(The Minneapolis Star Tribune published the following story by Maria Elena Baca on its website on August 25.)
MINNEAPOLIS, Minn. — With a chug and a hiss the train leaves the station, gathering speed as it moves up the track. It passes pine trees and buckthorn; an oak flashes by.
Passengers squint in the rush of wind. Wiping sweat from his brow, the engineer pitches a tablespoon of coal on the fire. Vapor from the smokestack rolls down the line, stinging our eyes before dissipating.
Here comes a tunnel lined with corrugated metal. Hear the whistle bouncing off the undulating walls, and don’t be scared as darkness closes in. Look down the line; the circle’s getting larger. Soon the darkness is just a memory.
The St. Croix Railroad south of Hudson, Wis., conjures up images of days when railroads, not freeways, crisscrossed the countryside. There’s one big difference. The coal, gas, diesel and electric engines that pull the railcars probably could fit into the back seat of your car.
These are not model trains, club president Tim Kirby will tell you. They are miniatures, faithful to the massive engines that are their inspiration, mostly in one-eighth and one-twelfth scale.
“Everything about it is exactly like the real thing,” Kirby said, standing over his black steam locomotive. “Well, it is the real thing, except that it’s small.”
Some of the dozen or so engines have only enough room for an engineer and one passenger. But others, such as the steam locomotive Kirby shares with club vice president Cliff Hudson, can pull 10 gondola and flatbed cars, with room for as many as 30 passengers perched on empty milk crates, padded boards and seats that look like they’ve been taken from someone’s motorboat. Other trains include miniature dining cars, coal cars and tankers.
Miniature train parks aren’t rare. Communities worldwide support them in parks and town squares; others are supported by admission fees.
The St. Croix Railroad isn’t an amusement park. It was built for the enjoyment of the club. Visitors are welcomed, and their donations help to support the club, along with dues from 309 member volunteers.
The club does occasionally open its 9-acre park for public run days. Kids and adults (“They’re all kids here,” Kirby says) line up at a covered depot, craning to see the engines approach.
For everyone’s safety, there is a list of rules for passengers. Many are variations of the same theme: Keep your hands and feet to yourself. Don’t reach for branches along the line. Don’t try to touch the wheels. Face forward at all times.
Then, with a whine and a belch of smoke and vapor, the engine inches forward, the chugs and hisses blending as it reaches top speed. Kirby is busy tending the engine, feeding coal and managing the boiler. Even the little kids, who were dancing with anticipation minutes before, now sit contentedly, lulled by the rhythm of the rails as they watch the woods roll by.
It’s a good thing. If you stop to look, you might notice that some of the bridges don’t have railings; some of the passenger cars are flatbeds, and most of the seats are not bolted down. It is possible to fall off, but moving around is not a temptation. The train cars move through the tunnel, beneath a trestle bridge, where purple sedum grows between the stones.
Hobbyists from far, near
This is no 3-minute amusement park ride. For 10 or 15 minutes, the trains carry passengers along 4,500 to 5,000 feet of aluminum-alloy track, past the picnic grounds and the roundhouse, a one-fourth scale model of the Union Pacific roundhouse in Cheyenne, Wyo., roomy enough to hold 45 engines. Down a straightaway, you might see the miniature Burma Shave-style signs:
If you
can spare
a buck
that will
bring us
lots of luck.
St. Croix Railroad
Most of the 300 members of the 30-year-old club come from the Twin Cities area and western Wisconsin. Kirby is from Mendota Heights. Others come from Andover, Belle Plaine, and as far away as Sioux Falls, S.D. The club has members throughout North America. Kirby is one of the die-hards who come to work every spring and summer Saturday, in addition to the monthly Sunday public run days. Some members have campaigned to eliminate the open house days, citing crowd safety and concerns about their own valuable rigs, into which many have invested thousands of dollars and work hours.
But Kirby, who’s been playing with miniature trains since he was a boy in London, says it’s important to share the hobby. After all, how many real hobbyists are left out there, he asked, noting that there’s a computer game that allows people to pretend they’re engineering a steam locomotive from the comfort of their home PCs.
“It’s a cute idea, but I work with computers,” he said. “That’s my day, and at the end of the day I’m glad to not be staring at the screen.”
It’s hard to imagine that a computer program could replicate the sights, sounds and smells of the real rail line. And it’s hard to imagine Kirby anyplace but here. Garbed in striped engineer overalls, a denim shirt and work boots, he tops off the costume with a purple terry sweatband, a blue bandana and a filthy engineer hat dotted with St. Croix Railroad pins. He is most animated when he’s talking about his engine, and when his daughter, Hannah, 2, toddles over and climbs into his sooty arms.
The club soon will own the land outright, thanks to a bequest from longtime member Bob Ahrens. But the park can’t expand, landlocked by a golf course, a road, a steep bluff and a housing development.
That’s the reason this story does not give specific instructions on how to find the park. The park can handle a maximum of 600 people on a public run day. More than that, and the lines get too long, and nobody leaves satisfied. It is open to those who want to experience it, but you’ll have to do a little work first.
But then again, stepping back in time never has been easy.