Mapping The Switzerland Trail and the Colorado Central

On many trips up Clear Creek Canyon and Boulder Canyon, I had gotten glimpses of the old railroad grades. Above Sunset on each wall of Fourmile Canyon, the grades of the old Switzerland Trail serve as the roads to Gold Hill and Sugarloaf Mountain. I had thumbed through the copy of Forrest Crossen's "The Switzerland Trail of America" retained by the Boulder High School library. Uncle Mark had sent me a copy of the Colorado Railroad Annual detailing the rise and fall of the Colorado Central. So when it came time to select a project for my Local History class, I instantly resolved to create maps of the current status of those grades. I mapped out the grades of the Switzerland Trail first, and saved the Colorado Central for later.

This project meant that on almost every weekend, I needed to be out taking notes and photographs so that I could construct my maps. I made sketches of the grades as I traced them out, and made an effort to walk along them where they were passable. I kept notes in a photo log, detailing when and where I had taken each picture. I used these to create the map and slide presentation for each half of the project.

On the grade in Boulder Canyon
The cut for the wagon road is visible

I started by mapping out the grade in the mouth of Boulder Canyon. There was a cluster of cottages that had been built right on top of the old grade, so my first challenge as to reach the grade somewhere upstream. I put my bike on my shoulder and hiked up the wall of the canyon to try to reach the wagon road. 

As I was doing so, I lost my footing. To regain my balance, I deliberately hurled my bicycle downhill. The uphill impulse generated by that move kept me from falling over and injuring myself. In that circumstance the bike was expendable. I examined the bike after I scrambled down to retrieve it, and found it was none the worse for wear.

Pipes resting on the original stonework

In that lower section of the canyon, the railroad grade has been repurposed as a pipeline right-of-way. That change of use left in place the original 1883 stonework as attested by the cornerstone on the abutment.

I continued walking up the grades of lower Boulder Canyon. Just at the mount of Fourmile Canyon, I saw some pilings in the creek. I thought that thes might be from a trestle that had spanned the creek. Period photographs in Forest Crossen's book showed this to be wrong, they were uprights of a weir that had been installed (complete with catwalk), to make it easier for tourists to fish.

Pilings for the fishing weir

On my first day out, I did not get much further than that. I remember climbing the hill near Chrisman and then turning around. Still, it must have been a very mild winter if I was out cycling the hills around Boulder in January and February.

My next trip out, I rode up Fourmile Canyon past the place I had turned back. As the road levelled out, I was able to bike a bit faster, but I had to slow down wherever the road was in the shadows. The sun had long since dried the pavement where it was out in the open, but there were patches of ice in the shady spots.

When I reached the end of the pavement near Black Swan, I was accosted by two dogs. There was a German shepherd and a St. Bernard. I dismounted and let the St. Bernard come up and be petted while the German shepherd stood about 20 feet away barking. Over the head of the friendly St. Bernard, I yelled "growf" at the other dog, who took off back up the road, turned and continued barking from 60 feet away. I walked up the road until the dogs went back into their yard. Then I mounted up and continued on my way.

D&RGW Caboose near Black Swan

I wanted to actually walk on the grades where the existed, to get a better idea of their condition and also what had been built on top of them. In some places, this meant ignoring No Trespassing signs and traversing private property. At one place in upper Fourmile Canyon, I passed a caboose (evidently private property) that was in remarkably good repair. I found out that it had been purchased from the D&RGW and installed there only two years before.

The grade there was in the shadows and drifted with snow. It was pretty heavy going for several miles approaching Sunset, slogging through drifts, and sinking into the snow with my bike on my shoulder. I probably did not get beyond Sunset that day, because I remember riding downhill through the icy patches on the same road.

The Alpenmeister in a drift

My next time out, I rode to Sunset and turned up the Ward Branch of the grade toward Gold Hill. That grade is on the south-facing slope, so it was clear of snow all the way up. Past the crest of the hill, the Switzerland Trail turns into a jeep road. It continues along the north side of the ridge. After a mile or so, the grade was blocked by snowdrifts. This was no problem for me: I just pushed the bike through the drifts or hoisted it on my shoulder and walked across the snow. 

The grade at Puzzler

Most of the road was dry, so in spite of the drifts I made good time up to where the new road between Gold Hill and Ward cuts across (and buries) the old railroad grade. I scrambled up the embankment, across the Gold Hill Road and down the other side. Beyond that point, the grade was in the trees and drifted full of snow. By picking my steps carefully, I could walk across the frozen surface without postholing. 

The grade just below Ward,
viewed from the Highway

As I approached Ward, however, the snow was softer. I was breaking the surface with every step. But the grade there is just below the Peak-to-Peak Highway. I abandoned the bike and traversed the last 500 yards to Ward by crawling. Then I walked back down the highway and went cross-lots to retrieve the bike. I probably rode down Lefthand Canyon to get back to Boulder by the fastest route.

The next time out, my intention was to map out the Eldora Branch. I rode up Fourmile Canyon to Sunset and this time turned south toward Sugarloaf. The road was dry and I easily reached the top of the grade where it turns west just below Sugarloaf Mountain. To get a better view, I hiked to the top of the mountain and took pictures back down the grade toward Sunset, and off in the direction of Eldora.

Both Branches from Sugarloaf Mountain

I continued along Sugarloaf Road up toward the Peak-to-Peak Highway. I could trace out the old grade visually for most of the way. Just before reaching the highway, however, I lost sight of it. It took me some time to find the old grade and where the highway crosses it. Land on the west side of the highway was fenced off as a ranch, so I couldn't traverse the exact route. But almost all of it was piled deep in snow. It would have taken me days to go the dozen miles from there to Eldora.

The Eldora Branch from Sugarloaf Mountain

Instead, I traced the route visually. Most of the grade is easily visible from the Highway. When I got close to Nederland, I turned up the Eldora road, so I could see where the grade crossed the ridge and came up to Eldora. And so, the "on the ground research" part of that project was done. I could turn my attention next to the Colorado Central.

The narrow gauge to Central City and Silver Plume used to run straight out of Arvada toward the mouth of Clear Creek Canyon. It's likely that the Colorado Railroad Museum is on the original route through Golden. But I did not bother with that part. I was interested only in the grades in the mountainous section. It must have been during the summer of 1975 that I had completed my epic 156 mile bike ride that included hiking the Georgetown Loop. I could draw from memory the condition of that branch of the line, which allowed me to focus on the branch that served Central City and Black Hawk.

A surviving trestle (probably restored)

I was also interested in the condition of the grades in the lower part of Clear Creek Canyon -- below the junction with Colorado 72. Seeing the grades through the window of a car passing by is one thing. But to accurately map where the grades were and show their current condition, biking and hiking were better suited.

The day I chose to map out the lower section, it was overcast. But that was no worry to me; I expected that the mapping task would take only a few hours. Then, I would ride north to Nederland and coast down Boulder Canyon to reach home.

Abandoned rails in Clear Creek

Most of the grades in the canyon had been buried by the construction of US 6. Where the grade was exposed, I got down on it and biked or hiked along it as well as I could. Early in the trip, I tried to ride through a small stream where a trestle was missing. Instead, my front wheel caught on a rock and I went over the handlebars into the stream. "Whoo-hah!" Nothing will wake you up quite like doing a face-plant in ice-cold mountain stream water. I splashed across, and continued hiking on the other side, but it was quite a while before my jacket dried out.

About the time I reached the fork where CO 72 starts, it began to snow. That also was no problem. I had been commuting to school by bicycle -- 3 miles each way each day -- in all kinds of weather for over a year. Just the same, I thought I should abandon the project for that day and put my effort into getting home. As I rode past Central City, the snow began to stick.A fellow in a tan pickup gave me a ride from there as far as the top of the hill near Colorado Sierra.

After he dropped me off, I noticed that my chain was icing up. Quite soon, I was unable to ride, so I pushed the bike along a mile or so until I arrived at the fire station in Colorado Sierra. The firemen let me stand with my bike in the heated bay until the chain unfroze. I tried calling home from the fire station, but I got no answer. So I set off again toward Nederland. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon by then.

My chain froze up again almost immediately. I ended up pushing the bike up the hills and coasting down the hills. It was pretty slow going. It took me two hours to go the 8 miles from Colorado Sierra to Rollinsville. From the inn in Rollinsville, I called home to report my progress. It's only a few miles up over the hill between Rollinsville and Nederland. I was confident that once I reached Nederland it would be smooth sailing. I would not need to pedal while coasting down Boulder Canyon. I estimated I could be back in town by 8:30 at the latest. I would just press on.

"Stay where you are," I was told. Dad and Peter had already left the house to come and rescue me. They had gotten word before they left that Boulder Canyon had been closed by the snowstorm, so their plan was to trace the route I had taken and return the same way. I waited and waited and waited. Just when I imagined I might be spending the night sitting next to the phones, Dad and Peter finally showed up. It was well past dark when they arrived. We had dinner in the cafe, and I got to hear the story of how they had ditched the van a mile or so back up the road. Some nice person had given them a ride the rest of the way.

Staying in the Inn in Rollinsville was pretty exciting. Every hour or so, another train would go thundering by just outside the front of the motel. By morning, the storm had passed, the sun was out, the plows had been through and the snow was starting to melt. After breakfast, another guy in a Jeep gave us a ride back to the van. He used chains in the 4WD to pull the van back onto the road. Dad paid him for his assistance, and off we went. Since it was Monday morning, Dad dropped me off at the high school after driving down Boulder Canyon. I had only missed my first two classes.

To complete my project, I was given the use of the car. In the process of hiking the Georgetown Loop the previous year, I had seen that there was a project under way to restore the loop and open it as a tourist attraction. They had already laid about 3 miles of rail and were planning to build a replica of the high iron bridge. I expected this section of the Colorado Central to be fully restored, but I returned to Georgetown to inspect the progress, and also to find out where the grade left the city at the lower end of the loop.

A few weeks later, I returned to map out the Black Hawk branch. I was given the use of the VW beetle on that occasion -- a precaution I suppose against a repeat of the Rollinsville saga. It was also snowing on that day, but the air was warm enough there was little chance that it would stick.

Ghost Ties

As I hiked the switchback above Central City, I saw something amazing. It appeared that there were railroad ties made out of snow lying across the grade. I knew that the rails had been pulled up in 1945, so I wondered what it could be. I finally figured out that where the ties had been, the weight of the passing trains had compressed the roadbed, giving it a higher thermal capacity. The snow stuck where the ties had been because those stripes of ground were still cold from the overnight low. In between the "ghost ties" the warmer air had already melted the snow.

The grade into Black Hawk

I hiked the grade all the way into Black Hawk. Then I walked down the paved road to where I'd left the VW at the junction. It was raining when I got back to the car, so I drove home the fastest way -- through Golden.

For my presentations, I mapped out each of the grades on poster paper, using a different color of pen to represent the disposition of the grade along that segment. I showed where the grade was visible and accessible, where it ran through private property, where it had washed out, where it had been converted into a road, where it had been buried by another road and so on. For my presentation on the Switzerland Trail, I showed my slides alongside the map, pointing out what portion of the grade was visible and where each picture had been taken. For the Colorado Central presentation, I didn't have enough slides for a slide show, so I just presented the map.

I was told that both maps would be given to the Boulder Public Library for their local history collection. I hope they are still in some dark drawer there, waiting to be re-discovered by another narrow gauge enthusiast.

Southwest Colorado, October 1973

The parents decided that they would take the three younger kids for a tour of Southwest Colorado -- being possibly more educational than attending classes at the Junior High or grade school. Sarah and Paul were left behind, to attend classes and take care of the dog.

Mom and Peter, Lookout Mountain(?)

Lise and the Dodge Van

The first day, we drove out I-70 through Genesee Park behind Lookout Mountain. We made a brief stop which may be the backside of Lookout Mountain. 

The Climax Mine

We drove on to Dillon and then South over Fremont pass to Leadville. At the top of Fremont Pass is the Climax Molybdenum Mine. My father never passed up the opportunity to disparage the operation and demonstrate how it was destroying the mountain to extract the ore. He had some admiration for the mining engineers who managed to extract the ore while collapsing the mountain above it, but it was clear he disliked the operation on the whole.

Mount Massive

From Leadville, we drove south past Mount Massive and Mount Elbert to Twin Lakes. Then, we headed west over Monarch Pass through Aspen and Snowmass. It may have been faster to go through Glenwood Springs, but Monarch Pass usually has some nice displays of turning aspen. I think Dad chose the route for that reason. and finally south to Redstone. I had thought that we stopped at the trail to Hanging Lake in Glenwood Canyon, but we could not logically have gone there on the same trip. 

From a Gravel Pit, near Redstone?

We stayed in Redstone for the night. We got to Redstone early enough that there was time for a walk after dinner. The whole of Redstone is about 4 blocks long, so it didn't take us long to reach the other end. We saw a sign on the gate there, and I was impressed that Dad could read the Spanish on it even though I knew he had not studied Spanish. He had however studied Latin, so it was not too hard for him to reason out its meaning.

On the way back, we met a woman who was out walking her dog. The dog was a wreck: missing a foreleg and blind in one eye. There was a big grey scar running up most of the length of his other foreleg. Evidently, he had been hit by a car at some time in the past. What impressed me about this dog was he seemed happy. He was gentle and allowed himself to be petted. Getting around on three legs was okay with him, and he couldn't feel sorry for himself that he was not complete.

Poplars along the Gunnison River

The next day, we started out from Redstone and went over McClure Pass. The aspen were turning and it was a glorious day. I was glued to the windows as we passed miles of scenery. We passed Paonia Reservoir, whose presence seemed at odds with the western Colorado desert. Some ways further on, Dad stopped to photograph Mt. Sneffels in the distance.

Mount Sneffels

The second night, we stayed at a condo in Telluride. The town was being built out as a ski area, but it was off-season and hadn't really been discovered yet. We got to Telluride late enough that the sun was already setting. I remember the slanting rays accentuating the relief in the wall of rock that is the southern face of the canyon.

Looking east from Telluride

In the morning, we drove through the town and attempted to get as close as possible to Bridal Veil Falls. There is a jeep road that reportedly goes over the ridge -- east from Telluride to Ouray. Three miles via jeep and 60 miles via the highway. In any case, the road was impassible for the van at just about the first turn, so we had to admire the falls from a distance. Driving to Ouray that way was clearly out of the question.

Looking south from Telluride

After that, we drove over Lizard Head Pass toward Cortez. I think we stayed in Cortez for the night.

Lizard Head Pass

The Lizard Head

The next day, we visited Hovenweep National Monument. To reach there, we drove for miles and miles on a dirt road. We kept the windows closed so the back of the van would not fill up with dust. Looking back, we could see our plume of dust stretching back 10 miles across the desert. Dad made the comment that there were no great deductive powers implied by the movie scene where the native American chief looks out and announces, "White man coming". Our progress was obvious to anyone within hundreds of square miles.

The ruins at Hovenweep National Monument

I remember having a picnic lunch near the parking lot at Hovenweep.Then it was back in the van and on to the next attraction.

I think Dad was not particularly keen on seeing the Four Corners, but there were enough votes that we made the 2 mile detour from the highway to have exist in 4 different states simultaneously. Like visiting the geographic center of the country, it's worth doing exactly once.

Onward and southward. I have this record shot of Shiprock, so we must have been headed toward Farmington, NM. I don't recall whether we stayed there for the night, but I do recall buying a turquoise and silver ring while we were there.

Shiprock

It is possible that we returned to Durango the same day. In any case, we ended up at a restaurant in Durango after dark. I remember ordering a 14" pizza, which seemed like an extravagance at the time. However, it played a role in our adventure. We had not arrived early enough to get tickets for the Durango-Silverton train, and that was a big part of our plans. Mom was in a bad mood -- plausibly because our plans were in peril, so I resolved to rescue the operation by getting up early and being first in line at the ticket office when they opened the following morining. I had cold pizza for breakfast before leaving the motel room.

Steaming up in Durango

I think I left the motel about 6am and the station opened up at 8. It was pretty darn cold waiting out on the open platform for those two lonely hours. But in the end it was worth it. The rest of the family showed up in time, we secured tickets for the excursion, and had a memorable time riding the narrow gauge through mountains painted with turning aspen trees.

Turning on the Blowers

We stopped at the level crossing north of Durango the next morning to watch the excursion train pass by. As we watched, the locomotive started to put out an impressive plume of black smoke. For years, I though that the engineer had just done this for show. But what is more likely is that he turned the blowers on for the last level stretch before the steep climb began. He'd need the extra steam for climbing up the Animas Canyon.

The narrow gauge line in the Animas River Gorge is spectacular -- clinging to the rock face 100' or more above the river. The highway takes a different route, so it really gives the feeling of riding the train at a time when it was the only mechanized transporation available.

Animas Canyon

During the first part of the trip, I spent a lot of time walking backward and forward through the train, trying to find the perfect view. Most of the platforms were occupied by other train enthusiasts, camera in-hand.

The last car of the train was an open gondola. One really got the full experience of early train travel there, since a stead rain of ash fell on the occupants throughout. One fellow had stationed himself at the center of the rear car, and was filming the trip with a Super8 movie camera held upside-down. He explained that by turning the processed film end-for-end, it would appear that he was at the front of the train moving in the other direction.

Along the Animas River

In the gorge, we passed a waterfall that was so close, it almost seemed like one could reach out and touch it. It was hidden by the surrounding foliage, and the rainy weather made it seem darker and more mysterious. It passed the left side of the train quickly, so I imagined I was one of the few people on board to have seen it. I resolved to try to photograph those falls on the return trip.

Magic Waterfall

Before we descended into the gorge on the return trip, the train stopped to pick up backpackers who had been out hiking in the San Juans. The magic falls seemed more accessible, since I imagined returning and hiking to them at some future time.

The train made a stop for water about halfway up. Passengers were invited to step off the train to take posed pictures of the engine at the water tank (and smokers to grab a smoke). I did not want to be left behind, so I did not try to run up to the front of the train. I was happy enough to get a shot of the water tank from close to the rear of the train.

San Juan Mountains

The rest of the trip was view after view of the train and tracks winding beneath steep mountainsides. The canyon finally widens out onto a flat area about a mile square, on which is situated the town of Silverton. Passengers were encouraged to spend freely in the tourist shops there and reassemble in time for the return trip. In the mean time, the train was run off onto a wye, and turned around for the downhill run.

I remember spending some time in the jewelry stores there But everything seemed expensive, so I did not bring back any souvenirs. I did expose 3 rolls of film, one of which was purchased in the drugstore there, and that has proven more than enough to cement the memories in my brain.

After we were able to get tickets for the train ride, it was probably a foregone conclusion that we would stay in Durango another night. A proposal to drive from Durango to Ouray in the dark would have been vetoed instantly. According to legend we had already done that. It must have been either during the summer (1966) that we spent in Boulder while Dad was visiting at the High Altitude Observatory, or during the first year (1969-1970) that Dad worked at NCAR -- before the VW van was replaced by the Dodge. I vaguely remember staring anxiously at the road ahead -- illuminated only by the VW's headlights. Periodically, a yellow hairpin turn sign would emerge from the gloom while the road snaked this way and that.

The Million Dollar Highway

Lime Creek and Twilight Mountain

This time in contrast, we made the trip from Durango to Ouray in the daytime -- and it was glorious. The hairpin turn signs were still there, but they were no long the main attraction. We made this stop at Lime Creek, to snap photos of Twilight Mountain.

Years later, I saw a camera ad boasting the ruggedness of their camera, which supposedly took the shot at -30F. The view accompanying the add was from the same location. "I know where that is."

Even though it is only about 60 miles from Durango to Ouray, it seemed like an all-day trip to do the drive. All the twists and turns probably limit the average speed to around 30mph. It seemed like it was late afternoon when we checked into our motel in Ouray.

Box Canyon in Ouray

Whether it was the same morning or the next day, we hiked to the head of Box Canyon to view the falls. I'm sure I enjoyed the scenery on the return trip, but that was the end of my roll of film.