Not far from my house are the remains of the old Chili Line train tracks. The Chili Line, or the Santa Fe branch of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad, was constructed beginning in 1880 and the line was closed in 1941; it was dismantled in 1942. The two mile-long dirt road leading up to the driveway to my house is in the bed of the old tracks. The road gradually climbs up along the canyon walls from the Rio Grande; my driveway veers off the tracks, and the tracks continue as a trail up the sides of the canyon for several more miles before they reach the mesa. In a few places, the trail is abruptly interrupted by sheer drop offs where the old railroad bridges have been removed. In other places, the trail is crossed by deep washes, piles of boulders that have fallen from steep banks down onto the old tracks, and trees that have grown up where the tracks used to be.
Animals run along and cross the trail in places as they pass from the dry mesa above to the river below. A few days ago, I came across some fresh tracks that were easily three times the size of deer or sheep hooves; I'm guessing they were from elk. There's also an abundance of coyote scat and tracks on the trail, and many crows, ravens, and robins who cross over the trail as they fly to and from the water.
This whole area is covered with the stumps of trees that were cut and hauled down to the tracks earlier this century to power the train. Evidence of human presence during that time is scattered across the hills and down to the river. I've found old horseshoes, wagon wheel rims, cans of many kinds, bolts, pieces of track, and other odd bits of steel that I haven't been able to identify. There's also old glass from the same time period, in shades of pale blue and lavender. Cinders have been dumped in large piles that spread next to the tracks in some areas. A curious practice has developed: people walking the trail (including myself) have deposited found objects in sporadic collections along the track. I'm grateful for this: rather than taking the graphic reminders of history and keeping them for their own purposes, people have left them there for others to view.
Photos below.
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| House where I live in Embudo. |
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| Looking up at the old train bed |
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| Cinder |
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| Looking out the train bed, toward the northeast. |
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| Found collection |
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| Found, in the distance |
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| Found collection on the side of the train bed, inside an old barrel. |
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| More of that found collection |
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| Old train bed, filled with trees and fallen boulders |
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| Birds flying across the tracks, up from the Rio Grande |
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| Perching on the side of the banks above the train bed |
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| Old and new found objects |
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