(The following story by Yuxing Zheng appeared on the San Diego Union-Tribune website on September 16.)
POWAY, Calif. — On sweltering summer days, most county residents barricade themselves at home or duck into air-conditioned stores, venturing no farther than the beach for a cool respite.
But a handful of devoted volunteers at the Poway-Midland Railroad Co. head to their beloved but unbearably hot steam locomotive, where the thermometer inside the cab has been known to rise to 155 degrees.
It may be among the hottest jobs in the county.
Every weekend for more than 16 years, about a dozen volunteers converge at Old Poway Park to take turns operating the locomotive, the trolley or the open-air speeder once used for track inspections.
On a recent Saturday, two teams of three volunteers operated the steam locomotive, which can easily pull up to 1,000 riders in six hours. The prized steam engine is celebrating its centennial this year, and the passionate volunteers love nothing more than to share it with adoring fans.
Volunteer fire tender Barbara Beck arrived at 7:30 a.m., 2 1⁄2 hours before the public’s first ride, to prepare the fire that turns water in the boiler into steam. She monitored three levers, which control the diesel fuel; the blower, which creates a draft that pulls the smoke out of the stack; and the atomizer, which disperses fuel into a mist to ensure an even, efficient burn.
“A touch more atomizer, but be real easy on it,” said George Popa, president of the volunteer association and the day’s train engineer.
Under the midmorning sun, the locomotive’s golden cab and black boiler glistened. Popa and Beck constantly ducked their heads to monitor both the smoke outside and the flames visible through the 4-inch hole in the firebox near their feet.
They looked for telltale signs that Beck had struck the right balance: Red flames indicate the diesel is burning inefficiently; yellow-orange means the fire has too much oxygen.
Beck, 63, fidgeted with the well-worn fuel lever. It’s an hours-long game of trial and error, endlessly adjusting and readjusting the levers to ensure that the thick smoke comes out just right: gray with a blue tinge.
Dozens of toddler-toting parents, many spilling over from the adjacent farmers market, soon began lining up on the tiny platform in front of the historic Nelson House. Ten, 20, 30 steam-engine fans kept arriving. About half the riders were adults.
About 30 people at a time filed into the passenger coach and plopped down on the two long pine benches, where all 22 windows were open in hopes of capturing a fleeting breeze. Soon they were off, with all the children perched facing backward, peering through the windows and waving to passers-by.
“It’s fun!” said Rhory Antaloczy, 4, of Poway. “Train is cool!”
Meanwhile, it was anything but cool in the cab, where Beck and Popa were starting to suffer in the heat. At one stop, the two soaked red and blue bandannas in water and tied them around their necks, and Popa dunked his cap in as well.
But the sweat continued seeping through the backs of their blue shirts. Safety precautions require volunteers to wear long sleeves and pants; some wear overalls and matching conductor caps.
“I came down to be a conductor and started doing it all,” said Beck, whose father and grandfather worked on trains. “I just thought it’d be cool, and instead it’s hot.”
The passengers didn’t feel the heat, and some were reluctant to leave the train.
“I want to go again!” Will Campion, 3, of San Diego screamed as he flailed toward the train in his mother’s arms. “Woo-woo!”
A close watch
As the train chugged through the 5-acre park, Beck and Popa incessantly eyed the tracks to ensure they were clear.
Park visitors sometimes leave objects, such as pennies or even toy soldiers, on the tracks, thinking a flattened GI Joe would make for a fun souvenir. (Popa once found a bullet about a decade ago.) But the speed of the locomotive and the angle between its steel wheels and the track can cause objects to shoot out violently, potentially harming anyone nearby.
On this summer morning, rocks left on the track created enough of a bump to cause Popa to swiftly halt the train and jump off to quiz several teenage boys loitering under a shady patch of trees. Few passengers detected the bump, and most glanced around, wondering what caused the delay.
Popa said he treats his part-time volunteer gig like a full-time job. He described himself as a temporary “steward” to a well-preserved slice of the past.
“I want the people who are children now to know that they lived in a town that had a steam-engine locomotive, and 25, 50, 100 years from now, I want this to be here for another generation to enjoy,” he said. “If we don’t take care of it now, it’ll go away like so many other pieces of history.”
The train allows Popa and many other volunteers to fulfill childhood aspirations of becoming a train engineer or conductor. Now, they all lay claim to the biggest train set on the block.
There are about 100 volunteers. Two dozen are certified firemen, including 15 who also qualify as engineers. Those interested in becoming a fire tender must complete a course on operating the train and log at least 12 hours of hands-on training. Most trainees spend about 16 hours before qualifying for their positions.
Beck, one of three female fire tenders, is training to become an engineer.
A colorful history
The engine, built in April 1907 by Baldwin Locomotive Works in Philadelphia, spent its early days hauling rock from a quarry near Santa Cruz to the local crushing mills.
A Vista man bought the locomotive from a scrap-metal company in 1960 and restored it to look as if it had been built in the 1870s. He even made new plates listing 1878 as the locomotive’s date of origin and crafted a passenger coach in 1870s style.
The train found its way to Poway in 1966, when John Porter bought the engine and passenger car. He built a tiny station, house and shed for the train on land that today is part of the park. Porter died in 1980, and the city of Poway bought the property and the locomotive in the late 1980s.
The city owns the train and pays for restoration. The nonprofit volunteer association, whose sole revenue is from ticket sales, is responsible for maintenance and operation. Running the steam engine costs about $20 an hour in fuel.
On this particular morning, Beck and Popa had trouble adding water to the boiler. “She’s a little fussy,” Beck said.
The crew brought out the trolley for a couple of rides, but it was obvious the steam engine won the popularity contest. When the engine returned, a waiting crowd of about 40 erupted into a raucous cheer with some clapping.
“That’s what it’s all about!” yelled a grinning Popa, who once again looked like a 5-year-old boy, transfixed by his life-size dream toy.