Nevada Transcontinental in all its gorgeous beauty. An illustration by Erik Boucher.

Grain elevators are immense, but tireless open wire summons the mettle to relentlessly plod forward keeping the Union Pacific rails perfect company westward to Colorado.

Chicago-Northwestern Signals Department structure, c. 1920s. Council Bluffs, Iowa.

This after storm photo of the old 1931 Tyndall-Wagner lead paints a bucolic portrait of wet grass, breeze-driven wires and blue-gray skies. 

Santa Fe Railway open wire (working) Shawnee County, Kansas.

Trackside communications link, working wire, 2016, Kansas.

Working wire termination structure with double dead-ends (Rayco type), 2016.

Close-up of the dead-end terminal structure with SEECO insulators and arrangement of jumpers.

All photos credit: D. G. Schema, The Electric Orphanage, unless otherwise noted.

Grain elevators in the distance and the march of poles along a UPRR mainline track. A prairie scene in all its rich simplicity.

Junction-Terminal Structure at Tyndall, South Dakota, 1982.

2014 UPRR H-Fixture in northeastern Kansas.

Bird’s eye view before landing on the line wires. Deceased Burlington-Northern lead near Lincoln, NE.

Double A Terminal Box with double doors open. Chicago-Northwestern Railway Company H-fixture, c. 1920s.

Looking from Waverly, Nebraska towards Lincoln, c. 1979.

Lift Brackets attached to CNW Signals Pole. Photo taken 2013.

Union Pacific rural aerial wire in Northern Kansas, c. 2013.

Trees have overgrown this Chicago-Northwestern Railway H-Fixture relic with Double A terminal box. Photo taken 2013.

Tilford single arm, dual aerial cable lead, looking south towards I-90, Black Hills of South Dakota.

Here is the line which the website author was able to save from the linewreckers.  It is a non-working lead, solely surviving from the actions taken by Northwestern Bell, the Smithsonian Institution’s Technology head, various action groups in the telecommunications history sector and myself.

It is hoped that this line will survive the various corporate philosophies inherent with ownership change.  It is a great monument to an era.

Subtle grade changes make the landscape over which this short section of the Tilford, SD line runs, builds excitement. Note the new pole placed within the last year or so.

Recently, a pole was replaced on this Tilford, SD line, indicating that the philosophical forces are still at work to preserve this important feature of the former N. W. Bell operating area.

With Tri-County’s cooperation, for the creation of a 100th anniversary commissioned drawing, I took these photos in 2005.

Perhaps my iconic memory of my early work with the great people of Tri-County Telephone Association, was this November photo taken of a now-retired lineman who made me ponder, ” . . . I am a lineman for the county . . . and I drive the main roads . . .”

Council Grove Telephone became part of Tri-County Telephone Association about ten years ago. In 2004-5, I took photos of the last surviving open wire in the State of Kansas.

Note the protection systems on this lead.

Union Pacific Railroad, Silver Lake, KS., 2009. Double dead-end arms on H-fixture using Hughes Brothers “X” bracing. Typically these special purpose “storm” structures prevented cascading destruction of the entire line.

1987 rural Arizona view of open wire along a U. S. highway east of Globe.

Union Pacific Main Line Denver-Kansas City signal circuits. Association of American Railroads, Communications Section style construction with modifications, Rossville, Kansas. Linewrecked 2009.

Mitchell-Tyndall Lead with higher pole to offer clearance for drop to opposite side of highway.

Near the “Date Capital of Arizona,” this double 10B arm sports McGraw-Edison Pyrex lightning arresters on a working lead.  Dateland, Arizona, 2011.

Cross connect terminal on “monument” pole near Grainfield, Kansas. American Railway Association design.

Working open-wire with Case point-type span brackets attached, west of Flagstaff, Arizona.

Single arm view of same lead.

Mitchell-Tyndall Lead, 1973.

Close-up view of Mitchell-Tyndall tangent transposition pole. Note side bracket construction for local farms.

Mitchell-Tyndall Lead with side bracket construction and phantom/drop brackets, 1978.

Tyndall, SD angle structure with double bracing, larger sized drop and phantom bracket types with guy.

Currently working (2011) UPRR aerial wire, West Topeka, Kansas.

Burlington-Northern terminal structure (now gone) near Goodland, Kansas. Note early two-pin break-irons on termination points.

.

Linewrecking the Central Transcontinental, March 1989: A Panorama

Up onto the Great Basin from Sparks, Nevada along I-80 East.

In early October 1988, I had the good fortune of browsing through the new books our public library had put on display.  There were some pretty interesting titles.  Among them was a new re-hash of an old work, in trade paperback format, entitled: U. S. 40 Today: Thirty Years of Landscape Change in America by Thomas R. Vale & Geraldine R. Vale. 

Having an emotional and historical affliction when it comes to old highway images, this book appeared particularly inviting.  Because portrayals of any antiquated by-ways might be expected to include street and highway furniture, I paused to pull it out for a look.  Who knew?  Maybe there would be some old open wire or power system photography as a treat.  That was . . . very likely . . . so searching about to find a nearby chair, I sat down to immediately peruse it.

On page 158, was a sight and textual observation nearly unbelieveable to my eyes: under “Imlay” as the title, a black and white 1950 vs. 1980 comparison photograph appeared.  Here–as expected–the earlier photograph included the prominent feature of the landscape: the 1926 Central Transcontinental Lead, in all its grandeur.   But the photo below, taken thirty years later–was nearly a mirror image!  At closer inspection of the photo, the the Vale’s mirror image illustration of the landscape and line was within 90% accuracy to that of George Stewart’s photo–except they had missed the actual pole he photographed by only one span!

Reading the adjoining text . . . the authors aparently were as transfixed by I by the prominence of such an anachronism in the landscape: the open wire pole line, by concluding the chapter, “The persistence of the telephone line is more of a puzzle. . . . Are service demands too great for the newer cables alone, or has the telephone cmpany simply not yet ‘found the time’ to ‘junk it’?”

I quickly checked out the book and began to research the service area.  Since my work involved the telecommunications community and our company, NEC America, Inc. served the Pacific Telesis/Nevada Bell accounts, it was clear my contacts would have to be out of the Reno area. 

That Tuesday, October 11, 1988, after a weekend of researching, I faxed from our office to the then, current Outstate Operations Manager of Nevada Bell, an email regarding information about the old T.C.  That Monday, Nevada Bell’s officials had informed me that the entire line was to be demolished by contractors within six to eight months from the October 1st date.  My email contained a second page with references and a copy of the Vales’ “Imlay” text with photos. 

Through some calls to the Nevada Bell Pioneers and then a call back from the Nevada Bell Public Affairs office, I was informed by telephone that “Yes, the line was still up, but destruction was progressing and there wasn’t much time.  You might want to contact us as to when you might arrive and we can help you, accordingly.”

My employer graciously gave me a week (much saved vacation time) and appropriate contact information and a meeting time was establshed through the good offices at East Plumb Lane in Reno.  Their outside plant transmission engineer, who administered this particular line and its line wrecking contractors, said they were a “bit surprised and pleased for my attention to this line all the way from Omaha, Nebraska” and would “welcome my presence as a guest for a day’s visit.” 

In fact, the Nevada Bell people asked me to meet with Harry, the Supervisor in that Wire Center, and some of his construction supervisory people at Winnemucca, Nevada where they would give me a full day with their Bell crews and Harry would extend the courtesy of lunch and a great tour of what was coming down.

Arriving at the Reno airport, renting a car and then meeting the Nevada Bell people, was a whirlwind.  The remaining portions of the Central Transcontinental were near Battle Mountain, Winnemucca and intermediate points roughly along the I-80 corridor.  This was “Great Basin” territory.  Climbing from Sparks, Nevada onto I-80’s upward climb towards the Humboldt Mountains, the scenery changed from rocky to a valley.  Rabbit Bush, scrub grass and basins of white salt clearly indicated that this was a stark landscape in either winter or summer.  Because October was a cooler time to visit, it was fortunate for everyone involved.  I could only imagine how hot this area would have been in July or August!

Passing through Imlay, Nevada on I-80, I took the exit and drove to where the Vales had taken their photo.  Yes, Nevada Bell personnel were correct.  I had arrived just in time; the lines in Vales’ book had disappeared.  There was no trace.  Not even old line material littered the ground.  In a few short months, their “Imlay” chapter and photo had changed dramatically and had immediately dated the book.  There would be a yet a newer photo, when someone returned a third time to review the “Imlay” site 30 years later!

Arriving at the Nevada Bell Winnemucca Service Center, I drove through the main gate and parked near the building on the west side.  The entrance Harry had mentioned was on the south and it took a little walk to find it.  Outside were reels of copper 128 and 165 aerial wire recovered from some of the line wrecking.  There were a tantilizing pile of ten pin arms.  Later I was told these were over 60 years old–but didn’t look their age–due to the lack of moisture, rot and ice damage–which didn’t affect them in this region of the world. 

Nearly at the pass, Lovelock is over those peaks on the other side.

A note about the ride from Reno to Winnemucca.  In the fall, which was my scheduled time to visit, the weather was excellent, the temperatures were in the 60s and I experienced no bad weather.  Good time was made via I-80 and the scenery was magnificent. 

However, pack up well, as there are few large towns between Sparks and Winnemucca.  Lots of distance and so fuel up and get something to eat while you can because there might not be another restaurant or stopping point for 60 miles or more. 

To indicate how forelorn the landscape and vacant of population the land presents to the traveler, was this junction of U. S. 95 with I-80.  On the directional sign, green field with white lettering, the control “city” was simply “North 95 To Idaho.”

During my visit to the Reno area, taking the time to make a circumferential drive around Lake Tahoe, was a wise decision.  It was absolutely beautiful scenery and both the California (west side) of the lake and the Nevada lakeshores were a visual treat.  What made the visit to Tahoe even more interesting was that when I arrived at Winnemucca–while in the Great Basin–the people there told me that it was actually higher in elevation than Lake Tahoe!  Quite a surprise for someone who had never been to that part of the West.

Lovelock, Nevada–half way between Reno and Winnemucca. The center summit is Hole in the Mountain Peak (11,306-foot elevation).

First sight of the TC northeast of I-80 near Lovelock, Nevada, 1989.

Arriving at the Winnemucca wire center by 9:00 am, was quite a feat driving from Reno, but parked and entered the Winnemucca Wire Center and Installation & Maintenance Center on the west side of the building.  After introducing myself, I met with Harry and his personnel to talk about the day’s forthcoming adventure.  We would start at the west end of the line and then go over to Battle Mountain for lunch.  My offer to treat the crew was to no effect, as they courteously offered to buy lunch as I was their guest for the day.

I loaded myself and camera into the Nevada Bell truck, while Harry drove.  It took a good 25-30 minutes before we encountered the line.  The T.C. followed old U. S. 40 (now I-80) for a good portion of its easement, however the line independently struck out on its own over some dirt paths and trails near Winnemucca.  Desert, rocks, alkali, sage brush and few fences marked some of the treacherous right-of-way.  If it hadn’t been for the mountains and a few scrub bushes, the landscape was barren.

Nevada Bell’s I & M Center in Winnemucca, Nevada.

“There it is!” Harry pointed his finger to the left, as we rounded a substantial hill on a two track dirt road.  The unmistakable profile of the transcontinental lead, as seen in Stewart’s and subsequently in Vales’ book, greeted me with the familiar K-8 crossarm style.  These poles were straight as an arrow and marched off to the east and west to a dominating beat.  Much of the wire had been hamstrung.  There was one pole without any conductor and the next with a large role of 165 mil wire hanging on its adjacent pole top arm.  Somebody had been busy.

Harry took me off road about 25 miles south of Winnemucca where we first encountered the eastern remains of the old T. C.

On close inspection, the upper arms carried 165 and the lower arms 128 mil conductor.  Break irons of a substantial form were used throughout the line, even on corners and abrupt dead-end structures. 

Partially wrecked out TC near Imlay, Nevada.

Before long, we began to see the progress of the line wrecking.  First, the line wire was cut from tie wires and dropped to the ground.  The aerial wire was reeled up and placed on trucks for its travel to the contractor’s marshalling yard.  Later it would be transported to scrap and demolition businesses for re-use by smelting in order to fulfil its next use . . . who knows where?

With the poles standing and arms intact, the arms were dismantled and dropped to the ground.  There they were piled on trucks to find their place in some landfill . . . a very ignoble end to 60 plus years of telephone service.

Later, the poles were pulled and they, too–if neighboring ranchers didn’t have a use for them–would be carted off as “junk” for some landfill or reuse.

Felled like the big timber it had been once in the forest . . .

Double-arming guyed small angle structure. Note alkali, or potassium carbonate, in the ditch.

Note how the break-irons were re-arranged on double arming at the angles.  Very strong construction throughout the line was seen.  Guying, too, was artfully administered throughout the process of design.  Most of the poles were old–from the 1920s period–and there were hardly any replacements.  Meaning: the problems with sleet and ice did not probably occur here.  It was a very unlikely situation to find downed lines because of snow–it was a semi-arid to desert country here in central Nevada.

A Tale of Two Copper Thieves . . .

Harry explained the process of removing structures, line wire and repairing the landscape where heavy equipment had to travel.  “Our schedule had to be expedited a bit when we encountered some thievery,” Harry cut in, as I mentioned how oddly some of the poles had been felled at waist level.

“We were proceding at an unhurried, but efficient rate, regarding safety,” the I & M supervisor emphasized, “. . . until we encountered the problem with copper thefts.”Way out here?” I exclaimed astonishingly.  “Yes.  We had two encounters with this problem,” Harry went on to explain.

He went on to explain the first issue with the decidedly improperly cropped poles laying in the dirt and scrup.  “Nevada Bell found that two men, apprently a father and his boy from Salt Lake City, had traveled out to the Great Basin to steal copper.”  Equipped with a truck, wire reels, chain saws and other tools, they managed to cut down dozens of poles and drop copper wire to the ground.  Quickly rounding up as much line wire as possible, they made several trips to scrap metal dealers until the local Sheriff and Bell people caught them in the act.

“The other problem was with . . . the local ranchers,” Harry continued.  Here the problem raged up and down the line route.  “Apparently . . . nearby ranchers felt that since the line’s easement crossed their property, they not only had access to the line, but were free to keep all the copper which crossed it!” Harry laughingly explained.  “Nevada Bell set them right . . . on that issue . . . right away!”

Confronted by a terminal structure of a size and form I had never encountered before: an “A” pole structure where an open wire lead from another direction joined the T. C.  There was also an aerial cable with a ready-access splice below the junction arm tied into an NC-35 terminal.  This looked quite recent.  Maybe installed within the last ten to fifteen years?   There were also some round lightning arresters on the top arm and some other fixed terminals.  It was hard to figure out the tangle–yet a methodical and complicated interchange of bridling runs and aerial wire–done in a rather touching, thoughtful way.

It was possible, judging from the age of the poles, that this structure was built long after the T. C.  The guying was relatively new, too.  The guards were yellow plastic and equipment had a most “recent” appearance. 

A unique feature was the use of white porcelain spools on the C-type deadends below.  This was completely uncommon with my experience in the central U. S. and Texas.  This marked it as being recent construction as well.

A humbling experience for a giant.

We stopped the truck, parked along one of the solitary dusty dirt roads paralleling the line.  I got out with my camera for a first detailed look at one of the pole tops.  Yes, these lines were old.  The poles showed little aging, hardly any shell rot was to be seen, and by peering at the tops of the poles where they had been cut, hardly any interior rot.  “I’d say these poles were pretty high quality, Harry,” was my comment as we walked across broken wire and split crosarms littering the landscape.

Lunch time. On our way to meet the I & M people at Battle Mountain.

We then drove on to a number of other locations for this author to photograph areas of the progress of linewrecking.  Here, we encountered the actual Bell efforts: the process was logical and progressive and done safely.  Because of thefts, higher priority was given to this project by Bell to their contractors.

At lunch, Harry suggested we meet the line crews in Battle Mountain, Nevada.  This would give me a chance to ask questions and find out more about the thefts and how they would counter potential problems in the future.

Battle Mountain is a good stopping point on I-80.  It has a colorful name and was dependent upon the Central Pacific Railway for most of its early founding and life.  Mining and transportation was the major recipient of the town’s rise to success.  It still is.  Mining particularly, as it became a boomtown when copper in large quantities (logically concluding it may have ended up in the very lines of the Transcontinental Line I was there visiting) was found in hills to the south of town.

A company called DuVal invested millions of dollars in the copper mining districts which soon caused the city to expand wildly.  With the advent of a discovery of gold at those copper mines, a quick transition heraled even greater prosperity. 

Gambling, too, has its roots here, as in most Nevada towns.  The Owl Club is right downtown and the Nevada Hotel is a landmark. 

Harry suggested we stop at Donna’s Diner on the west end of towntown.  I was told it “was a really nice place to stop for lunch.”

Lunch break in Battle Mountain, Nevada.

Detail of pole cut by thieves and toppled for the copper. Note how 60-year old pole contains little shell or interior rot.

Here is a pole stub viewed from above (not far above) the ground, where thieves had maliciously cut poles to down them.  The interesting thing about these 60 plus year old poles was their considerable ability to defy decay.  Even in this example, the heartwood of the interior of the structure is dense and clean of any rot.  There is also no shell rot, as these poles were prime examples of good preservative impregnation.  While their species is not known, they probably were taken from nearby Western forests in Idaho, Oregon or Washington states.

Stripped bare of conductors, this solitary pole stands with Mount Tobin (over 9700 ft. elevation) in the distance.

This solitary bystander on the landscape caught my attention and took this photograph of it with the mountains in the distance.  Here the elevation is higher than it appears.  Those mountains are only five thousand feet higher than the Basin area where this pole and I were planted, however, we were still higher than Lake Tahoe in the west!

As you can see, the weather was rapidly changing.  The gray clouds began to skirt the mountain tops and the breeze became a constantly charging wind.  It was getting a little cold on the camera fingers!

You can’t but feel some emotion when you see these old poles gasping their last breath and the noise of wind whispers through their hair . . .  From the other photos here, especially the detail of the crossarms as they lay on the ground, their time had finally come.  Repair and replacement was simply too costly.  Fiber systems had greater capacity and for even regional needs (which this line had been relegated to for the last 30 years), its condemnation was not unrealistic.

Yet . . . it was the end of an epoch.

Detail of downed pole top.

Creaking and groaning under the burden of line wire, these arms were ready for the boneyard.

Please note on closer inspection, the crossarm drilling of the insulator pin holes.  Apparently, these arms had been drilled for 10A or 10B steel pins at one time.  They were then re-sagged and re-drilled to accomodate CS-type insulator pins.  All arms were treated fur with rounded tops and 5/8″ center machine bolt connections.  All carried steel pins, including the pole pairs which were presumably phantomed at one time–they had wooden cobs on steel for greater strength.

Post prandial trip back out to the T.C. near Golconda Summit.

We parked the truck where line wrecking had yet to reach this intact portion of line.  Kneeling down in the center of the construction road, I took this photo.  Line wire, poles and arms marching as far as the eye could see.  Certainly as George Stewart saw it when he followed old U. S. 40 westward.  Today, it is but a memory and a photo.

Looking up for the last time at the “Magnificent Pole Line” that was the Central Transcontinental.

What a sight!  Looking up and thinking the kind of weight these poles were supporting!  I could just hear this line saying, “I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive!!”

My last view of the line intact and unwrecked.

Harry and I stopped at one last pole on the ground.  He asked me whether I wanted a souvenir?  We cut several line wires, with insulators and ties off a downed arm.  There were several boxes of CS and CSA glass to ship home and some pins, as CS pins in the Midwest were a rarity and hard to locate.

Harry dropped me off at the I & M Center and I departed for Reno.  It had been an exhilarating day and the time spent with the Nevada Bell people had been generous, to say the least.  Their kindness and thoughtful treatment of this Midwestern visitor had been most gracious.  Along with these photos I can remember vividly the standing posture of these stalwart poles of the Central Transcontinental. 

Bright evening setting sun illuminates this terminal pole of the T. C., Nevada. Rest in peace.

 Santa Fe working circuits (2016), Pauline, Kansas.