| Dawn of the Dead |
On Tuesday, October 14, 2008 a real life occurrence of “Dawn of the Dead” took place in
the thick woods of Northeastern Minnesota and along the shores of Lake Superior. Unlike
the horror films from 1978 and 2004 that share the title, there weren’t zombies roaming the
land or any bloodshed. The day didn’t end fleeing to a remote island where safety would be,
but rather chasing the undead until last light. Hell wasn’t full and the undead did not hunt
uninfected blood, but there was some intense hunting going on. I joined a dozen or so
railfans in the areas where most cell phone service falls short. Forests that claim Minnesota’
s highest moose population and other large game animals also harbored a highly desired
pack of beasts. Of course the beasts I speak of don’t follow a trail, but rather a track. On the
day the dead dawned with the morning sun, history was written once again for the Cliffs Erie
Railroad and their magnificent five-pack of F9 diesel locomotives.
With information that the Cliffs Erie was planning on making possibly the last run ever on
their tracks between Hoyt Lakes and Taconite Harbor today, it made my final decision to hunt
these units easier. I hate to admit but I passed on the previous opportunity to shoot the
Cliffs Erie, but passed on account of less than ideal weather. With this being the last
expected train to run I wanted to witness history. After rolling over in bed for one more
round of snooze, I finally mustered up the energy to get out of bed. I would learn later on in
the day, the few hours of sleep I got was only to be outdone by some other dedicated
railfans. With the sun still deep below the horizon, I was headed east on highway 2 on a
frosty morning. The morning deejays on XM Satellite Radio channel 20 keeping me
entertained I found myself questioning my sanity: a trip that would end up being over 600
miles for one single train. Then I reminded myself it was history, and an unprecedented sight
for me… five F9’s assembled in an A-B-B-B-A fashion.
It is no surprise to anyone that the drive along the Lakes Sub between Cass Lake and the
Twin Ports didn’t yield any trains. There wouldn’t be enough light for a shot regardless, but it
would have been fun to see some action nonetheless. With the morning light becoming
more evident to the east, the anticipation for the day’s events grew. Worried I had actually
gotten too late of a start to the day, I found myself driving hastily on highway 61 along Lake
Superior’s North Shore. Passing through Two Harbors I could see the sun just starting to
crest the horizon lighting up the ore docks. Nothing of interest was seen other than the
behemoth structures themselves. Watching a ship far from shore in the patchy morning fog
over a placid lake was mesmerizing. Add in the remaining fall color, it was tempting to stop
for some photographs but the Cliffs would be unforgiving to a tardy railfan.
When I made the turn north on Minnesota Highway 1, I began to be concerned with the
clouds. There was an obvious shift in the winds and some clouds to the north. By my
estimate the clouds were still going to be north of Murphy City when I arrived. Murphy City is
not much more than a sign where the tracks cross the roadway. Keeping the moose and the
winding roads in mind, I still made good time to Murphy City and found my estimate was
accurate. The clouds were just to the north but rapidly approaching. I exited my vehicle to
find no other railfans waiting at the crossing – a bad sign for such an anticipated and
publicized move. The Griswold Signals which protected motorists for years seemed
depressed covered in rust and cobwebs as I approached the rails to check for rust. With a
fair amount of rust covering the railheads it meant I hadn’t missed the train. I took a couple
shots of the static signals and the tracks as they come around the curve before crossing the
highway. The fall color was past peak but some brilliant yellows remained. I took a few
photos of what could have been just before the clouds moved in.
It was a good thirty minutes I paced outside of my car before any rail related action
occurred. While standing near my tripod mounted video camera I observed what appeared to
be a hi-rail truck approach and pass. I was concerned when he passed without stopping, but
was quickly reassured the train was approaching when he braked and made a u-turn. He
parked opposite of me on the road and we started some small talk after discussing the train
was expected, but he was nearly in the dark as much as I was. The gentleman in the hi-rail
was flagging the crossing as the Griswolds were non-operational. Shortly after his arrival
additional railfans arrived at the crossing to wait for the F9’s. The railfans began taking their
posts to get their preferred location in the photographer line. Minutes after falling in, a car
screaming east on highway 1 crossed the tracks and made an emergency stop just after the
crossing. Additional railfans jumped out of the vehicle and joined the line. It was show time.
With a distant bark of a distinct air-horn the adrenaline began to flow. I had made three
previous trips to Murphy City for this shot, and was unsuccessful three times. The rumble of
the F9’s was closely followed by the headlights beaming along the railheads. Moments later
as the train passed, I finally released my finger from the shutter that was in burst mode and
took a deep breath. Listening to the train scream around the corner was like a trance with
the only high being from steel on steel action. With half of the railfans running to their cars
and roaring off to the next intercept, I continued to capture the scene on video. As soon as
the train was clear of my video camera, I too was in the pursuit. The convoy of railfans
screamed around the corners of highway 1 and then on to the back county roads of Lake
County and Cook County. At the junction of county road 6 and 7, one of the hardest decisions
of the day was to shoot the east or west portal of Cramer Tunnel. Eventually after jerking the
wheel back and forth a couple times I finally kept the wheel straight and headed for West
Portal.
I decided to test the limits of my car and drive up as far up as I could. When I traveled to
this location previously with friend and railfan Kevin Madsen, I saw a bear in close proximity
to where we parked. With no bears in sight I climbed above the portal and awaited the train.
Only a few minutes passed before the thump and rumble of the train became evident. At
highway 1 the clouds were dominant and unforgiving despite the presence of Bud Bulgrin,
more commonly known as the human high pressure system for his remarkable luck with the
sun. The clouds were winning out at West Portal as the train came around the corner and
across the bridge before the tunnel. As the train neared, a moving sliver of light broke
through the clouds, a very small sliver of light. The train slowly moving down the tracks came
close to the sliver and was catching up to it. I was really hoping the timing would work out for
a sunny shot of the train. Just as the train was approaching the tunnel, the sliver of light
opened up and lit the entire train for a few seconds before the train entered Cramer Tunnel.
Joyous in the miracle break in the clouds I had just observed, the chase was on again.
Railfans began to assemble at the next intercept location, the grade crossing of Cramer Rd.
Just as I was arriving, I met a road grader that was forming the road surface again. I parked
out of the way for his return trip in case he drove back by in a critical moment. The minutes
passed and eventually the train could be heard again. By this time, closing in on Lake
Superior, most of the clouds had broken up. A few stubborn low clouds were still around as
the train approached and slowed to a stop. It almost seemed like the crew was holding short
of the crossing for the clouds to clear up for the photographers. Eventually with the
crossing flaggers in place, the train began to descend towards Lake Superior. It would be a
fast chase to the next spot.
Zeke is the northern most cut in the steep hillside where the Cliffs Erie tracks come down
and cross over highway 61. The entourage of railfans set up and got their shots as the train
slowed to set the switch to head down to the loading area where the recalled taconite fines
were. As the day went on, the weather continued to improve. Thousands of photographs
were captured by the dozen or so railfans that had assembled at Taconite Harbor. It was a
pleasure meeting several other railroad photographers including Dave Schauer for the first
time. We have talked back and forth for years and nearly crossed paths several times,
sometimes as little as a couple hundred feet. As dawn turned to afternoon, the fun
continued, but that story is coming on another day. Please check back for the rest of the
story in a future installment of Christopher S. Muller stories.
the thick woods of Northeastern Minnesota and along the shores of Lake Superior. Unlike
the horror films from 1978 and 2004 that share the title, there weren’t zombies roaming the
land or any bloodshed. The day didn’t end fleeing to a remote island where safety would be,
but rather chasing the undead until last light. Hell wasn’t full and the undead did not hunt
uninfected blood, but there was some intense hunting going on. I joined a dozen or so
railfans in the areas where most cell phone service falls short. Forests that claim Minnesota’
s highest moose population and other large game animals also harbored a highly desired
pack of beasts. Of course the beasts I speak of don’t follow a trail, but rather a track. On the
day the dead dawned with the morning sun, history was written once again for the Cliffs Erie
Railroad and their magnificent five-pack of F9 diesel locomotives.
With information that the Cliffs Erie was planning on making possibly the last run ever on
their tracks between Hoyt Lakes and Taconite Harbor today, it made my final decision to hunt
these units easier. I hate to admit but I passed on the previous opportunity to shoot the
Cliffs Erie, but passed on account of less than ideal weather. With this being the last
expected train to run I wanted to witness history. After rolling over in bed for one more
round of snooze, I finally mustered up the energy to get out of bed. I would learn later on in
the day, the few hours of sleep I got was only to be outdone by some other dedicated
railfans. With the sun still deep below the horizon, I was headed east on highway 2 on a
frosty morning. The morning deejays on XM Satellite Radio channel 20 keeping me
entertained I found myself questioning my sanity: a trip that would end up being over 600
miles for one single train. Then I reminded myself it was history, and an unprecedented sight
for me… five F9’s assembled in an A-B-B-B-A fashion.
It is no surprise to anyone that the drive along the Lakes Sub between Cass Lake and the
Twin Ports didn’t yield any trains. There wouldn’t be enough light for a shot regardless, but it
would have been fun to see some action nonetheless. With the morning light becoming
more evident to the east, the anticipation for the day’s events grew. Worried I had actually
gotten too late of a start to the day, I found myself driving hastily on highway 61 along Lake
Superior’s North Shore. Passing through Two Harbors I could see the sun just starting to
crest the horizon lighting up the ore docks. Nothing of interest was seen other than the
behemoth structures themselves. Watching a ship far from shore in the patchy morning fog
over a placid lake was mesmerizing. Add in the remaining fall color, it was tempting to stop
for some photographs but the Cliffs would be unforgiving to a tardy railfan.
When I made the turn north on Minnesota Highway 1, I began to be concerned with the
clouds. There was an obvious shift in the winds and some clouds to the north. By my
estimate the clouds were still going to be north of Murphy City when I arrived. Murphy City is
not much more than a sign where the tracks cross the roadway. Keeping the moose and the
winding roads in mind, I still made good time to Murphy City and found my estimate was
accurate. The clouds were just to the north but rapidly approaching. I exited my vehicle to
find no other railfans waiting at the crossing – a bad sign for such an anticipated and
publicized move. The Griswold Signals which protected motorists for years seemed
depressed covered in rust and cobwebs as I approached the rails to check for rust. With a
fair amount of rust covering the railheads it meant I hadn’t missed the train. I took a couple
shots of the static signals and the tracks as they come around the curve before crossing the
highway. The fall color was past peak but some brilliant yellows remained. I took a few
photos of what could have been just before the clouds moved in.
It was a good thirty minutes I paced outside of my car before any rail related action
occurred. While standing near my tripod mounted video camera I observed what appeared to
be a hi-rail truck approach and pass. I was concerned when he passed without stopping, but
was quickly reassured the train was approaching when he braked and made a u-turn. He
parked opposite of me on the road and we started some small talk after discussing the train
was expected, but he was nearly in the dark as much as I was. The gentleman in the hi-rail
was flagging the crossing as the Griswolds were non-operational. Shortly after his arrival
additional railfans arrived at the crossing to wait for the F9’s. The railfans began taking their
posts to get their preferred location in the photographer line. Minutes after falling in, a car
screaming east on highway 1 crossed the tracks and made an emergency stop just after the
crossing. Additional railfans jumped out of the vehicle and joined the line. It was show time.
With a distant bark of a distinct air-horn the adrenaline began to flow. I had made three
previous trips to Murphy City for this shot, and was unsuccessful three times. The rumble of
the F9’s was closely followed by the headlights beaming along the railheads. Moments later
as the train passed, I finally released my finger from the shutter that was in burst mode and
took a deep breath. Listening to the train scream around the corner was like a trance with
the only high being from steel on steel action. With half of the railfans running to their cars
and roaring off to the next intercept, I continued to capture the scene on video. As soon as
the train was clear of my video camera, I too was in the pursuit. The convoy of railfans
screamed around the corners of highway 1 and then on to the back county roads of Lake
County and Cook County. At the junction of county road 6 and 7, one of the hardest decisions
of the day was to shoot the east or west portal of Cramer Tunnel. Eventually after jerking the
wheel back and forth a couple times I finally kept the wheel straight and headed for West
Portal.
I decided to test the limits of my car and drive up as far up as I could. When I traveled to
this location previously with friend and railfan Kevin Madsen, I saw a bear in close proximity
to where we parked. With no bears in sight I climbed above the portal and awaited the train.
Only a few minutes passed before the thump and rumble of the train became evident. At
highway 1 the clouds were dominant and unforgiving despite the presence of Bud Bulgrin,
more commonly known as the human high pressure system for his remarkable luck with the
sun. The clouds were winning out at West Portal as the train came around the corner and
across the bridge before the tunnel. As the train neared, a moving sliver of light broke
through the clouds, a very small sliver of light. The train slowly moving down the tracks came
close to the sliver and was catching up to it. I was really hoping the timing would work out for
a sunny shot of the train. Just as the train was approaching the tunnel, the sliver of light
opened up and lit the entire train for a few seconds before the train entered Cramer Tunnel.
Joyous in the miracle break in the clouds I had just observed, the chase was on again.
Railfans began to assemble at the next intercept location, the grade crossing of Cramer Rd.
Just as I was arriving, I met a road grader that was forming the road surface again. I parked
out of the way for his return trip in case he drove back by in a critical moment. The minutes
passed and eventually the train could be heard again. By this time, closing in on Lake
Superior, most of the clouds had broken up. A few stubborn low clouds were still around as
the train approached and slowed to a stop. It almost seemed like the crew was holding short
of the crossing for the clouds to clear up for the photographers. Eventually with the
crossing flaggers in place, the train began to descend towards Lake Superior. It would be a
fast chase to the next spot.
Zeke is the northern most cut in the steep hillside where the Cliffs Erie tracks come down
and cross over highway 61. The entourage of railfans set up and got their shots as the train
slowed to set the switch to head down to the loading area where the recalled taconite fines
were. As the day went on, the weather continued to improve. Thousands of photographs
were captured by the dozen or so railfans that had assembled at Taconite Harbor. It was a
pleasure meeting several other railroad photographers including Dave Schauer for the first
time. We have talked back and forth for years and nearly crossed paths several times,
sometimes as little as a couple hundred feet. As dawn turned to afternoon, the fun
continued, but that story is coming on another day. Please check back for the rest of the
story in a future installment of Christopher S. Muller stories.
