Yes, I know what you’re thinking, to wit: Railroad archæology? What the hell? What the hell does that mean? What could railroads ever have to do with archeology? And what’s with the æ in “archæology”, anyway? What’s that all about?
All fair to ask. So I’ll do what I can to answer. To begin: The æ in “archæology” is there because I like it. There’s no more to it than that. Words are more fun when they have wacky (to us blinkered Americans, anyway) letters in them. So here at least, archæology has an æ.
As for the other, well, what is archæology, anyway? Well, I don’t have the first damned clue what a bona fide archæologist would say, but as for me, archæology is just rooting around, looking for old stuff that can tell us something about days gone by. Maybe it’s something small, like a chip from some 3000 year old pot; maybe it’s something big, like the ruins at Copán, Honduras. But it’s old stuff that lets us see a little less hazily into the past.
So, what do railroads have to do with that? Everything. Now it’s true that you won’t get much archæologizing done poking around along, say, the main line from Philadelphia to Baltimore. But if you go north 20 miles or so, you’ll find yourself in the neighborhood of the old Mushroom Train, the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Octoraro Branch, which ran from Wawa, Pennsylvania southwest to Port Deposit, Maryland. Freight trains still run between Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania and Oxford, Pennsylvania, but the line east of Chadds Ford and west of Oxford is abandoned, and if you take the time to poke through the woods and the weeds, you'll find old bridges, cuts, sidings and all kinds of other railroad ruins, some of which, especially between Rising Sun, Maryland and Port Deposit, are downright spectacular.
This is the stuff I mean to put up on this blog: The forgotten public works of the forgotten lines of the mid-Atlantic. Some of this will be mundane--small trestles over narrow creeks; sidings rusting away at the edge of some field somewhere along what once might have been a busy line; or bridge pilings sitting forlornly in gullies somewhere with no bridges left to hold up.
But some of it will be worth finding out about, and even seeking out yourself, like the twin bridges over Octoraro Creek: One, fairly low, old, unused and rusty, which lifted the Octoraro Branch over the creek; the other, a 60 foot high concrete arched bridge, carrying the Columbia and Port Deposit Branch over both the creek and the smaller trestle. Or the Paulins Kill Bridge near Hainesville, New Jersey. This is one I haven’t seen, but I’m itching to. Or the Safe Harbor trestle at Safe Harbor, Pennsylvania (picture here). This is another one I’ve never been to, though I’ve been within a few miles of it too many times to count. Next time I’m in Lancaster County, I’ll get there.
There are countless interesting railroad ruins in the mid-Atlantic U.S., and I mean to see them all. I might not get to every last one of them, bit I’ll do what I can.
All fair to ask. So I’ll do what I can to answer. To begin: The æ in “archæology” is there because I like it. There’s no more to it than that. Words are more fun when they have wacky (to us blinkered Americans, anyway) letters in them. So here at least, archæology has an æ.
As for the other, well, what is archæology, anyway? Well, I don’t have the first damned clue what a bona fide archæologist would say, but as for me, archæology is just rooting around, looking for old stuff that can tell us something about days gone by. Maybe it’s something small, like a chip from some 3000 year old pot; maybe it’s something big, like the ruins at Copán, Honduras. But it’s old stuff that lets us see a little less hazily into the past.
So, what do railroads have to do with that? Everything. Now it’s true that you won’t get much archæologizing done poking around along, say, the main line from Philadelphia to Baltimore. But if you go north 20 miles or so, you’ll find yourself in the neighborhood of the old Mushroom Train, the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Octoraro Branch, which ran from Wawa, Pennsylvania southwest to Port Deposit, Maryland. Freight trains still run between Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania and Oxford, Pennsylvania, but the line east of Chadds Ford and west of Oxford is abandoned, and if you take the time to poke through the woods and the weeds, you'll find old bridges, cuts, sidings and all kinds of other railroad ruins, some of which, especially between Rising Sun, Maryland and Port Deposit, are downright spectacular.
This is the stuff I mean to put up on this blog: The forgotten public works of the forgotten lines of the mid-Atlantic. Some of this will be mundane--small trestles over narrow creeks; sidings rusting away at the edge of some field somewhere along what once might have been a busy line; or bridge pilings sitting forlornly in gullies somewhere with no bridges left to hold up.
But some of it will be worth finding out about, and even seeking out yourself, like the twin bridges over Octoraro Creek: One, fairly low, old, unused and rusty, which lifted the Octoraro Branch over the creek; the other, a 60 foot high concrete arched bridge, carrying the Columbia and Port Deposit Branch over both the creek and the smaller trestle. Or the Paulins Kill Bridge near Hainesville, New Jersey. This is one I haven’t seen, but I’m itching to. Or the Safe Harbor trestle at Safe Harbor, Pennsylvania (picture here). This is another one I’ve never been to, though I’ve been within a few miles of it too many times to count. Next time I’m in Lancaster County, I’ll get there.
There are countless interesting railroad ruins in the mid-Atlantic U.S., and I mean to see them all. I might not get to every last one of them, bit I’ll do what I can.
