The Brightline Model

Brightline is coming! With two trainsets on the property and limited service starting in July, the most interesting passenger rail initiative currently going in the country is set to launch. Although I admit to lingering skepticism of the long-term viability of the high-end, private model of intercity passenger rail, Brightline appears to be on track to get service up and running, and it is at the very least an interesting experiment, a return to the days when railroads made a significant percentage of their revenues from land development (a grand tradition on Brightline’s home railroad).

It’s interesting, then, that Brightline is projecting an image of confidence not just about its initial Miami-West Palm Beach service and the eventual expansion to Orlando, but about prospects for future expansion elsewhere as well. In an interview with Trains Magazine, Brightline execs stressed expansion within Florida–Tampa and Jacksonville being natural targets–but, in the words of interviewer Bob Johnston (no relation), “didn’t rule out” the possibility of taking their model elsewhere in the country as well. What Mike Reininger–formerly president of Brightline, and now moving over to sister company FEC Industries–did tell the magazine, though, is potentially interesting:

“We don’t have any specific targets or notions about markets that Amtrak is serving,” he explains. “Our thesis is that there are major population centers 250 to 350 miles apart that are underserved or don’t have the capacity within their infrastructure systems to respond to (mobility) needs that could benefit from the type of service we are talking about, on a profitable basis as opposed to necessarily a subsidized basis.”

In a separate interview with Railway Gazette, Reininger touched on much the same topic:

‘Florida is not the only area where there are overcrowded roads and interstates’, he pointed out. ‘We are fulfilling our vision here in Florida, but we are not exclusively bound by the state borders. We have a belief that major cities that are 500 to 600 km apart set themselves up as prime candidates for express passenger rail, and can be made to work. We want to apply that throughout the USA.’

While we still don’t know whether Brightline can be successful in its near-perfect situation in Florida–sharing track with a supportive parent freight company that is well-known for its fast, scheduled freights and high-quality infrastructure, a rarity in American railroading–it’s clear that the company is thinking big. Inasmuch as one can speak of a “Brightline model” that could theoretically give American intercity passenger rail a jolt, it would seem to consist of two overarching elements, one of customer service and one infrastructural. On the customer service end, Brightline clearly sees itself as a high-class service; it intends to make money and has invested in high-quality equipment to that end, offering assigned seating and two classes. The more interesting question, to me at least, is infrastructural. Given how near-perfect the FEC situation is for Brightline, are there, indeed, other corridors around the country which their model might fit? From the two interviews above, we can begin to glean a sense of the criteria that Brightline or a similarly minded company might apply in developing a new corridor.

Market:  A service like Brightline can’t just be plopped down anywhere. It has to reach “major population centers” that are currently “underserved” by intercity options, and that are wealthy enough to afford a premium service. Obviously there is some fungibility here, but there are also clearly minimum requirements that need to be met.

Distance: Reininger gave different numbers in the two interviews, but Brightline is clearly looking at mid-length corridors somewhere between 250 and 400 miles in length.

Minimal capex: I could be totally misreading Brightline’s intentions on this one–after all, they do intend to pursue a remarkable investment in a greenfield line to Orlando–but it seems fairly reasonable to say that they could not launch such a risky endeavor without the comfort of having FEC’s minimal-investment-needed to fall back on for the first stage (to be fair, they have sunk significant money into double-tracking and stations). For future expansions, though, it’s probably good to assume that someone operating on the Brightline Model would want to roll out service on a right-of-way that is already well maintained or that can be rehabbed without too much effort, and that allows rollout capital expenditure to be kept to a minimum.

Willing freight partner: This might well be the hardest criterion to meet. Brightline will save money by splitting track maintenance costs with FEC’s freight business, but American Class 1 railroads (the largest of the freight railroads) are notoriously unfriendly to passenger service. Surely, the Class 1s would be willing to negotiate in some circumstance (and might even find themselves relieved to be working with an organization that’s not as dysfunctional as Amtrak), but I suspect that Brightline expansion would come easier in partnership with a regional freight carrier like FEC or a government-owned line. Consider this one a flexible criterion.

Amtrak noncompete: Reininger’s wording in the Trains interview isn’t totally clear, but it doesn’t sound to me like Brightline is interested in immediately kicking off expansion with in-corridor competition with Amtrak. I’d bet that if Brightline expands outside Florida it will be on a corridor not already served by one of Amtrak’s corridor services, or where a state benefactor can kick Amtrak off relatively easily.

Ability to compete with driving: Reininger referred to metro areas that don’t have “capacity within their infrastructure systems to respond to (mobility) needs” in one interview and “overcrowded roads and interstates” in the other, so it’s fair to say that Brightline sees an opportunity to use America’s congestion problem to compete. And competing with driving is certainly easier than competing with flying, especially given Brightline’s choice of diesel-powered equipment on conventional right-of-way.

Given these criteria, then, where can we imagine, in this thought experiment, that Brightline might attempt to expand in the future? I don’t intend this to be in any way a comprehensive list of possible corridors, but it’s a start. The operative assumptions, in addition to the criteria above, are that a) Brightline would continue to operate similar diesel-powered equipment on conventional track and b) the company might eventually be open to partnering with government on some corridors.

The Front Range 

There have been various plans to introduce high-speed rail along Colorado’s Front Range, where much of the state’s population is clustered in a reasonably linear corridor encompassing Fort Collins, Boulder, Denver, Colorado Springs, and Pueblo.

The total length of the corridor is a little below what Brightline seems to be targeting, and much of the necessary existing trackage is controlled by Class 1s that may or may not be amenable to sharing. North of Denver, RTD is already obligated (and coming under fire for delaying) to improve the BNSF line through Boulder and Longmont to Fort Collins and might be open to private investment. South of Denver, the Joint Line offers extra capacity in places, especially with coal traffic on the downturn, but it still has a single-track bottleneck and is controlled by Class 1s. And of course there’s the matter of the foolish decision to turn the through-running Denver Union Station into a stub-end terminal. Still, the region remains wealthy, is growing, has a congestion problem, has shown a willingness to invest in rail, and is positively obsessed with PPP solutions. There’s also significant TOD opportunity–one major way for Brightline to make money–around the downtowns of each city along the Front Range.


Though currently operated by Amtrak, the state of North Carolina plays a significant role in the Piedmont corridor service linking many of the state’s major cities. Indeed, through a quirk of history the state actually owns the tracks. It’s a busy freight corridor, but a growing passenger market that’s also becoming wealthier, and it’s not impossible to envision the state wanting to upgrade passenger service in the future. North Carolina has been sinking money into double-tracking and other infrastructure improvements in recent years, so it’s possible capacity to expand passenger service will exist in the near future.

Hoosier State

This is perhaps the most obvious candidate; despite the collapse of Iowa Pacific’s attempt at running the train five days per week, returns were good during their tenure, and Indiana remains obsessed with privatization. The biggest challenge is certainly infrastructural; the trip from Chicago to Indy is just so sloooowww and CSX, which owns much of the track used, is rarely a cooperative partner. That being said many of the rights-of-way used are very straight and suitable for high-speed running if a private investor thinks they’re worth sinking money into.

Chicago, Fort Wayne, and Eastern

The arrow-straight former Pennsylvania Railroad mainline from Chicago into Indiana and Ohio is often mentioned as a strong candidate for passenger conversion; it is only tenuously necessary for freight service and is in fact leased from CSX to regional railroad CF&E at the moment. That being said CF&E’s rights end in the relative middle of nowhere in Ohio and Fort Wayne itself is a borderline candidate to be the sole terminus of a service operating under Brightline’s model. Access to larger cities in Ohio, such as Columbus or Cleveland, would almost certainly require working with a Class 1. And the line itself needs significant work. There are a lot of ifs here, but the line is in many ways the perfect 125 mph diesel corridor if they can be worked out.

Twin Cities-Duluth

As with the Front Range, there’s an active effort in place to bring passenger trains to this corridor. As with the Front Range, though, the needed ROW is controlled by a Class 1. And the Duluth-Superior area may not be wealthy enough to justify a for-profit premium service. A strong local belief that demand exists persists, though, and if enough money can be scraped together there’s also a parallel, mostly abandoned ROW that could be reactivated.

Memphis-Jackson-New Orleans

This corridor sprang to mind primarily because a large chunk of the northern section is outside of Class 1 control, albeit in horribly decrepit shape. South of Jackson, service in this corridor would need agreement from CN, and the whole region is relatively poor and might not be suited for a high-cost premium service.

Dark Horse: the Moffat Line (Denver-Salt Lake City)

I label this a dark horse mostly because the operating paradigm would be a little different from the other proposed here; the corridor is almost 600 miles long, as opposed to Brightline’s stated ideal of 250-400 miles. But I previously wrote about the Moffat Route’s potential as a passenger-primary corridor, and the decline of coal traffic that prompted that train of thought has only continued apace. This was, after all, the route of the last full-scale privately operated passenger train in the country; the two endpoints enjoy strong demand and cultural ties; and the restored Snow Train has been doing well. At 12-13 hours vs. 8 to drive, the current California Zephyr is not time-competitive, but with some work an improved version dedicated to just this segment might be able to close the gap some, especially in winter. Perhaps a couple of trains per day over the Rockies would complement a Front Range service well. But who knows! The daydreaming is the fun part of this.


The major conclusion I’ve come to in this brief attempt at analysis is that finding a good situation for expansion along the lines of what Brightline envisions in Florida is really, really hard. Many of the “good” corridors are already occupied by Amtrak; while it’s not really that hard to envision a good private-sector operator doing better with some corridor services than Amtrak has, there is significant political inertia behind the national operator. And Amtrak’s fares are, and will be, cheaper, which is a significant concern in areas where trains represent the more downmarket option.

The bigger concern for passenger service expansion, though, is domination of the needed infrastructure by freight railroads. In terms of national policy, it should be noted, this is not necessarily a bad thing; it should be a goal to keep freight on trains and off highways. But it does make rolling out new passenger services exceptionally difficult in many different phases. Brightline has a near-perfect situation going in Florida with the ability to share FEC infrastructure on a friendly basis; ultimately, I suspect, it will remain a Florida-only operation. But who knows! Five years ago, would anyone have expected a privately-funded passenger train operation to make it off the ground at all? If Brightline succeeds, and Texas Central gets off the ground, there might be two running in the US within the next several years. Now that would be something.



Ironies of Highest and Best Use

I went to the Roslindale Square/Village RMV to convert my NY license to a MA one yesterday. While I successfully converted the license, the trip was a pain because a) I was available to do it because I was home sick from work and b) the RMV has clearly not learned the lesson I keep tweeting at transit agencies, that inaccurate real-time estimates are worse than none at all (I was given an estimate of zero wait and ended up being there for 45 minutes, standing the whole time in a room that was incredibly hot and smelled strongly of pot and people). It did, however, give me a chance to check out the area some, and in particular (the exterior of) a building I had wanted to see, the former Boston Elevated Railway Company substation at the corner of Washington Street and Cummins Highway.

A substation, you might think, would be a boring and utilitarian building. Not so! Remnants of traction systems past–and there are many, since the power systems (as opposed to the tracks) tended to be heavily built–were in fact often elaborate in design and construction.


The Roslindale Substation, from Adams Park across the street.

The Roslindale substation features beautiful brick construction and high, arching windows; while it’s clearly a building with an industrial history, it’s the furthest thing from today’s functional but ugly boxes. Most interestingly, perhaps, the substation occupies a place of honor and importance in Roslindale, at the intersection of two busy streets (and transit corridors) and in the absolute center of the neighborhood.


On the one hand, this makes sense, since several trolley routes historically converged at this corner, as seen in a 1936 map:

ros square substation 36

On the other hand, it seems like placing a substation–as opposed to, say, storefronts–on such an important corner would have been a terrible violation of the zoning/real estate principle of highest and best use, although it should be said that the substation was built in 1911, before zoning swept America. To a certain extent, surely, the substation’s location was the product of a disconnect between transportation and land use; from their own perspective, it made perfect sense for BERy to place it there in 1911. And for much of the building’s history, demand for land in Roslindale Square was relatively low; it was, after all, vacant for 45 years, until just this year. But–and here’s the irony the title of this piece refers to–the area is now somewhat up-and-coming, and the substation is now in the process of being converted to commercial use (an already-open craft beer store and a restaurant to be called the Third Rail), with the remainder of the lot taken up by new apartments. As the planner’s proverb that I just made up goes, every lot finds its highest and best use, sometimes it just takes 106 years.

Interestingly, much the same story unfolds just a few miles down Washington Street toward downtown Boston, with BERy’s former Egleston Square substation.

Egleston substation walgreens

Like Roslindale Square, Egleston Square historically represented the convergence of several transit lines, and was thus a logical place to put a substation. Unlike the Roslindale substation, this one served both streetcars and the Elevated, and thus remained in service until the closure of the latter in 1987. Like its more southerly counterpart, though, it fell into abandonment and ruin thereafter, until being resuscitated in 2008 to serve as the studios of Boston Neighborhood Network Television. As you can see from the Streetview capture above, the building is a remarkable contrast to the low-slung, suburban-style Walgreens next door–the high-quality architecture of a century ago continuing to pay dividends. While Egleston Square as a whole is not the world’s most urban-feeling built environment, the substation should–after nearly a century of life as an industrial building–be able to help anchor its rebirth in its new role.

If there’s a point to this post, other than that people do interesting things with old trolley substations, it’s that good architecture endures and tends to lend itself to a positive use in the long run. Like life, land-use dynamics are unpredictable and changeable, which is (part of) why locking uses and styles forever, as American zoning slanted toward single-family uses typically does, is a bad idea. Did the architects who designed the Egleston and Roslindale substations in 1909 and 1911 ever imagine the buildings being adaptively reused for another purposes? Unlikely, although they were clearly built to last. This is not to say that every abandoned building can or should be reused, but it’s a useful reminder of the way demand for land can change over the course of a century. And who knows? The Go Boston 2030 transportation plan, released just today, calls for rapid bus lines to pass both substations. Though they’ll most likely never power trolleys again, both substations could again serve an important transit-oriented use (as they do relative to local bus service today), as attractions drawing people to their neighborhoods along the transit corridors of the 21st century.


Trolleys and Rail in the Capital District: Interview with Capital Green Scene on WVCR, 7/2/2016

At the beginning of July I was invited to do my first radio spot, appearing on the local radio show Capital Green Scene (WVCR 88.3 FM, Siena College’s station) to talk about transit and transportation in the Capital Region. We recorded the show on July 1st and it aired July 2nd, but I’ve only just now gotten the audio files, so here they are. The interview is in two segments, embedded here separately. I had a blast doing this; hosts Bill Helmer and Brian Nearing, who found me after a few of my articles on All Over Albany intrigued them,  are great guys who ask really interesting questions.

Watch for a new segment with me on Capital Green Scene appearing on Labor Day Weekend as well…

Part 1


Part 2

Rhode Island and an Incipient Critique of Commuter Rail

My post from last year about the woes of Rhode Island’s Wickford Junction park’n’ride investment enjoyed a brief renaissance last week when Streetsblog linked back to it. How convenient, then, that Wickford Junction was in the news again this week when Rhode Island state legislators used it as a reason not to provide state funding for the (probably much more useful) long-awaited infill station in Pawtucket/Central Falls.

Let’s get one thing straight: Wickford Junction and Pawtucket/Central Falls are completely different scenarios. Pawtucket has regular service throughout the day (albeit at crappy frequency), while Wickford Junction…doesn’t. And then there’s this:

Wickford Junction

The physical setting of Wickford Junction station

pawtucket setting.PNG

The physical setting of future Pawtucket/Central Falls station

Wickford Junction is completely cut off from development of any kind, while Pawtucket station would be located in one of the densest areas in all of New England. Comparing them, in other words, is pointless at best. No wonder Providence blogger Jef Nickerson, in his own words, “went ballistic” when the legislature approved funding for a garage in downtown Providence after ignoring the train station.

I want to dig a little deeper into this, though. Let’s consider quotes such as this, from Patrick Anderson’s Providence Journal article linked above:

The free-market Rhode Island Center for Freedom and Prosperity has put the station plan in its cross-hairs, adding the funding bill to its “five worst” list for the year and saying it aligns with a “submissive philosophy” that Rhode Island should be considered a suburb of Boston.

Although the Center for Freedom and Prosperity critique of the station is unnecessarily couched in parochial provincialism (and, likely, in deep denial of the benefits that closer links to the booming Boston economy can bring to Rhode Island), it almost unintentionally touches on a serious critique of the “commuter rail” mode: it serves one kind of trip, and one kind of trip only. The libertarians substitute a critique of the station for what should be a critique of the mode of transit, perhaps because the answer to the question “how does commuter rail become useful to all users?” is “more service, not less.”

When framed this way, the critique not only becomes more sympathetic, but reminds me of another anecdote I turned up in the process of researching my master’s paper. When the Providence Foundation studied intrastate commuter rail from Woonsocket to Providence in 2009, the project team met with planners along the route to gauge interest in the potential new service. All showed interest, except for the town planner in Lincoln, where a station was proposed in the hamlet of Manville. The reasons given were fascinating, and a little bit sad:

The proposed Manville site is located near a low-income neighborhood, where residents could typically be expected to benefit from additional transit services. However, commuter rail – with its peak-oriented services – may not be a good fit for these residents who tend to work at jobs with nontraditional schedules. Moreover, the town planner in Lincoln indicated the most town residents were not interested in a new commuter rail station. (p. 71)

Justifiably or not, Lincoln’s town planner believed that commuter rail, as a mode, is not for “us” (us being anyone working in a job that is not white collar or 9-to-5). That’s not too far off from the idea that investing state money in a commuter rail station would only increase Rhode Island’s dependency on Boston, if we assume that “Boston” here stands in for white-collar jobs with little access for middle- or working-class Rhode Islanders. It may not be entirely apparent to the people I’m quoting here, but I believe the pattern indicates the very tiny glimmer of a kernel of a coherent, trenchant critique of the commuter rail paradigm.

Rhode Island has ambitious plans for commuter rail, both expansion of Boston-oriented MBTA service and intrastate, not to mention random private ideas for Providence-Worcester service. That’s admirable for a state of Rhode Island’s size, and the Providence Foundation study projected very positive results for Providence-Woonsocket service.

projected results providence cr

Projected costs and operational figures from the Providence Foundation study

That being said, I think the difficulty of gaining political traction for commuter rail in places like Pawtucket (which has been waiting for a station for decades, since its legacy one closed in 1981) and Lincoln reflect both the normal anti-transit animus of certain groups AND something deeper and more profound.

I devoted much of my master’s paper to developing the idea that American commuter rail has been socially and politically constructed as a luxury mode of travel for the middle and upper classes, one that serves only a niche subset of trips. In many other countries, mainline rail systems–often branded “regional”–operate frequently all day and on weekends, allowing use for numerous kinds of trips to numerous destinations. Perhaps, to build political momentum and promote a system that can be truly useful to a broad swath of Rhode Islanders, state leaders should consider something not less, but more ambitious–a regional rail system along the lines proposed by Peter Brassard over at Pedestrian Observations several years ago. Maybe  even that wouldn’t quite redeem Wickford Junction–but it might be the only plan that has a chance to.










Thinking in Networks, or Transit’s Political Challenge

Last week, New Jersey governor Chris Christie made headlines (in a small segment of the population at least) by poo-pooing entreaties to extend the Camden-Trenton River Line to the Statehouse, telling riders to “Use Uber” instead.  Now, the River Line is seemingly mediocre transit; despite forming a strategic link between two depressed cities, and connecting to strong transit options on both ends, its farebox recovery is atrocious (although it has shown some returns for the region).

That being said, it’s clear that the River Line’s Trenton terminus is in a less-than-ideal location. Although it connects well with SEPTA, NJT, and Amtrak trains, I think it’s fair to assume that most River Line riders are local, rather than making connections to destinations along the Northeast Corridor. And to reach many of the government jobs in downtown Trenton, those riders will have to walk a decent distance or transfer to a collection of buses branded as “Capital Connection.”

The Trenton Transit Center is on the far eastern end of the heaviest job concentration in Trenton.

trenton jobs

From Census LEHD

So: even if the River Line is mediocre transit, extending it a few more blocks into downtown Trenton isn’t a waste–it’s a key network connection that holds potential to be highly useful to lots of riders. And that’s where my take on the potential extension differs from Gov. Christie’s. Where the governor sees a question of expanding an underperforming transit system–that is, in a sense, rewarding underperformance–I see an attempt to redeem that same system with a relatively minor expenditure based on the principle of network connections. Indeed, is it possible that the statehouse connection could be the key to unlocking the River Line’s overall potential?

Much the same logic has been at work in Massachusetts, where Governor Charlie Baker has posed a dichotomy between “core operation” and “expansion,” as told to Politico:

“It just so happens our capital investment is in its core operation and not in expansion. But we see what happens when you spend all your money on the shiny new thing and forget about the fact that you have a core system that you need to invest in, to maintain, to enhance, and to modernize”

Baker’s commitment to this dichotomy has played out mostly in his administration’s skepticism toward the Green Line Extension into Somerville and Medford, and to a lesser extent on the North-South Rail Link. Baker has a point, of course, that MBTA and the state of Massachusetts have shown little capacity for effective project management, and there is a crying need to fix the maintenance and State of Good Repair backlogs facing the existing system.

But, like Christie, Baker fails to understand that the Green Line Extension and NSRL represent not “expansion” for its own sake but targeted infrastructural investments on the principle of building a transit network. Indeed, NSRL would enable the transformation of the MBTA commuter rail system from a collection of disconnected dead-end lines into a real network. In the dichotomous lingo that has taken effect in Boston, NSRL represents neither reform nor revenue, but reform through revenue (or really, investment), which, when needed, is the core logic of network-based thinking. It would take the system from this:

pre NSRL

Existing MBTA commuter rail network, from the North-South Rail Link website

to this:

post NSRL

One vision for a post-NSRL network, from the NSRL website.

To illuminate the conceptual challenge in convincing politicians to think in terms of networks, let’s turn to Jarrett Walker’s well-timed (for my purposes!) post from yesterday on core vs. edge debates. Of course, core/periphery fights are not precisely the same issue as opposing “expansion” that actually represents a key network link–but both represent a failure to think in terms of networks. In Jarrett’s words:

Once more with feeling: Transit is a network, which means that its parts are interdependent.  You cannot think about it the way you think about libraries or fire stations, where putting one in a certain place clearly benefits the people there, because the whole network affects everyone’s ability to get everywhere.

This is the key concept that, it seems, Christie and Baker have failed to grasp. Certainly, there are transit expansions that benefit only a discrete set of people within a region; many (politically popular) commuter rail and light rail extensions into low-density areas fall into this category. But many “expansions” have utility well beyond their own immediate area. The key is for decision makers to be able to differentiate between different kinds of “expansion”–and, in fairness to Christie and Baker, the political incentives are largely set up to make this differentiation hard.

Politicians face pressure to “give” everyone (that is, all geographic areas) benefits from government spending, which–and this is where we return to the parallels with the core/periphery problem–incentivizes spreading money around inefficiently rather than investing in geographically central yet regionally (networkily?) beneficial links. Would Christie or, especially, Baker, be more willing to risk some political capital on an “expansion” if it were seen as a key network link rather than a luxury whose benefits accrue to one particular area? Maybe, maybe not. But those of us with a stronger grasp of the concepts behind the transit can work on educating, those nonspecialists whose first instinct is to respond to the loudest voices.



A New Sleeper Train in the Rockies?

Featured image source

Prompted in part by experiences like this, I’ve thought a lot about whether Amtrak’s long-distance operations are at all viable. They’re unprofitable, slow, and infrequent, and seemingly constantly under threat–but also generally the most politically popular part of the Amtrak system, since rural elected officials love seeing trains in their districts.

In thinking about the long-distance trains, I often come back to this excellent Sic Transit Philadelphia post. The core of Michael’s theory is this:

I have a developing theory of sleeper trains, which is that they are essentially a point-to-point service. A sleeper passenger who is willing to pay a fare that is going to pay for most, or all, of her costs, wants a train that is leaving in the evening and arriving in the morning. Perhaps a short ride in daylight can cover more another market or two with the same departure, but the basic form is evening-morning. It requires two trainsets to operate the entire service.

The luxury of such a service is that timing can be somewhat loose; trains just need to arrive by the beginning of the business day. From a cost-savings perspective, a one-overnight trip could mean that passengers can eat before and after their time on the train, eliminating the need for an expensive dining car. Michael discusses several potential routes for such a service in his post, and it’s been an occasional topic of discussion on Twitter as well.

This topic came back to me earlier this week when I read Jim Wrinn’s pessimistic take on the future of the former Denver & Rio Grande Western main line through the Rocky Mountains. Apparently, this line, once dominated by coal traffic, is down to a couple of trains per day in each direction, plus Amtrak’s California Zephyr, the successor to D&RGW’s grand, long-lived (D&RGW kept operating it privately until 1983) flagship train. That’s not a lot of traffic to keep up a 570-mile line (including a 6.2 mile tunnel) in some of the most spectacular–and most brutal, for weather and maintenance purposes–scenery in the country.


System map of the D&RGW in 1965, featuring the Moffat Tunnel line. Source.

The coal traffic that once sustained the Moffat line is probably mostly dead for good. But, as Wrinn suggests in his piece, what if the former D&RGW could become one of the US’ rare passenger-primary routes? An unlikely proposition given the expense of maintaining it, surely, but the line does have a strong passenger heritage, and links two growing cities with extensive, recently built out transit networks that connect well to their intercity train terminals. And it’s just about the right length to trial the one-overnight model that Michael proposes above.

Today’s California Zephyr is essentially a day train, with a mildly useful but slow schedule westbound across the Rockies, and an equally slow but less useful one (3:30 AM departure from SLC!) eastbound.

CZ timetable

A 15-hour trip wouldn’t work to run a one-overnight trip with two trainsets, but it wasn’t always that slow. The 1952 Official Guide (indicate Denver & Rio Grande Western on the menu at left) has westbound train 17 at 13:40 from Denver to Salt Lake, leaving at 8:40 AM and arriving at 10:20. Eastbound #18 left SLC at a somewhat more civilized 5:40 AM and arrived in Denver at 7:00 PM sharp, for a time of 13:20. The Zephyr was a true day train in both directions, complemented by sleeper service at night.

And I think it might be time to bring that kind of service pattern back. With much less freight interference than in the line’s glory days and modern equipment (this line might work very nicely for tilting trains), it might be possible to get run times down into the 12-hour range. Even if that’s not possible and some train sets have to lay over, one day trip and one night trip in each direction–plus the Zephyr, whenever Amtrak feels like running it–between Denver and SLC might work nicely. The day trip would appeal to tourists wanting to see the spectacular scenery, while a barebones, no-meals sleeper operation could appeal to budget travelers who don’t want to make the stressful drive over the Rockies or don’t want to travel with a car. There’s also the possibility of restoring Ski Train service to resorts along the route, which current owner Union Pacific has been open to but Amtrak has been its usual obstreperous self about.

I don’t know if three passenger trains per day plus scattered freight service would be enough to justify the massive maintenance expense of keeping the Moffat Line open. I do know that the metro areas at both ends of the route are among the country’s biggest transit success stories, and have been highly creative in getting there. And I suspect that a day/night schedule on trains dedicated to SLC-Denver service could work. Hopefully someone will give it a try.