WaltersRail

Day	Observations	Codes
Thu, Feb 1	Thunderstorm in the Vicinity, Rain, Light Rain, Light Drizzle	VCTS, RA, -RA, -DZ
Fri, Feb 2	Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-RA, -DZ
Sat, Feb 3	Light Rain	-RA
Sun, Feb 4	Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-RA, -DZ
Mon, Feb 5	Rain, Light Rain, Light Drizzle	RA, -RA, -DZ
Tue, Feb 6	Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-RA, -DZ
Wed, Feb 7	Rain, Light Rain	RA, -RA
Thu, Feb 8	Light Snow, Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-SN, -RA, -DZ
Sat, Feb 17	Light Rain	-RA
Sun, Feb 18	Light Rain	-RA
Mon, Feb 19	Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-RA, -DZ
Tue, Feb 20	Light Rain, Light Drizzle	-RA, -DZ
Wed, Feb 21	Rain, Light Rain	RA, -RA
Tue, Feb 27	Haze	HZ

https://weatherspark.com/h/m/1757/2024/2/Historical-Weather-in-February-2024-in-Mojave-California-United-States#Figures-ObservedWeather

Average February rainfall is approximately 1.5 inches. To say that this is the "wettest" month, of course, implies a comparison, as do all adjectives. "Tall" implies a comparison to something shorter. If everyone were the same height, no one would be tall. Nor would anyone be short. The same for "happy," "disturbed" or any other adjective you can think of. In this case, wettest means compared to June, when average rainfall is zero. May and July are not much better, when average precipitation is 0.1 inches each month.

For an average year, the Mojave Desert will see about five or six inches of rain, almost all of which falls in the winter. Some years, however, almost no rain falls.

Westbound stacks race across the Mojave Desert between Ludlow and Daggett.

Lack of precipitation and the saline content of this dry lake bed explain the lack of vegetation in the image above. These BNSF stacks might be rolling across the moon, so barren is the environment. About the only thing that will grow in this desert outside the salt flats is the creosote bush, and even this hardy specimen struggles when the temperature rises above 100 degrees Farenheit for a rainless 100 or more days.

Known scientifically as Larrea Tridentata, this shrub dominates the Mojave as thoroughly as the Yankees once dominated the Dodgers. In spring after winter rain, its small yellow flowers dot the land like fireflies. When a rare summer rain falls, the creosote bush releases a fragrance neither particularly pleasant nor unpleasant, but unmistakeable all the same. When you first smell it, you will forever after associate it with the desert.

Creosote bushes keeping silent watch on westbound stacks.

Z Train swallowed by the dessert.

Trains meeting at Newberry Springs.

BNSF's Transcon crosses the Mojave with some of the most dramatic railroading in North America. In the stretch from Ludlow to Daggett, trains in both directions climb grades and race through valleys beneath mountains of granite and lava bereft of vegetation, giving the impression that nothing has ever grown on these peaks during the multi-billion year history of our planet.

ggg

https://freeworldmaps.net/united-states/california/map.html

The above image clearly shows the Transcon running more or less parallel to I-40, as well as the massive dark lava flows from the several volcanoes that once erupted across this desolation. From such height, the image does not do justice to the gradients trains encounter in both directions, but it does give a feel for the rugged mountains that rise one after another like the ridges on a washboard -- if anyone reading this is old enough to remember what a washboard might be. The Transcon navigates between and around those ridges like water flowing downhill on the path of least resistance.

The Mojave Desert is located mostly in southeastern California and southern Nevada, with small portions protruding into Arizona and Utah. Covering approximately 48,000 square miles, the Mojave is the smallest desert in North America and also the driest, mostly because it lies in the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada.

https://mojavedesert.net/introduction.html

Rain shadows develop on the leeward side of mountains, which face away from prevailing winds. In the case of the Mojave, warm water evaporates off the Pacific Ocean, rises into the atmosphere and is blown eastward onto land where it hits the Sierra Nevada and is driven upward into much cooler, dryer air. When warm moist air hits cool dry air, water molecules in the air condense and fall to the ground as rain, or snow if cold enough, almost all of which is discharged before the Pacific air reaches the top of the mountains. The same process occurs when warm moist air from a bathroom shower mixes with cool dry air outside the shower and condenses on mirrors.

Once across the mountain summit, the Pacific air flows downgrade and is compressed and heated, producing winds that absorb moisture, creating a dry "shadow" that receives little rain and is called the Mojave Desert.

A westbond Z Train in the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada.

The Mojave Desert is bounded by the Sierra Nevada to the west, the Colorado Plateau to the east, the Great Basin to the north, and the Sonoran Desert to the south and features some of the most extreme geography imaginable. At its lowest point, the lowest in North America, Death Valley is 282 feet below sea level -- thanks to the continual rise of the Sierra Nevada. As the mountains climb, the land to the east sinks like a teeter-totter. Thus, the highest point in the lower 48 states -- Mount Whitney at 14,505 feet -- is only 85 miles away.

The desert plants have changed since the last ice age, about 10,000 years ago, when the northern hemisphere was cooler and wetter. Pinyon pines and junipers flourished in the valleys around freshwater lakes that have long since dried into saline depressions. As the climate warmed, these trees retreated to higher elevations, allowing more heat and drought-tolerant plants to settle into the lowlands.

Besides creosote bushes, the most common plants in this desert are Joshua trees and cholla cacti. Between Ludlow and Daggett, cholla are randomly interspersed among the creosote bushes like an occasional freckle. If you run into one, multiple long spines will impale themselves through your pants and into your skin, and more often than not part of the plant will come along for the ride. Removing cholla spines can require pliers and is painful. Your author speaks from personal experience.

Your author has not seen any Joshua trees in the valleys between Ludlow and Daggett. He thinks he may have spotted some on the slopes and peaks surrounding the lowlands, but he is not certain.

Cholla
http://www.outdoorproject.com/adventures/california/special-destinations/cholla-cactus-garden

Joshua Trees
https://www.tripsavvy.com/joshua-tree-national-park-4116596

Westbound past another dry lake bed.

Deep in the Mojave Desert.

Manifests are infrequent on this intermodal raceway.

This particular stretch of the desert begins at Ludlow, California, today just an exit off I-40 with one gas station and one rundown restaurant always closed whenever your author drives through. The remnant of a once thriving society fallen to ruin, Ludlow began in the 1870's as a water stop on the Southern Pacific Railroad and was named after William Ludlow, one of the company's civil engineers. About the time that the SP and the Santa Fe were fighting over which company should control the tracks through the desert, gold, silver and copper were discovered in the surrounding mountains, and fortune-seekers poured into the desert like flood waters. At one time, Ludlow supported a school and several saloons, cafes and general stores.

In the 1920's, U.S. Route 66 was constructed, connecting Chicago, Illinois, to Santa Monica, California. For the most part, this magical road followed the railroad through the Mojave, and Ludlow became a strategic stop for tourists and truckers seeking relief from the desert. For a brief moment, Ludlow reached the critical mass necessary for a village to survive.

Everything changed with the coming of Interstate 40. Although the new super highway ran almost directly beside the small settlement, the trek across the desert was no longer an endurance contest. Before the interstate, travel in the Mojave was slow and tedious as autos piled up on the two lanes of Route 66 behind slow moving trucks and/or old men in old cars driving slightly faster than a young man can walk. Vehicles and tires were not particularly well made in those days. Tires with inner tubes often went flat. Engines often broke down. Repair shops often were as ethical as politicians. Some would pour sawdust into a crankcase rather than oil, causing the engine to die a few miles out of town. If you want a more detailed description, read John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath.

On the interstate with its wide four lanes, slow traffic could be passed on any section of the road. Speeds doubled, tripled -- even more for those without fear. It became possible to cross the Mojave in a few hours rather than a day or more. Once air conditioning became ubiquitous in vehicles, the Mojave posed no greater challenge than Illinois.

Ludlow withered rapidly. People moved away; stores closed; dust moved in; buildings collapsed. An earthquaked in the early 21st century finished off what little was left.

It is a constant of American life that human structures can appear and then disappear almost overnight. To someone from a world with thousands of years of history -- the Orient or Europe or Africa, for example -- the time span of America seems unimaginably brief. To those of us who have lived our whole lives here, a hundred years seems an eternity. Look what happened to Ludlow in one hundred years.

Stacks gliding downgrade to Ludlow.

Westbound oil across the desert valley.

Container traffic on this railroad is non-stop.

Congress authorized the creation of the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad in 1866 to run roughly from St. Louis to the western boundary of Missouri, then southwest to a point on the Canadian River in what became Oklahoma, then west to Albuquerque on the Rio Grande, then along the 35th Parallel to the Colorado River, and finally on to the Pacific Ocean. It sounds simple but was anything but.

Congress granted the newly formed private corporation a right-of-way through public lands 100 feet wide on each side of the tracks, plus land for stations, shops and depots -- all tax exempt.

In theory, the A&P would have competed with the Union Pacific in a race across the western continent, and again in theory, the A&P should have prevailed, for its route was far less rugged through territory bereft of the winter weather that plagued Sherman Hill and Donner Pass. But in 1876, the railroad defaulted on bond payments, not having laid track beyond the Missouri border, and was sold in judicial proceedings to William F. Buckley -- not the late essayist and television personality -- who then transferred all interest to the St. Louis and San Francisco Railway.

In 1879, the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad began negotiations with the Frisco to divide the A&P, and by the Tripartite Agreement of 1880, one half of the stock of the A&P then owned by the Frisco was transferred to the Santa Fe. Under the agreement, the Santa Fe, which had already reached Albuquerque by a northerly route through Raton Pass, would begin construction as the Atlantic and Pacific Western Division through western New Mexico and Arizona to California, while the Frisco, operating as the A&P Eastern Division, would complete construction through Missouri and on to Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle and the Rio Grande in New Mexico.

In 1881, Jay Gould and Collis Huntington purchased a controlling interest in the Frisco, which gave them control of one-half the stock of the A&P. Gould's interest was merely financial, but Huntington (who ran the Southern Pacific like a potentate) intended to preserve his empire by preventing the Atlantic and Pacific Western Division from crossing the Colorado River and entering California.

The Southern Pacific then began construction of a line from Mojave, California -- a station on the line from the Central Valley to the Los Angeles Basin -- eastward to the Colorado River. Meanwhile, the A&P continued westward through Flagstaff, Williams, Ash Fork and Kingman in Arizona Territory.

SP dispatched civil engineer William Hood and a crew of 30 men aboard a steamboat appropriately named Mojave and sent them to Needles, California, to survey a railroad route west across the desert. Another crew was transported by rail across Tehachapi Pass to Mojave, California, at the eastern base of the Transverse Ranges to begin working eastward.

Surveying proceeded rapidly, and dirt work from Mojave followed in February 1882. Lest you think that construction commenced in the middle of winter, remember that this is the Mojave Desert, and February, though the wettest month, also boasts generally comfortable temperatures -- especially for men constructing a railroad.

The Kern Weekly Register, a newspaper out of Bakersfield, consistent with the racism of 19th century America, reported:

A carload of Chinamen, 60 head, arrived at Mojave station Saturday. They are expected to gobble up the Atlantic and Pacific, scales, tails and fins.

To Californians, the Atlantic and Pacific was considered part of the East Coast monster set to devour everything west of the Rockies.

Sunrise after February rain in the desert.

At the top of the grade west of Ludlow. The dark rocks in the foreground are ancient lava from the several eruptions over the eons.

Oil train at dusk.

Track laying closely followed the dirt work. In the first five days, 4,200 feet of rail were laid. Construction proceeded through winter and spring into the worst of summer. The Mojave shimmered with mirage, and still the project marched westward. If you have never been in this desert in summer, you cannot image the intensity of the heat. Rock and sand radiate sunlight like mirrors. There is no shade -- anywhere. Ground water is too alkaline to drink; potable water had to brought in across the newly laid rail.

In its race to keep Santa Fe out of California, the Southern Pacific initially employed rail made in England, but the Congressional Charter for construction across the desert required the use of American steel, so tracks were pulled and relaid.

By October 1882, trains were operating 70 miles east of Mojave to Waterman's, the site of a rock crushing mill on the north Bank of the Mojave River -- dry virtually all year except during rainy winters when snow melt and rain would wash down from the San Gabriel Mountains. When the Santa Fe later built south through Cajon Pass to reach the Los Angeles Basin, the junction's name was changed to Barstow, after William Barstow Strong, the company's president. The middle name was employed because the last name had already been used for Strong City, Kansas, today a tiny burg west of Emporia.

By the end of 1882, rails extended 131 miles east of Mojave.

This westbound Z Train is rolling downhill on one of the several grades between Ludlow and Daggett.

About halfway between Ludlow and Daggett.

Downgrade.

Beginning at Amboy (about 20 miles east of Ludlow), the Southern Pacific began naming sidings in alphabetical order: Amboy, Bristol, Cadiz, Danby, Edson, Fenner, Goffs, Homer, Ibex and Java. Edson and Bristol were later changed to Essex and Bengal.

Operations to Goffs (about 50 railroad miles east of Ludlow) began March 19, 1833. To reach this location, the railroad ran south around the heel of the Marble Mountains. Later Route 66 would climb a small gradient over the edge of the heel. Passing travelers would spell their names with small rocks along the shoulder, and you can still see their handiwork today, because California maintains this section of the old road. Even later, I-40 blasted directly east through the heart of the mountains.

Exactly one month later (April 19, 1883), the last rail was laid to Needles on the western bank of the Colorado River, and the approximately 600 workmen who had been living there for the past six months quickly returned to San Francisco over the new track.

July 12, 1883, the Atlantic and Pacific reached the Colorado River east of Needles, California, where the Southern Pacific was already constructing a bridge.

Westbound manifest beneath snow.

Stacks meet at the top of the hill west of Ludlow.

In those long ago days, the Colorado River was untamed, without dams, wild and fiery. As the snow melted off the Rocky Mountains, the river swelled like a balloon and swirled with tree stumps and the carcasses of drowned animals. Piles initially driven by the SP into the sand were washed away by flood waters. A barge ordered for pile driving was too small. A larger barge was wrecked in the high water. A train carrying bridge workers was set on fire by a drunken cook.

The Southern Pacific persevered, however, and completed the bridge in August 1883, and the Atlantic and Pacific began running tri-weekly service from Ash Fork to the river.

Southern Pacific had no desire to develop traffic through Needles in competition with its own southern transcontinental route through Yuma, so it sent little traffic to the Atlantic and Pacific. The A&P began running passenger trains west, but the SP required all passengers to de-train at Needles and walk across a long platform to reach waiting SP cars. From the Southern Pacific's perspective, the only purpose of the Mojave-Needles line was to prevent the Atlantic and Pacific from entering California.

At the end of 1883, the Atlantic and Pacific had completed what amounted to 560 miles of a desolate branch line from Albuquerque to Needles. The railroad considered construction of a parallel track across the California desert, but the plan was not realistic, because the railroad could not have stopped at Mojave but would have been forced to seek revenue by pushing northward across the Transverse Ranges into the Central Valley and on to San Francisco, paralleling the Southern Pacific every rugged mile -- a monumental and impractical financial obligation -- so the railroad began negotiations to purchase the SP's track from Needles to Mojave, with concerns about traffic to San Francisco being reserved for latter. One step at a time, the railroad thought.

Westbound pushers.

Trains passing in the desert, with snow on the mountains.

Remnants of a recent rainfall.

Why, you may ask, would the Southern Pacific sell to the A&P the barrier blocking the latter's entrance to California? Well, before acquiring an interest in the Atlantic and Pacific, the Santa Fe had obtained from Mexico a grant of 15,000 acres per mile to construct a line from El Paso to Guaymas on the Gulf of California -- a route also coveted by the Southern Pacific. Guaymas was about 800 miles closer to China and 1000 miles nearer Australia than San Francisco. In an article dated June 20, 1879, the New York Times stated:

The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad is backed by unlimited capital, and having a line to the coast not only offering so much the shortest routes, but suffering no hindrance from snow during the winter, will prove a mean competitor to the Southern Pacific, who controls not only all the railroads of California, but great steamship lines as well. The command of the company is law on the Pacific Coast.

In 1879 Santa Fe had completed the new line in Mexico, and the company's rails reached from Kansas to the Pacific. Traffic was sparse, but the AT&SF now had priority into Mexico. Huntington feared that his own plans south of the border would be blocked, and so he agreed to sell the Needles to Mojave line to the Santa Fe in return for the Mexican route.

The deal closed August 20, 1884. The Atlantic and Pacific purchased 242 miles of California track for $30,000 per mile = $7,260,000, which computes to $236,912,320.41 in 2025. The A&P financed the purchase through the Southern Pacific and paid interest of six percent per annum. In addition, the A&P secured trackage rights across Tehachapi Pass into the Central Valley and north to Oakland for $1,200 per mile per month.

The Santa Fe later considered constructing its own line into the Valley but all alternate routes across the Transverse Ranges proved infeasible. The Santa Fe eventually purchased a competing line through the Valley, financed by farmers and merchants to combat the SP "Octopus," but to this day the Santa Fe's successor BNSF still pays trackage rights to the Union Pacific (SP's successor) to cross Tehachapi Pass.

Westbound autos on the grade above Ludlow.

Mid-trains above Ludlow.

Westbound on the line originally constructed by the Southern Pacific.

Between Ludlow and Daggett sits Newberry Springs, a primary source of potable water for men and machines during the steam era. Freight trains carried an extra water car in every consist, but even so it was often necessary for the crew to leave its consist in a passing siding and return the power and water cars to Newberry Springs for replenishment. The Atlantic and Pacific also ran special tank trains carrying water for Ludlow and Bagdad, as well as for the few stragglers settling in the middle of the desert.

With a through line to California, the Atlantic and Pacific was set to prosper. However, the road's one-half owner the Frisco failed in 1889 to pay dividends on its preferred stock, citing crop failures for lack of traffic. The Frisco had been planning on completing the Central Division of the A&P through Tulsa and Oklahoma City, then west to New Mexico and a connection with the Western Division at Isleta Pueblo. The road's financial crisis shelved those plans. A line was later constructed to Oklahoma City, operated today (June 2025) by the Stillwater Central. The Rock Island ultimately ended up with a line from Oklahoma City to Tucumcari, which never saw much traffic and was sold in segments to FarmRail when the Rock Island was liquidated in bankruptcy in 1980.

In 1890, the Sant Fe acquired control of the Frisco, though the latter continued to operate as an independent road. For the next three years, the AT&SF operated both the Frisco and the Atlantic and Pacific as separate entities. The depression of 1893, which bankrupted almost every railroad in the country, forced the Frisco, Santa Fe and A&P into receivership. The legal thicket that followed was a gold mine for lawyers and ultimately produced a separate Frisco that operated the old Eastern Division of the A&P and a separate Santa Fe running the Western Division.

In 1897, the Atlantic and Pacific ceased to exist, and its property was conveyed to a new company created by Congress called the Santa Fe Pacific Railroad, which negotiated a new lease/purchase of the Mojave-Needles line. Then on July 1, 1902, title to the former A&P was transferred from Santa Fe Pacific to the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe. In 1911, the lease/purchase of the Mojave-Needles section was amended in favor of the AT&SF, with the final payment due in 1937, which the Santa Fe paid, at which time it took complete title to the property without encumbrance.

Mid-trains in the desert.

Westbound.

Rolling downgrade toward Newberry Springs.

In 1905 the San Pedro, Los Angeles and Salt Lake Railroad was completed, connecting Southern California with Salt Lake City. By then, the Santa Fe had constructed a line from Barstow through Cajon Pass into the Basin. The SP,LA&SL needed a connection between its northern and southern sections via Cajon Pass and sought trackage rights from the Santa Fe, which did not object. An agreement was amicably reached, allowing the SP,LA&SL to join the rails at Daggett, use the Santa Fe line the 11 miles west to Barstow and then 100 miles south through the pass to Riverside.

The SP,LA&SL eventually became part of the Union Pacific, and the traffic rights are still in effect, though the line sees significantly reduced traffic since the UP took over the SP's southern transcon route through Yuma.

Before entering BNSF's double-track main, Union Pacific auto racks wait at Dagget for BNSF 6648 West to pass.

The single track line across the desert soon was crawling with trains, like ants following a trail to food, and the Santa Fe began constructing a second track in separate individual sections -- one at a time. By 1924, double tracking was completed from Needles to Barstow. Santa Fe's high speed passenger trains soon ruled the rails, headed by the fabulous Super Chief and followed by the all-coach El Capitan. Today Amtrak runs the Southwest Chief across the Mojave, though trains in both directions are scheduled through in the dark. However, the westbound train often runs late and can be seen somewhere in the sand after the sun has risen.

Climbing upgrade again.

Westbound to Barstow.

“You can’t fight the desert, you have to ride with it.” ― Louis L’Amour

Night falls in the Mojave suddenly, as when the lights are turned off in a windowless room. The wind dies and you are left alone with your thoughts however primitive and few, but the trains keep rolling. In the night you can hear them for miles, often several at the same time. The railroad and I-40 make the Mojave seem almost tame, but it is not tame, not now. Maybe in the next Ice Age as the planet cools, but not now.

The following sources were consulted in the preparation of this article:

Santa Fe . . . Steel Rails Through California, Donald Duke and Stan Kistler, Golden West Books (1963).

Railroads of Nevada and Eastern California: Volume II, David F. Myrick, University of Nevada Press (1963).

To see my other posts, go to waltersrail.com.

To see my photographs on Flickr, go to https://www.flickr.com/photos/jpwalters/.

WaltersRail

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

TABLE OF CONTENTS

BNSF: Ludlow to Daggett

The Author