By Ed Lynch
Pikes Peak, the bold signature of Colorado Springs, is distinguished by many things: its geologic singularity, the marathon, the hill climb and the unusual cog railroad. A railroad going up to the summit of a mountain is odd enough, but what sets the cog railroad apart is the altitude (making it the highest scenic railway in the world) and the system of traction (the Abt rack system).
The motivating force of the railroad is a double cog wheel and corresponding rack rails. That is what you look at when you see the track. What most people call the cog, is actually two rack rails offset from each other by one tooth. The cog is the driving wheel of the engine and meshes with the rack to literally climb up Pikes Peak. Unlike standard railroads that rely on the adhesion of the driving wheels to the rail, the cog railroad climbs the rack.
When I was in high school, I worked on the section crew of the Manitou and Pikes Peak Railway (the official name at the time) for a couple of summers. At that time, the old work train, Car 20, was still in service. It was a strange hodge-podge of parts and a sight to behold. The frame was from a Pierce-Arrow touring car and the engine was a GMC six cylinder salvaged from an old train. This was hooked up to a LaSalle transmission, which connected to a chain drive to the cogwheel. The driver sat behind a wheel, which looked like a steering wheel but actually activated a brake. There was another wheel to his right, which was a parking brake. On the dashboard was a lever throttle, and coming up out of the floor was a single pedal which activated the clutch. Starting off from a stop was just like driving a stick shift on a steep hill. Give it gas with the parking brake on and ease out the clutch until it grabs. Then ease off the parking brake until the vehicle moves forward.
The main difference from a car was that to shift either up or down, the work car had to come to a complete stop. Stop, select the proper gear, and take off.
I remember one fellow being trained as a driver who absent-mindedly pushed in the clutch going down hill the same way one would driving a car. However, the work car, now essentially disconnected from the cogwheel, accelerated like it was shot from a cannon. One of my coworkers jumped off, and I was about to make the leap hot on his heels when the crew foreman got the rookie to let the clutch back out throwing me back towards the cab.
Ironically, that car met its end in a similar fashion. The driver was alone, the story goes, and hopped out after setting only the main brake, foregoing the parking brake. The work car took off like a rocket as the brake eased and eventually left the track, smashed into a rock and ended up in flames on a hillside somewhere up the canyon. No one was injured, but an illustrious chapter of the Cog Railway had ended.
I also had the opportunity to build a couple of grease pits for the Cog Railways shop several years after my original job on the section crew. Surprisingly little had changed in the two decades between encounters. They were preparing for their centennial celebration and were dusting off the last steam engine still running of their original eight. They also brought out the beautifully restored coach car. They would take both a short distance up the track replete with a carload of notable passengers in period dress.
I had the opportunity to ride in the cockpit of the steam engine. This one was still fired on coal and raised quite a cloud when it fired up. Once again, there was a trainee at the controls. His instructor was directing him to ease off the brake as he opened the steam valve. He was concerned about the train rolling backwards, but was assured by his mentor that the steam would catch up to it and not let it roll downhill. Meanwhile, I was looking for a soft place to land after I jumped, remembering my experience with the old work car. However, this time I could feel the power of the steam catching the train and pushing it forward. It was like the hand of God gently caught this several thousand pound car, brought it to a stop and slowly began pushing it forward. It was amazing how powerful but smooth the engine was.
The old timers on the Cog spoke reverently of the days when the new passenger trains arrived and the steam engines were used to plow snow. They said that they felt that if they kept pouring the steam to it, the engine would rip the rack rail right off the ties.
Incidentally, plowing snow was nearly an all season affair. One year that I worked there on the section crew, there were record snows sufficient to warrant reporters from the New York Times to come and take pictures of ten foot snow banks in June. They showed up with huge coats and snowshoes but neglected to bring sunglasses. The crew foreman gallantly loaned his to the photographer but paid for it by being snow blind the next day.
If you have never taken the Cog Railway, it is an interesting trip steeped in local history and taking you up a side of the peak not accessible from Barr trail or the toll road. In spite of the modern diesel-electric engines and comfortable coaches, I can’t help but think of how it must have been with the belching steam engine and old cherry and mahogany coaches with red velvet seats.
