Big Trees and Pacific

Started: 2024-05-15 20:54:13

Submitted: 2024-05-15 22:42:09

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Riding a train from the Beach Boardwalk to the Big Trees; and also a bonus roller coaster at the Beach Boardwalk

Local excursion/heritage rail operator Roaring Camp Railroads operates a steam-powered narrow-gauge excursion train from their base in Felton (which I rode on Memorial Day weekend last year) and a diesel-powered standard-gauge between Santa Cruz and Felton. (I rode the Holiday Lights Train from the Beach Boardwalk to kick off the Christmas season last year.) During the summer they operate a shuttle along the standard-gauge tracks between Felton and Santa Cruz, offering round-trip travel from either destination. We drove to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk to take the round trip to Felton and back on the last Sunday in March.

The train was timetabled to leave at 12:00, but the inbound train had arrived late so our departure was also delayed. (This was the first day this year that the train was running, which may have contributed to some delay. They were also running a separate special out-and-back Easter service from Felton, ending somewhere in the redwoods and turning around, which also seemed likely to cause some operational problems on the single track.)

The train departed about 15 minutes late and began the long slow journey to Felton, pulled by the diesel locomotive at the front of the train. We shuffled past the Beach Boardwalk and crossed the end of Pacific Ave at the roundabout at the base of the wharf, under the trestle and into the wye next to the old train depot (which is now occupied by Depot Park). Here the train turned left into the wye, then stopped to let the conductor disembark and throw the switch so we could reverse direction the rest of the way to Felton, with the locomotive pushing us the whole way.

North of Depot Park the single track ran down the middle of Chestnut Street, running parallel to Pacific Ave a few blocks to the east. I've spotted the train running along the street (and, more often, heard the train horn as it trundled through town), and marveled at the spectacle of a heavy-rail train track straddling the middle of the road partially overlapping both lanes of traffic; this time I got to watch the street slide by while I was watching from inside the train.

At the end of Chestnut Street the tracks turned to the right to enter the Mission Hill Tunnel. We were sitting in a partially-covered carriage, with an awning suspended over us and open windows on either side, so we were protected from the waterfall at the mouth of the tunnel (presumably ground water from a recent rain finding its path of least resistance). The carriage immediately behind us was not covered turning the train ride into an impromptu water ride. (There was no warning that the uncovered carriages might get wet, but the forecast called for a decent chance of rain, even though most of the day stayed hazy and sunny, with a high thin layer of clouds attenuating but not blocking the sun.) A toddler saw the curtain of water approaching and started running down the middle aisle away from the oncoming deluge, with their parent chasing them.

Inside the tunnel the train was plunged into darkness, without any additional lighting inside the passenger carriages. The tunnel was short enough that it wasn't hard to see the lights at one end or the other, but I couldn't see anything inside my own carriage. I thought about pulling out my phone to use its flashlight but I didn't think I'd really gain anything by doing so.

The train crossed four lanes of highway 1 at the level crossing just west of its intersection with highway 9. We crossed the industrial section of Santa Cruz, between a sand-and-gravel yard and a concrete yard, then crossed the city limit into the forest beyond.

This was further than we had traveled on the holiday lights train, probably because at night the darkened forest would have not been especially scenic from inside an illuminated train. The forest was dominated by redwood trees, and the first part of our journey was on the hillside above highway 9, set far enough away from the road that we couldn't see it except for its obvious proximity on the map.

We crossed a dramatic trestle over a small creek, which was hard to see from inside the train on top of the trestle, then crossed highway 9 at a level crossing.

One of the crossing guards was broken so the train stopped just before the crossing so the conductor could disembark and flag down approaching cars to stop them. The train crossed the highway and the conductor jumped on board as the train departed.

North of the highway crossing the track turned deeper into the redwood forest in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. Most of the forest had been logged several times in the past two centuries; the trees that lined the tracks were smaller than the few remaining old-growth redwoods but still towered high above the train as we passed.

Half-way to Felton we encountered the Easter special out-and-back train, which had reached the end of its trip on the single-track railroad and was parked on the track ahead of us, apparently engaged in some sort of singing and maybe dancing before they would head back up the track.

Once the other train started moving we followed at an appropriate distance. The terrain grew more rugged and soon we were perched on an embankment high above the San Lorenzo River, running fast and muddy after recent spring rains.

Near the biggest old-growth trees at Henry Cowell, the trees next to the train tracks grew as well, giving us an idea of what we would see across the fence in the state park.

The train pulled into the depot in Felton for a layover that was nominally timetabled to be an hour but ended up closer to 45 minutes because we had arrived late but were still hoping to depart on time. We looked around the fake town, dressed up to look like an old west railroad town, crowded with people attending various Easter festivities. We found the building selling hot drinks (coffee and hot chocolate), and waited at the depot until it was time to board our train to head back to Santa Cruz.

Our trip back down the mountain followed the same route, with the diesel locomotive at the front of the train, now pulling us downhill. (This time we were ahead of the Easter excursion train, though it appeared to have been timetabled to depart ahead of us, but it wasn't clear if that was supposed to work in practice because there were no passing loops along the route.) We took the wye backwards so the locomotive was facing towards Felton when we finally pulled in front the Beach Boardwalk and we disembarked at the same point we boarded.

Before we left the Beach Boardwalk we took one ride on the Giant Dipper, the hundred-year-old wooden roller coaster, which turned out to be the first time any of us had ridden any rides at the boardwalk despite living in Santa Cruz for nearly three years. (When we rode the holiday lights train in December, we received stored-value cards for the boardwalk with $10 each, which was enough to buy one ride on the roller coaster for $8 each.)

I think the last time any of us rode any sort of amusement park rides was when we visited Legoland five years ago. (Since then there was a pesky global pandemic that put a damper on many amusements.) I'm not sure Julian knew what he was getting himself into; he was scared that the ride kept throwing him back and forth in the seat and had trouble holding on. I think Calvin enjoyed it. I was amused by the experience. I would ride the roller coaster again.