Mardi Gras 1899

Anniversaries manage to find their way.

This year sees an interesting one for an ancestor of mine. One that marks a moment that changed his life and set in motion a career of 51 years, a family in northern Nevada and a life long passion for this writer.

Christopher Cameron Walker was my great-grandfather. He was born in the mining town of Eureka, Nevada on October 7, 1881. He was the firstborn child of Jonathan and Mary Walker. They were married in November the year before in nearby Mineral Hill, another mining camp where they both worked supporting the community. He was a saloon keeper; she was a house keeper in a boarding house. Not long after Chris was born, Jonathan and Mary moved to another booming mining camp named Safford. There Jonathan built one of the few structures and operated it as the Pioneer Saloon. Eventually, it became more of a general store.

As with many mining camps in Nevada, once the silver ore played out, the community moved on to other camps where things were promising. The Walker family grew, even as the business continued during lean times. Eventually, things had to change. So it was that in 1893, Jonathan took his eldest son aside and broke the bad news to him. At the age of 12, it was time for Chris to make his own way in the world. Jonathan could no longer afford to support him.

Now, at that time in central Nevada, there was not much in the way of opportunities for an uneducated young man. An apprenticeship was rare as most of the trades tended to be in bigger cities. Mining was limited to the places where ore was paying enough to cover costs and make a profit. Ranching was the other going concern as folks had livestock that needed attending.

Along the Central Pacific Railroad in that part of Nevada was the town of Palisade. From here, freight went to various mining camps. At first a toll road ran south and later came the narrow gauge Eureka and Palisade Railroad, running through the Pine Valley to Eureka, the county seat. The Pine Valley was so named because of Pine Creek that flows into the Humboldt River at Palisade. With water in the creek year round, the land was good for ranching with plenty of grasses for feed.

And here it was that Chris went to work as a vaquero. For the next 6 years, life was lived on the back of a horse working at a series of ranches. And from what Chris described, it was pretty much the same, day in and day out. He had the same slouch hat, the same pants, shirt, jacket and boots. If he was lucky, he may have had an extra shirt to wear when it got cold.

About the only thing of note was a yearly round-up of wild horses to be driven to the railroad for shipment east. A buyer would pay so much a head and the ranch owner would count his profit on the sale. The price differed from year to year, depending on the need. Sometimes, horses were sold for work. Others, just for meat and other materials processed.

The way Chris described it, the hired hands would herd horses into a box canyon from out on the ranch. Once that was done, the gathered animals would be driven to the railroad in either Palisade or Carlin. Often, such a drive was a multi day trip there and back again.

It wasn’t all dull on the drives. For entertainment, the hands would put up a pot of six-bits or so, to be won by the man who could ride a wild horse. Chris had a knack for riding and he said he could usually stay on. He claimed only to have been thrown from a horse once, when it was scared and reared up unexpectedly. The real trick wasn’t riding he said. It was saddling the wild horse, and that wasn’t part of the plan to win the pot. But it did make for amusement.

In the winter of 1899, there was a Mardi Gras dance to be held in Eureka. Now as a young man on the range, Chris was sweet on a particular girl he had met. Rumor had it that she was going to the dance as well. There was a whole group coming from out in the Pine Valley who planned to ride the train into town.

As the story is told, Chris had a miserable time at the dance. While he may have been sweet on the girl, she wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, she went out of her way to avoid him all night. After the dance, when it came time for the train to go back to Palisade, Chris didn’t want to ride with the rest of the group. He decided instead to ride with the crew of the train’s locomotive.

Remembering the night years later, Chris told of how he decided right then and there, that the life of railroading was for him. He tried to go to work for the Southern Pacific soon after and was turned away as being too young at 18 years of age. Instead, I believe he found work with the narrow gauge Eureka and Palisade that summer and gained experience as well as growing.

He hired out as a steam locomotive fireman in December of 1900, in Wadsworth, Nevada. His job took him over the original route of the transcontinental railroad on a line that hadn’t been greatly improved. Ties in the alkali dirt for ballast on light rail that had come around Cape Horn. He must have been good at the job, for he was promoted to engineer in 1906. He retired in 1951, being number one in seniority on the SP’s Salt Lake Division, running the diesel-powered Streamliner City of San Francisco; what was considered one of the finest passenger trains on the railroad.

He claimed never to have ridden a horse after he started his railroad career. Years later, after he retired, his grand children wanted him to go with them to see the rodeo in Reno. He declined. telling them that he “didn’t need to see the rodeo. He had already lived it”.

Had it not been for the Mardi Gras dance in Eureka and the young girl who spurned his interest, he might never have ridden in the cab of that narrow gauge steam locomotive and taken up railroading as a career. Now 120 years later, I will hoist a glass in his memory and toast his good fortune on Fat Tuesday.

I for one am glad he did!