WaltersRail

When you drive west on U.S. 2 across north-central Montana, the Lewis Range rises before you like bear's teeth stretching north into Alberta. These mountains were formed over 150 million years ago when an enormous slab of Precambrian sediment 3 miles thick, 50 miles wide and 160 miles long faulted (cracked) and was pushed up and over newer Cretaceous formations. Thus, older rocks now sit on top of younger ones.

The rocks at the top of the Lewis Range generally were formed from depositions in a shallow sea millions of years ago. Today, you can see in those rocks ripple marks, mud cracks and raindrop impressions, all of which were pushed eastward and skyward 50 miles. Glaciation from the last ice age sculpted the amazing jagged peaks and scooped valleys.

Pushers on a westbound manifest climb the Marias Pass grade beneath peaks and valleys sculpted in the last ice age.

Very, Very Brief Corporate History

The gateway through the Lewis Range is Marias Pass, a cleft in the jagged mountains perfect for railroad construction. Like a great-grandfather sitting quietly in his rocker, Marias has seen three generations of railroads cross its summit.

The line through the Lewis Range was originally constructed in the late 19th century by the Great Northern Railway, the love child of James J. Hill. Though the Great Northern was the only transcontinental line in the United States constructed without government subsidy, and though it was one of the few railroads to escape receivership following the Panic of 1893, it struggled financially, in part because the Northern Pacific was a direct competitor from the Twin Cities to Pugest Sound.

In 1896, Hill purchased a non-controlling interest in the Northern Pacific, when that company was financially comatose, and then futilely attempted to merge the two railroads. Outvoted by controlling shares, Hill then convinced his competition to join him in purchasing the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy, providing both the Great Northern and Northern Pacific with a connection to Chicago.

That same year, the Great Northern and Northern Pacific created the Northern Securities Company, a trust controlling the Great Northern, Northern Pacific and CB&Q, with Hill as president. The company was sued in 1902 under the Sherman Antitrust Act, and in 1904 the Supreme Court ordered the three railroads to divest -- the single largest corporate break-up until the Supreme Court tore asunder Standard Oil in 1911.

Though Hill's consolidation efforts failed, the times they were a-chaning, and the Interstate Commerce Commission eventually allowed in 1970 -- long after Hill's death -- the merger of the Great Northern; Northern Pacific; Chicago, Burlington and Quincy; and the Spokane, Portland and Seattle.

Thus was created the Burlington Northern, at the time the largest railroad in the United States, soldiering forward gamely until the 1996 merger with the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe, creating a new entity called the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railway, which changed its name to just BNSF in 2005.

Today (August 2024), BNSF's tracks across Marias Pass constitute a major gateway between the Upper Midwest and Pacific Northwest.

History of the Pass

As you approach the mountains from the east, you will notice a prominent gap between peaks, and like Native Americans for thousands of years and early European explorers, you will have discovered the lowest and easiest crossing of the Rocky Mountains from Canada to northern New Mexico. For generations, the Blackfeet used the pass to cross the Western Continental Divide and enter the Flathead Valley, but at some time in forgotten history, something terrible happened, and though people could no longer say what, the Blackfeet stopped traveling through the natural gap in the mountains.

An eastbound manifest stops for helpers at Essex, Montana.

The pass sat unused for centuries until in 1853 Congress created a fund for "explorations and surveys to ascertain the most practicable and economical route for a railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean." The exploration was to "be organized in as many distinct corps as there are routes to be surveyed."

At that time, at least six major wagon trails were used to cross the continent:

1. The Northern Trail from the headwaters of the Mississippi in Minnesota to Puget Sound, crossing the Western Continental Divide near either Helena or Butte, Montana. The Northern Pacific later crossed the divide west of Helena, while the Milwaukee Road, the last transcontinental line, crossed near Butte.

2. The Mormon Trail from Council Bluffs, Iowa, to Salt Lake City, crossing the Divide at South Pass. In Utah the trail turned southwest to California and Los Angeles. The Union Pacific Overland Route, first transcontinental line, followed most of the trail into Utah at Ogden and Promontory Point, then headed west across the Great Salt Desert to the Humboldt River Valley of Nevada. A separate railroad, the Los Angeles and Salt Lake, was later constructed to connect Utah with Southern California.

3. The Oregon Trail from Independence, Missouri, to Astoria, Oregon, which ran northwest into Nebraska, where it joined the Mormon Trail as far as western Wyoming, then turned northwest to eventually follow the Snake River to the eastern border of Oregon. Several small railroads eventually built along this route and ultimately became part of the Union Pacific.

4. The Benton Buffalo Trail from Kansas City to San Francisco by way of the southern Colorado Rockies. This trail was little used because of the rugged terrain. Eventually, the Missouri Pacific followed the route to Pueblo, where the Denver and Rio Grande took over and built across the Divide at Tennessee Pass.

5. The 32nd Parallel from Fort Smith, Arkansas, across what became Oklahoma to Los Angeles. No railroad was constructed along the trail between Fort Smith and the Texas Panhandle. West of Belen, New Mexico, the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad followed the route into California.

6. The Southern Route across Texas, southern New Mexico and Arizona to Los Angeles. This trail eventually became Southern Pacific's Sunset Route.

Westbound manifest at False Summit.

Eastbound at False Summit.

Eastbound at Summit.

Besides authorizing the Pacific railroad surveys, Congress in 1853 created the new territory of Washington out of that portion of Oregon north of the Columbia River and the 46th parallel. Major Isaac I. Stevens, of what was then called the Engineering Corps of the United States Army (now the Army Corps of Engineers), applied both for the territorial governorship and leadership of the team exploring the Northern Trail. Your author does not know the extent of his political connections, but he was certainly well endowed. The government gave him both appointments.

No. 8 crossing Two Medicine River on the eastern slope of Marias Pass.

Eastbound stacks at same location.

Like almost all mountain ranges in the northwest, Marias Pass sees more moisture on the western slope than the east. The west is thus heavily forested, while foliage on the eastern slope thins quickly below the summit. A few miles down the hill, the land is open and mostly treeless. Here an eastbound vehicle train has come down off the mountain, crossed the Two Medicine River and is now climbing out of the river valley.

In May, 1853, the survey party left St. Paul, Minnesota, crossing Minnesota Territory (statehood was gained in 1858) and what is now North Dakota to Fort Union at the confluence of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, a route later traced almost exactly by the Great Northern. Stevens later filed with Congress a detailed report of his journey, which can be found at:

https://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/moa/AFK4383.0012.001?rgn=main;view=fulltext.

Below is a map showing the route of Stevens' group and the Great Northern.

This map is taken from Great Northern Railway Historical Society Reference Sheet 263, as is significant detail in this article..

As the above indicates, the Stevens' Party did not travel through Marias Pass, instead trending southwest from Havre to Great Falls, then across the Divide at Cadottes Pass, a location never surmounted by any railroad. Led by Lieutenant John Mullan, a small group broke south from Stevens and discovered Mullan Pass, the route later chosen by the Northern Pacific. Stevens' report to Congress indicates serious concern with the Blackfeet Tribe who occupied the eastern approach to Marias and were considered dangerous, which is why the survey team headed southwest.

Stevens knew of the existence of Marias Pass, however, from Robert Greenhow's 1840 "Memoir Historical and Political of the North West Coast of North America," which included a reasonably accurate map showing a trail through Marias Pass marked "Route across the Mts."

Stevens had additional knowledge of Marias, as he wrote in his report:

From the Little Dog, a prominent chief of the Piegan tribe [of Blackfeet], and a man of character and probity, I got a very particular description of the Marias Pass we were in search of. From some superstition of the Blackfeet, it has not been used for many years, but formerly it was almost the only thoroughfare made use of by the Indians in passing from one side of the mountains to the other. It is a broad, wide open valley, with scarcely a hill or obstruction on the road, excepting here and there some fallen timber.

It was now October. From the reports of Lewis and Clark, Stevens knew that both winter and more treacherous mountains lay ahead and so decided to establish a winter camp. With Marias Pass still on his mind, however, he instructed Abiel W. Tinkham, one of the civilian engineers included in the survey team, to travel north through the Flathead Valley and then eastward to locate the pass.

On October 7, 1853, Tinkham and a Flathead Indian scout (whose name your author has been unable to locate) began their journey to the Middle Fork of the Flathead River. They followed an old Native trail up Nyack Creek, crossed the Divide at Cut Bank Pass (elevation 7,600 feet) and quickly descended about 12 miles to the plains on the east side.

Had they continued following the Middle Fork, the route eventually chosen by the Great Northern, they would have eventually arrived at Bear Creek, which forms a natural though narrow valley up the mountain to Marias Pass. Instead, Tinkham mistakenly thought he had found the pass but correctly noted in his report that the route he did explore was far too rugged for railroad construction without a massive tunnel. No railroad ever crossed at Cut Bank pass. Today (August 2024), that location can be reached only on a strenuous hiking trail in the National Forest.

Eastbound oil train rolling downgrade.

Westbound stacks on the eastern slope.

Westbound approaching West Glacier.

Not satisfied with Tinkham's efforts, Stevens wrote Jefferson Davis, Secretary of War and later President of the Confederacy, that the survey team had not yet found the true Marias Pass, and that further exploration was needed. Davis replied that allotted funds had run out; operations were to be discontinued immediately. A Mississippian to the core, Davis favored the Southern Route, which obviously influenced his decision.

Stevens replied that he would follow Davis's orders, then ignored them.

In the spring of 1854, when the snow had melted at lower elevations, thinking that the pass might be discovered more easily on the eastern slope where the foliage was light, Stevens dispatched another member of his expedition, John Doty, to find Marias Pass by traveling west from the High Plains. Accompanied by Hugh Monroe (also called Rising Wolf), a former Hudson's Bay employee who lived among the Piegan, Doty left Fort Benton on May 10, 1854.

Doty and Monroe explored the mountains along the Canadian border, then turned south to an old Indian trail. Dolty climbed to the top of a hill from which he:

" . . . obtained a commanding view of the pass and the course of the river for a long distance to the southward. The pass continued about fifteen miles in breadth . . . and I am satisfied that Mr. Tinkham could not have passed over this trail or he would not pronounce this portion of the pass so difficult as his report and topography present it. This pass is not vouched for as a good railroad or pack train route, yet it is believed worthy of further examination and I only regret that I cannot make it, as your instructions require me to be at Fort Benton on the last days of the month."

A westbound grain train on the eastern slope of Marias Pass, with an unobstructed view of the mountains.

Stacks on the eastern slope.

Westbound grainer climbing the eastern slope.

Because Doty did not explore Maris Pass, Stevens' report to Congress did not recommend the route for railroad construction, though Stevens' report did describe what Doty had discovered:

Turning back on the 8th of June [1854], Mr. Doty retraced his route as far as the Marias, already referred to as issuing from a gap 15 miles wide, and along which was an old Indian trail, and followed it up on the trail for thirty miles to the southwest, finding no obstruction, except from trees; and at that distance, ascending a lofty hill, saw no mountains in the direction of the stream. On each side the mountains were lofty and rugged, showing, generally, perpendicular rock from within 300 feet of their summits, which were covered with snow; and snow banks were also found on the north side of many hills. It is to be regretted that Mr. Doty did not continue on, and ascertain where the trail issued on the western side of the mountains.

This is the true Marias Pass, described to me by the Little Dog at Fort Benton in September, 1853, and formerly used by the Indians in crossing the mountains.

Instead of the still virtually unknown Marias Pass, Stevens recommended Mullan Pass as the most likely point to cross the Divide, and the Northern Pacific (first road to Puget Sound) eventually selected it. For the next 35 years, Marias Pass waited patiently, quietly, as though hibernating, unused by the Blackfeet and unexplored by European invaders.

But the white man's westward expansion was relentless. The Great Northern Railway was creeping slowly northwestward like a mud slide -- a unique enterprise constructed without land grants from the government or protection from bankruptcy, about the only railroad that did not go into receivership after the Panic of 1893. The Great Northern supported itself with revenues from newly generated traffic, its reach never exceeding its grasp, construction pausing at Minot, North Dakota, as the company gathered resources for the long push across the High Plains to the Western Continental Divide.

Eastbound oil.

Westbound emerging from one of the few tunnels on the western slope.

When the railroad reached Havre, Montana, in 1886, about 25 miles from the Canadian border, it turned southwest along the Missouri River to Helena, but that was not its ultimate destination, for the Northern Pacific had won the race to the Montana capital and had already crossed Mullan Pass. The Great Northern's line to Helena was another of the many branches constructed to provide traffic and revenue for further construction.

The goal was to continue east toward the cleft in the mountains that John Doty claimed to have seen 35 years before. James J. Hill had hired John J. Stevens as chief surveyor, and Stevens (no relation to Isaac Stevens) set out in November, 1889, to find the pass -- with one assistant who drank too much and was almost immediately fired.

Stevens journeyed west alone 160 miles to the Blackfeet Agency at Badger Creek where he attempted to hire a Blackfoot guide, but as mentioned above, the Blackfeet had for generations avoided Marias Pass. No Blackfoot would volunteer. Stevens found a Flathead willing to explore the pass, and the two began their journey.

It was now December; snow in the mountains was deep. Your author has no idea why Stevens did not wait until the spring thaw. Perhaps there was pressure from James J. Hill. Perhaps Stevens believed himself to be master of his own destiny. Or perhaps he did not know any better.

Whatever the reason, the two journeyed northwest (on foot!) like ants in search of food and soon found the opening into the mountains where the snow was so deep that they improvised snow-shoes strung with rawhide. The east side of Marias Pass is a little like the Gangplank on the east side of Sherman Hill. It appears that God had a railroad in mind when he created the mountains, for the valley is wide, the slope managable and trees scattered. Stevens realized immediately that he had found the route for his railroad.

Still, he needed to climb to the Divide to be certain that the western side was passable, so the two men continued walking along what is now called Railroad Creek. The snow grew deeper, and the temperature dropped. If you have not been to Marias in winter, you cannot imagine the chill. When they reached what they thought was the summit, Steven's Flathead companion had had enough and turned back. Stevens continued westward and soon discovered that the true summit lay ahead. The spot where the companion turned back is now called False Summit.

Eastbound manifest on the western slope.

Westbound at West Glacier.

Westbound coming downgrade.

The sun was sinking rapidly, but Stevens advanced far enough west to ascertain that he had found the true summit and that the western slope, though far more challenging than the eastern, was passable. Then he turned back and in the darkness at the summit improvised a small shelter in the trees. The deep snow prevented a fire, so he spent the night pacing back and forth to prevent freezing, and in the first light of dawn began the walk down the eastern slope.

At False Summit he discovered his companion asleep and almost dead in the snow. Stevens awakened him, and they built a fire on the rocks. When both had warmed enough to function, they hiked down the mountain to the Blackfeet agency -- a story which sounds far too incredible to be true, but also far too incredible not to be.

Westbound at the summit.

On the eastern slope.

Marias Pass was a perfect location to cross the Divide. Its eastern approach was broad and open, with a relatively gentle grade that would not require extensive cuts or fills. Construction began August 1, 1890, east from Havre. Not a single tunnel was required to reach the summit.

Following the Pass From East to West

The aerial image above looks down on the eastern slope of Marias and shows the cleft in the mountains, with peaks rising to the north and south. At Browning, headquarters of the Blackfeet Nation, the railroad crosses under U.S.Highway 2 to the north and then parallels the road on a relatively mild grade until reaching Willow Creek, where the tracks are not visible from the road.

Eastbound stacks prearing to duck under U.S. Highway 2.

Eastbound grain at same location.

Eastbound approaching Browning, as seen from the highway.

Westbound stacks gliding downgrade beside Willow Creek.

The railroad then follows the creek up a stiffening grade to a ridge overlooking the valley of Two Medicine River. Westbounds then roll downgrade to the picturesque trestle that has beguiled rail photographers for generations.

The famous trestle over Two Medicine River.

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The above aerial image show the trestle across Two Medicine River, the small settlement of East Glacier Park and the lodge originally constructed in 1913 by the Great Northern and now owned and operated by the Viad Corporation.

The most difficult portion of the eastern slope grade begins here. In the center of the image you can see the old "Y" used for steam and later diesel helpers pushing westbounds to the summit. With the advent of modern diesel-electric power, helpers are no longer used on the eastern slope, and the "Y" has been abandoned.

This image looks southwest and shows the cleft in the mountains.

Eastbound on eastern slope. The roadbed here basically follows the lay of the land.

This image, looking northwest, shows how the tracks follow the land in the valley leading to the summit -- the perfect route for railroad construction.

Westbound on the eastern slope.

Same location.

As you climb steadily up the eastern slope, annual rainfall increases, as does vegetation. Stands of Aspen dot the valley and hills, and above the Aspen are softwood Pines climbing to the timber line -- about 6000 feet at this latitude (approximately 48 degrees 45 minutes North). Above the timber line rise sheer rock walls sculpted by glaciers. In your author's opinion, there are only two other locations in the continental United States where a mainline railroad ran below such startlingly dramatic mountain peaks, and both were in Colorado: (1) the Moffat Route through Winter Park and the Fraser River Valley and (2) the Tennessee Pass line below the Collegiate Range. Those mountains are about a mile higher than the Glacier Park peaks, as is the timber line.

The Moffat Route still soldiers on, and you can see what it looks likes in the 21st century at:

https://www.waltersrail.com/2023/07/colorado-in-fall.html

Eastbound No. 6 in the Fraser River valley, hauling three shiny new ALC-42's.

The Tennessee Pass line, alas, is no more. You can, however, see what it once looked like in my article at:

https://www.waltersrail.com/2016/09/tennessee-pass-alas.html

Eastbound manifest beneath the Collegiate Range-- after the D&RGW purchased the Southern Pacific.

Most railroad lines constructed in the 19th century were built as rapidly as possible to attract new traffic and revenue, and short cuts were often taken. Mountains grades in particular were often surmounted with multiple switchbacks and unreasonably steep grades, with the intent that at some latter date tunnels would be dug and grades reduced. Examples are the summits of Mullan and Stevens Passes. The eastern approach of Marias was so congenial to railroad construction, however, that no latter realignment was necessary.

It was not until 1966 that the Great Northern realigned a section from Bison to False Summit to soften the grade and eliminate curvature. The aerial image below clearly shows the path of the original alignment.

Reaching the summit from the eastern slope is anticlimactic as trains glide serenely to the top, seemingly unfazed by the climb, like mountain goats on a pleasant afternoon walk.

Marias Pass Summit.

A ballast train at the top.

Grainer at the summit.

Now the terrain changes abruptly. The mountains reassert dominance. Westbounds go to full dynamic breaking down the 1.8 percent compensated grade as the tracks hug the slope above Bear Creek. Eastbounds grind slowly uphill, the heaviest acquiring helpers at Essex.

This diagram is taken from Great Northern Railway Historical Society Reference Sheet 381 and shows the compensated and average grades on the east and west slopes of Marias Pass. (The right side of the chart should be labeled "East Glacier.") The eastern slope grade is about one percent; the western about 1.8 percent. The image immediately below shows how the relatively mild approach through the mountain cleft on the east side gives way immediately at the summit to the narrow Bear Creek valley. To maintain a feasible grade, the tracks do not drop into the valley but instead follow the side of the mountain. Near the top of the image you can see the old helper loop used by steam power to turn around for the trip down the mountain. The tracks are still in place and are used occasionally by diesel helpers.

An eastbound vehicle train grinds up the side of the mountain above Bear Creek.

Helpers on another eastbound approach the summit.

U.S. Highway 2 stays in the narrow valley near the creek, while the tracks are far above. You can hear eastbounds many miles away, growling into the grade. The tracks run southwest downhill to Java, where Bear Creek empties into the Middle Fork of the Flathead River.

Heavy precipitation on the western slope produces impressive snowfall, and the tracks here are protected by multiple snow sheds, several of which can be reached by maintenance roads climbing the side of the mountain. Hikers use these un-gated roads frequently.

The eastern slope provides far more photographic opportunities (because of the lack of trees), but the western slope is where you feel the full drama and splendor of Western mountain railroading. The 1.8 percent grade is steep enough to slow even the hottest Z Trains, while heavy manifests, grainers, oil trains and auto racks pick up helpers at Essex. Even Amtrak slows to a crawl on portions of the western slope. In your author's mind, nothing rivals the eastbound three percent grade above Pando on Tennessee Pass, but the western slope of Marias comes close.

Eastbound approaching the summit.

Eastbound high on the mountainside, struggling into the 1.8 percent grade.

Westbound in full dynamics beside concrete retaining wall.

Eastbound exiting snow shed.

Because of the steep grade, a single track on the western slope would create serious bottlenecks, as westbounders gliding downgrade waited in sidings for eastbounds crawling upgrade, or vice-versa, so the Great Northern double-tracked almost all the western slope in 1923-24, and westbound traffic generally stays in its own lane. However, as the railroad follows the valley of Bear Creek southwest to the junction with the Middle Fork of the Flathead River, the double track ends abruptly at Java immediately before a single track trestle across the river.

At this location, the tracks have turned from northeast-southwest to southeast-northwest as they cross above Highway 2. Java is on the southeast side of the road, trestle on the northeast. Both are accessible by vehicle.

Westbound at Java, where double track ends.

Eastbound at beginning of Java double track.

Eastbound manifest crossing the Middle Fork of the Flathead River on single track trestle.

Eastbound No. 8 on same trestle, approaching Java.

No. 8 on another day.

The double track begins again on the northwest side of the river and continues winding down the mountainside about a mile to where Sheep Creek empties into the Middle Fork. Here a double track trestle crosses the water near The Goat Lick -- cliffs full of minerals that mountain goats and other wildlife come to eat (by licking).

The Goat Lick contains calcium, potassium, magnesium, and phosphorus, all of which replace elements that animal bones lose during winter. Unfortunately, though your author has stopped at the scenic turnout overlooking this location many times over the years, he has never seen a mountain goat -- though many tourists in the parking lot look like wildlife.

The highway above the trestle contains wide shoulders on both sides where one can safely park to photograph trains in both directions. (The view from the scenic turnout is obscured by tall pines.)

Westbound autos at the Sheep Creek Trestle.

Eastbound Amtrak at same location.

On a cloudy day, a thin ray of sunlight.

As the tracks continue their westward descent, they arrive at Essex, situated on a narrow plateau above the river, with a small, still active "Y" and yard where heavy eastbounds obtain helpers -- also the location of the Izaak Walton Inn, constructed by the Great Northern in 1939 as crew quarters. Today (August 2024) the inn is privately owned and provides cozy and somewhat luxurious accommodations for tourists. An old GN caboose and the shell of a blue and white GN FP45 provide separate quarters across the parking lot from the main building. Amtrak operates a small platform there for arriving and departing guests.

Down the road from the inn is a small house once occupied by the Roadmaster. Your author and his wife once spent a week there. The tracks run about 20 yards behind the back door, which your author thought was marvelous; his wife, not so much. There was no cell phone coverage, and the place smelled of insecticide. Your author did not mind, since he could easily hike along tracks. His wife, not so much. On their most recent trip, the pair stayed in a condo in Columbia Falls.

Helpers at the Amtrak Essex platform.

West of Essex, the grade softens. Double track gives way to single track on the approaches to the handful of short tunnels. Although the line and highway run relatively close together, the forest is so dense that both exploration and photography are problematic except in a few locations where the trees have been cleared. Trains in both directions run briskly. Because of the winding road and heavy traffic, chasing is possible only across extreme distance. If you get behind a motor home, and you probably will, forget it.

One of the few short tunnels on the western slope.

The continued westward descent brings us to West Glacier, the primary entrance to the park. Here you do not realize how far you are from any significant metropolis. Less than 30 miles from the Canadian border, West Glacier feels like its own self-contained civilization, as though one could spend a lifetime here and never feel the lack. Everything one needs in the modern world is within a short drive, yet to reach this place, one must either drive, fly or train a phenomenal distance. As an example, your author takes three days to drive across mostly empty country -- Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming and half of gigantic Montana -- to reach these majestic mountains. It feels like driving across the universe, but every mile is worth it.

Amtrak stops at a small platform, and because the line goes to single track a short distance both east and west, trains often meet here. The forest has been swept away to provide room for tourists, giving a feeling of openness where none really exists.

An eastbound meets BNSF 4451 West.

Westbound at West Glacier.

Past West Glacier, tracks and river both turn southwest and then south through more heavy forest beneath the watchful eye of Teakettle Mountain. The tracks then bend west and cross the river for a second time -- toward a narrow ledge where the river has carved a channel leading to Columbia Falls and the broad Flathead Valley.

Across the Middle Fork again.

Pushers on a westbound grainer emerging from the ledge above the river into the Flathead Valley.

Columbia Falls, Montana.

Postscript: Flathead Tunnel

Thus ends the survey of Marias Pass; however, your author cannot conclude without a brief mention of Flathead Tunnel, about a 55 mile drive from Columbia Falls -- part of a 60-mile rerouting of the Great Northern due to construction of Libby Dam and Lake Koocanusa. The seven mile tunnel is the second longest in the United States, behind only Cascade Tunnel in Washington, also part of the Great Northern line to Puget Sound.

The rerouting project is worthy of a separate article, which the author may undertake if he lives long enough. For now, here are a few images to whet one's appetite.

Westbound grain, with MRL in the consist, approaching tunnel.

Eastbound stacks leaving.

Westbound exiting tunnel.

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, August 27, 2024

Table of Contents

Marias Pass!

The Author