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| A six-axle Baldwin working at Harvard, ID, Spring 1967. Fact or fiction? You be the judge. |
Logging by rail vanished completely from Potlatch Forest Industries’ Bovill and Elk River operations in the mid-Fifties. PFI abandoned its last logging branch, from Elk River to Camp 43, in 1950 and only maintained a small steam engine at Bovill for another year or two to shuttle cars around the truck-to-rail reload yards there. Down on the “Headquarters Side,” logging by rail continued to the close of the decade, but that was it.
This is where the story starts to get hokey:
. . . or so they thought. Only two years later, PFI management selected a large section of timber for harvest in the hills above Laird Park, not far from Harvard, ID. Although the distance from the harvesting area to the Potlatch mill was not great, and although building truck roads into the timber had become old hat to PFI, the company opted to try rail again. This was intended to be an experiment – one last chance for rail to demonstrate whether it offered any economic benefit to a modern-day logging operation.
Operating on a shoestring, PFI decided to build the line using “in house” resources rather than contracting with Morrison-Knudson or similar firms as sometimes had been done before. PFI gathered several of its old timers to consult on routing and constructing the line. Salvaged rail from PFI lines abandoned the previous decade was used for the loading tracks, while newer steel was brought in for the main line.
As built, the new rail route left the WI&M mainline at the Harvard siding and followed the Potlatch River for the first few miles before heading up a small draw to reach Camp. PFI hadn’t assigned the logging site an actual name, so everyone just called it “Camp”, even though no loggers actually lived there. The last several miles into Camp featured a few undulations, which resulted in short sections of stiff grades facing trains in either direction. A heavy duty locomotive would be needed to conquer these hogbacks, but it needed to be light on its feet to safely tread the budget-built line. That budget also would not tolerate a new locomotive, so PFI management went looking for a used engine to fill their needs.
The Baldwin Locomotive Works, known as Baldwin-Lima-Hamilton toward the end, had exited the locomotive business years earlier. Its products had a reputation as maintenance intense machines, and had never been very popular with larger railroads’ shop crews – or accountants. On the other hand, Baldwins were known as “luggers” that could tackle nearly any grade with a loaded train, as long as speed was not of any essence. With several Baldwin-owning railroads eager to purge them from their rosters by the Sixties, Baldwins could be had on the second-hand market for very reasonable prices. A six-motored example would have the needed tractive effort while keeping the axle loadings low.
Where PFI actually found their Baldwin is up for conjecture. It arrived in a weather worn yellow and green scheme with red striping at the color separations. No other railroad used this exact scheme – it looked like a mashup between the colors used by the Duluth, South Shore & Atlantic Ry. and the striping pattern found on Oregon & Northwestern Ry. diesels. Did it come from one of those roads, or from a larger trunk line? No one still seems to know.
It arrived with the letters "Wash Ida & Mont Ry." already painted on the sides in red, but there must have been some misunderstanding -- the WI&M had never been part of the purchase arrangement. To avoid any conflict with FRA mandates requiring 90-day inspections for common carrier railroad locomotives, the locomotive would need to be lettered for PFI instead. Also, no one was certain why it had been numbered 33 when it arrived – was that its original number, or the result of another misunderstanding between PFI and the seller?
The crew at the Potlatch roundhouse, which still stood at the time, was somewhat befuddled by this acquisition. The Potlatch crew were all Alco men – this was right after they shipped their two Alco switchers off to Tacoma for sale by the Milwaukee – and they weren’t sure what this creature was or how to properly care for it. Clearly, someone down at the corporate office in Lewiston had not been thinking clearly when they bought a Baldwin instead of an Alco.
Still, it fired up easily enough the first time, so the first order of business became fixing the lettering on the engine. Not having the resources for a full paint job, and not having a particular corporate scheme to follow, they decided to stick with the existing colors. After removing the WI&M lettering, the yellow underneath seemed a little thin, so, the workmen applied a long rectangular patch of yellow and hand painted the words “Potlatch Forest Industries” across that patch using the same lettering style as PFI’s then-current letterhead.
Choosing what number to give the locomotive also required considerable discussion. Back in steam days, the Bovill Side had numbered most of their Shay engines consecutively, starting with 101. The last one in this series (except for #200, which was acquired late in the program) was 110, so one suggestion for the Baldwin was numbering it 111. Someone else mentioned that on the Headquarters Side, numbering had been based on the locomotive’s tonnage, i.e. 70 ton locomotives had been numbered starting with 71. Looking at a spec sheet for Baldwin road switchers, someone noted their tonnage was in the 160’s, so maybe it should be numbered 161 - it also fit well with the engine's 1600 horsepower. That idea was rejected for the sake of simplicity, or maybe because the Bovill Side men preferred not to follow any Headquarters traditions. 111 it would be.
Lettering by hand was time consuming, so for other lettering needed on the unit, the shop used their standard set of stencils. On the short hood, they painted “Bovill Unit”to make it clear whose locomotive this was. They also painted safety reminders, “Caution” and “Work Safely” next to the step wells, and safety warning stripes along the edges of the pilot plates to hopefully prevent accidents at crossings and when working around other equipment.
One question the loggers asked the shop crew was about the need for a spark arrestor. Steam locomotives in logging service generally had them to ensure embers from coal or wood burning did not ignite any forest fires. Even though the PFI steam fleet mostly burned oil, spark arrestors had usually been applied as a precaution. The shop proposed a wait and see plan. The 111’s 608A engine had a turbo-supercharger which ran the exhaust gasses through a turbine, compressing the intake air to boost overall horsepower. Turbochargers were often enough to prevent sparks, but if the crews operating the train noticed any sparks, the shop crew was sure they could cobble up something.
A few arrangements had previously been made to allow log trains to reach the mill. In 1962, PFI had sold off the WI&M to the Milwaukee Land Co. The WI&M continued to exist on paper, but was now operated by the land company’s sister, the Milwaukee Road. Now that PFI was seeking to operate its privately owned locomotive and trains on the WI&M, legal arrangements had to be made. To avoid issues with union agreements, PFI basically contracted with the WI&M to operate the log trains on its behalf. Also, all locomotive and rolling stock maintenance would be provided by the WI&M, while PFI would maintain its own logging trackage.
Logging started at Camp just as the snows receded in Spring, 1965 and the 111 went right to work. Typically, the 111 would haul two strings of log cars from Camp to Harvard siding each day. Once the crew arrived with the second cut of cars, they would couple up to the first cut, tack on their caboose (WI&M X-5), and head for Potlatch. Most days, the "mainline" WI&M train, led by Milwaukee GP-9s, had passed westward through Harvard an hour or more earlier. Still, the log train conductor would call the dispatcher for clearance and authority to occupy the main track. With no lineside phones installed, he simply walked across the street to the HooDoo Cafe to call the dispatcher from the pay phone inside. Having a nickel in his pocket each day was just part of his job description.
The rest of the rolling equipment used on the Camp line came from a variety of sources, in various stages of disrepair; NP flatcars, MILW gondolas, and even a few of the remaining serviceable original WI&M truss-rod flatcars. Because of their condition, none were allowed in interchange service, but that was not necessary and not a problem. Over the few years the Camp line operated, the wood flatcars finally wore out one by one and were scrapped so that only the steel-framed cars remained.
No caboose was used for moves between Camp and Harvard, although it may have been safer to have used one for the backup moves. Per the tradition of earlier years, the locomotive always worked from the downhill end of the train, facing Harvard, to prevent runaway cars. For the shove up hill, a lone brakeman rode the first car heading up. Because there were no loads, the engineer could usually keep him in sight, and he watched for any indication from the brakie of the need for a stop. The brakeman usually carried a fusee with him, prepared to strike it and wave for a“washout”, but that seldom happened. The moves were never very fast, and he could jump off to protect himself if needed.
For the mainline runs to Potlatch and back, a caboose was necessary. One of the old WI&M ex-NP cabooses usually sat on the Harvard siding, just east of the Camp spur switch. Once the downhill train was past the switch, the crew would shove back onto the caboose and perform their air test while the conductor called for clearance. As with moves on the logging line, the eastbound empty train nearly always backed up for the eight mile run from Potlatch back to Harvard. The brakeman appreciated a more secure perch on the rear platform of the caboose, and used his pea whistle and lantern to signal for right-of-way at the few crossings they encountered.
PFI’s operation at Camp lasted only six years. By then, the useable trees had been harvested and it was time to move on. Looking over the books, the accountants were not happy. Whatever savings may have been realized from operating a single daily train instead of a fleet of trucks had not been enough to cover the initial cost of building the line.
In October, 1970, the last daily log train rolled out of the woods and off to the mill. The following spring, the old Baldwin made one last run to retrieve the few derelict log cars remaining at Camp. There was a final burst of activity for the 111 as it spent a busy week that May hauling off loads of rail removed from the Camp line back to Potlatch. The older steel got loaded into gondola cars and carted off for scrap, while the newer rail from the Camp line was stockpiled at Potlatch for future use by the WI&M. The log cars got cut up at Potlatch and loaded for scrap as well.
The 111 sat behind the Potlatch depot for several months, and then one day it was gone. PFI sold it to a used equipment dealer, but no one knew where it went exactly. PFI had maintained it in reasonable condition, so another Baldwin-oriented railroad somewhere, possibly ITT Rayonier, may have snatched it up and put it to work or dismantled it for parts. No one is certain.
