plateau of about one hundred acres, surrounded by seamed and rugged mountains, grinning with prospectors’ pits and the open mouths of mines.
Here is located the pretty little mining town of Idaho Springs, at an elevation of 7543 feet. We make a stop of ten minutes and get out to look around. We run right along the edge of the creek and several of the boys look for gold in the sand of the shallow water, but I hear of none being found. It is cloudy, a light rain is falling, and having reached a pretty high altitude the wind is chilly. Leaving Idaho Springs the open observation car is almost deserted, the closed coaches being far more comfortable, the most of our people caring more for comfort than for scenery. Thirteen miles from Idaho Springs we pass through Georgetown, a mining town of considerable size. Here we commence the Great Loop ascension; the railway winding around the mountain crosses itself at one point, and looking down we see nearly 200 feet beneath us the track where we had been but a short time before. Thus we climb until we reach Silver Plume, at an elevation of 9176 feet, arriving there at 12.20 Mountain time.
Leaving the train, we visit the Victoria Tunnel and Mendota Mine. Under the escort of the mine boss the majority of the party enter the mine, each one bearing a lighted candle, for the tunnel is dark as a dungeon. This tunnel is hewn from the solid rock and extends for 2000 feet straight into the mountain side before the rich vein of silver ore is reached. When we reach the end of the tunnel we are almost directly under the centre of the peak, a thousand feet under the surface of the ground. After procuring a few small pieces of ore as souvenirs we retraced our steps and were glad to get out into open daylight once more. On our return to the train we encountered a light snow squall. We leave Silver Plume at 2.15 o’clock for return trip, with Brothers Maxwell, Reagan, and Agent Shaw on the cow-catcher. A donkey on the track sees us coming, flops his left ear, switches his tail, and wisely steps aside. We arrive safely in Denver at six o’clock and find dinner waiting in our dining car, to which we all ably respond, feeling that in McDonald and his worthy attachés we have valued friends. After dinner our people scattered over the city, amusing themselves in various ways, and not having furnished the writer with reports of their experience, he can but note, “unwritten history.”
Brother F. H. Conboy, of Division 44, has kindly made arrangements with the managers of the Overland Park races to admit members of our party at reduced rates, and a number talk of attending the races to-morrow should the weather prove favorable. We are not very highly impressed with this climate at the present time, for it is entirely too cold and damp to be agreeable.
SATURDAY, JUNE 5th.
According to our original itinerary this is the day we should arrive in Philadelphia, yet here we are at Denver, in the midst of as disagreeable a spell of weather, we are told, as ever was known here. Each afternoon since we have been here it has snowed on the mountains and rained in the valleys; heavy wraps and overcoats are worn by our people when they venture away from the train. “This is not a sample of Colorado weather,” I hear Charlie Hooper declare, and we are all very glad it isn’t, for the sake of the people who have to stay here; we are not going to remain much longer, and wouldn’t be here now, only for the irrepressible tantrums of the Rio Grande River. Our people scatter again to-day, and I cannot tell where they went or what they saw.
Mrs. Shaw and myself visited an old friend and former neighbor, David Cannon, on his beautiful Broadway dairy ranch, six miles south of Denver. An electric line runs within half a mile of his residence. We were very cordially received and spent a pleasant day. We also visited the splendid Windsor ranch, owned by Major Dubois, ex-mayor of Leadville, and operated by Messrs. Penrose and Cannon. We met the Major and Miss Dubois and were very kindly treated by them. The Windsor and Broadway dairy farms comprise a fine, beautiful, level tract of land, containing 1000 acres in a highly improved condition. It commenced to rain again about three o’clock and we returned to the city in a cold, beating storm. Mrs. Bicking, who was with us, remarked that in the four years of her residence in Colorado she had, heretofore, experienced no such weather as this.
The rain had ceased when we reached our train, about five o’clock. Found most of our company there and photo artists Stanton and Warren with their outfit, preparing to picture the train and party. We forthwith arrange ourselves in a group about the end of the train in a manner according to the instructions of the artists. Mrs. Bicking is requested to join the group and her little son, Austin, is placed upon the platform of the car. Our dinner this evening was an interesting and happy occasion. Brother Reagan’s friend, Conductor John Ryan, and his family were guests, and during the repast Mr. Ryan presented Brother Reagan with a handsome floral tribute, representing a keystone, composed of roses and carnations, with inscription in immortelles: “From Jack to John, who were Boys Together.” Below the inscription, artistically wrought with the same kind of flowers, is a representation of clasped hands. Brothers Reagan and Ryan were boys together, grew up and learned railroading together, but have been separated for about eighteen years. The event was a happy one and will be long remembered by those who participated. A few of our people attended the Overland Park races to-day, but the weather was unfavorable for the sport. Brother Crispin met an old schoolmate this afternoon, Mr. J. H. Harris, who is connected with the inspection department of the Denver and Rio Grande Road. Mr. Harris took charge of Brother Crispin and several others and showed them a good time.
We are scheduled to leave here at midnight, and conclude to remain up till we start. There is usually an entertaining time in the smoker and the hours pass quickly away. We start promptly at 2.01 A. M. Eastern (12.01 A. M. Mountain) time over the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad, known as the “Burlington Route,” with B. & M. engine 317, Engineer W. Fuller, Fireman C. Babcock, Conductor C. W. Bronson, Brakeman E. Q. Robie. As guests we have with us leaving Denver Trainmaster J. F. Kenyon and Traveling Engineer C. A. Dickson. It is now past midnight; we have said goodbye to the kind friends who remained with us till the start, and as we leave the great city of Denver behind us we feel both glad and sorry; glad that we are once more speeding toward our Eastern homes, but sorry to lose sight of the matchless Colorado scenery and part with our kind and generous Colorado friends. The efforts made to show us a good time by the kind people of Denver and by the railway officials of the various lines are highly appreciated by each member of the party. Charlie Hooper will be remembered so long as memory of the trip shall last; may his appetite never grow less nor his shadow ever shrink.