almost to the height of the cab floor and over the drivers.  Similarly the train itself was half covered by snow. It was obvious that they would have to wait for the rotary and the work crew to clear away enough snow to get them going again.  In any case there was also the question as to what state 8001’s firebox and boiler were in after standing for so many hours, even though the outside temperature had only dropped to 20 degrees F overnight.

Towards noon the relief train came into view, the rotary plow throwing a magnificent plume of snow many yards to the side of the right of way. Two 3900 series 2-8-0 Consolidations  provided the train’s motive power, trailing a  retired passenger coach occupied by the work crew of some twenty men. The rotary train paused at the station to let the work crew off to start work on clearing Extra Number One South, then continued northwards to Kingdom.

While Bart Beckerleg and Ben Locke cleared their way up and into the cab, Skinny Brown climbed over the banked snow to the top of the smoke box, where he retrieved the 45 gallon steel drum cap from the smoke stack. Only a thin layer of coal embers remained in the firebox and steam pressure had dropped to 90 lbs. Ben kindled a roaring fire with wood borrowed from the station wood pile;  followed that with strategically placed scoops of coal until a solid fire bed had been built up, then started the automatic stoker. Several hours would be required to get boiler pressure up to 210 lbs operating pressure. Bart did his engine  walk around inspection, checked gauges and kept an eye on the work crew as they cleared away No. 8001.  Mo McLeod and Ozzie Plummer, joined by Skinny Brown, began setting brake retainers on the hopper cars, after the work crews had cleared away enough snow on each car.

By 2:00 pm and in bright sunlight Extra Number One South was ready to roll south once more. Bart eased the train out of the summit yard and onto the 3.5% descending  grade, passing through Haig and on to Currie at ten miles per hour, car brakes smoking and squealing loudly. South of Currie the grade reversed, becoming a 0.8% climb through Joffre and Clemançeau to Geiranger.

Extra Number One South rolled into Geiranger just after 4:30 pm. The crew left the ore hoppers on the Monarch Mines ore concentrator service track, parked their van adjacent to the roundhouse and then turned No. 8001 over to hostler, Basil Palfreyman, who would service it ready for tomorrow’s work.

Booking off at the yard office at 5:30 pm, the crew headed over to Butterfly Wu’s “Raven Café” for supper, where they found other crews exchanging yarns about their experiences during the monster storm. They would spend the night at the YMCA bunkhouse, turning in early since the wake up call would come at 05:30 am Thursday morning. Then Extra Number One North would be ready to roll and another day would be spent on the Kingdom branch line, hopefully not quite as demanding as over the past two days.

 -000-

Notes:

Bartholomew (Bart) Joshua Beckerleg was born in England in 1882 and emigrated to Canada in 1904; then worked as a farmhand near Macklin, Saskatchewan. In August 1914, on the outbreak of the Great War he enlisted in the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF).

Benjamin (Ben) Aloysius Locke was born in St. Profiterole, Argenteuil County, Quebec, the son of  an Irish Canadian father and a French Canadian mother. Leaving the farm he join the CEF at Valcartier in early 1915.

Bart and Ben met for the first time in April 1917 during the battle of Vimy Ridge. They remained partners until discharged on return to Canada in 1919, and then afterwards, when they responded to  employment ads in 1921 seeking men to build and operate the Grizzly Northern’s branch line from Geiranger to Kingdom .

Cast of Characters:

Bartholomew  (Bart) Beckerleg-engineer, Benjamin (Ben) Locke-fireman, Moses (Mo) McLeod-conductor, Erskine (Skinny) Brown-head-end brakeman and Oscar (Ozzie) Plummer-rear-end brakeman. All in Kingdom

Felicia Beckerleg, Bart’s wife

Leanora Locke, Ben’s wife

Engine hostler Ernie Sugden, Kingdom

Septimus Shad and Jean-Pierre Pellé, Engineer and Fireman, Kingdom yard O-6-O

Viola Blossom, King’s Inn and Boarding House, Kingdom

Charlie Wong,  Wong’s Sanitary Laundry and Barber Shop, Kingdom

Kelley O’Brian, Victoria Café, Kingdom

Harry Hooper, Hooper’s Grocery, General Store and Post Office, Kingdom

Yuri Pylyps, Pylyp’s Livery Stable and Blacksmith, Kingdom

Silas Snoresby – Station Master, Horsefly Summit

Télesphore Titmouse – Telegrapher, Horsefly Summit

Temperance (Harridan) Snoresby – Silas’ wife, Currie

Charity (Harridan) Titmouse – Télesphore’s wife, Currie

Seamus O’Rourke – Telegrapher, French

Basil Palfreyman – Engine Hostler, Geiranger

Butterfly Wu – Proprietress of  Raven Café, Geiranger

Copyright ® R.T. Neuville, 2012