Summit of Continental Divide, at Donald siding, Pipestone Pass, Montana – 1973 – We have at least three things going on here. The eastbound freight will soon descend about 2 thousand feet into the Jefferson River valley. The grade is a steep 2% compensated. The 3-unit set of boxcab helpers were apparently on the point climbing out of Butte, and not needed for regenerative braking. They ducked into the siding when the train stopped, it’s nose barely out of the tunnel, just out of view to the left. The Speeder (putt-putt) will follow the train vigilantly watching as a fire preventive.
During fire season down bound trains were shadowed by water-equipped speeders. Even with the motor/units up front applying regenerative braking some air-brake use is often needed. That involved brake shoes pressing on spinning wheels, with sparks always swirling along the right-of-way.
This scene was in the Summer of 1973 at Donald, the summit of Pipestone Pass and the Continental Divide. The train climbed out of the Clarks Fork River drainage that leads to the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean. Ahead the train drops into the Missouri River watershed leading to the Mississippi and Gulf.
The helper crew, Engineer Fred Coombes and Fireman Del Hart are still in the cab hidden by the boxcar. Del Hart is the former engineer that wrinkled up the Little Joe E-78 in Sixteen Mile Canyon on May 23, 1966. Hart was fired, rehired after good union representation, but restricted to fireman status on the Butte Helper, only. He eventually retired from that position, and has since passed. I knew both Coombes and Hart. Coombes lived in Butte, Hart had a place about half way up the pass adjacent to the mainline.
Coombes was #1 seniority in the division, and a fellow church member. He knew I was an avid railfan, but straight-laced as he was, he never even let me up in the cab the many times I saw him hooking up and trekking over the pass. He retired when the electrics ended in 74, and moved to Seattle with his wife of many years. I once asked him why as #1 on engineer’s roster that he didn’t bid on some glamorous hotshot freight run. With a twinkle in his eye he stated; “ I sleep in my own bed every night.”
In a year the Milwaukee electrics will be history, and in 1980 the entire system west of the Red River of the North will shut down. The roadway behind the helper is Old US Highway 10, by then downgraded by I-90, about 7 miles the way the crow flies to the north. The Milwaukee Road favored bay-window type caboose, and the tri-level auto racks are open to the elements. Why they are now completely enclosed, and the wreck of the E-78 are stories for another time. – Gary O. Ostlund