Standing between the hills, between the asphalt of the old Lincoln Highway and the nearby rails of the Union Pacific Railroad, is a lone palm tree. It seems out of place in such a desolate little valley. A palm tree usually evokes images of beaches and salt water, not of ranches and railroads. Yet, here stands a lone palm among the golden hills and dry grass. This little valley is hot and dusty during the summer, cold and wet during the Northern California winters.
Altamont Pass, formerly Livermore Pass, was the location of what was once the town of Altamont. The town grew around the railroads that came through the pass completing the last segment of the Transcontinental Railroad. Altamont was the summit where helper locomotives needed to haul long, heavy trains up the hill were uncoupled, their job completed, and turned back to the rail yard to wait for the next train needing help. Around this railroad activity grew small industries, a hotel, a school, and a church.
The two railroads that wound through Altamont were the Western Pacific (WP) and the Southern Pacific (The Espee). In 1915, the railroads were joined by a gravel highway which quickly became notorious for wrecks and deaths at one particularly sharp curve. Once the road was paved, the death and injuries decreased and the number of automobiles increased. The Summit Garage serviced cars and trucks traveling the Lincoln Highway in the 1920’s and 1930’s. Between 1936 and 1938, the highway was realigned for a more direct route and one with less of a grade. The town slowly ceased to exist. The school stopped being a school in 1955. The Summit Hotel had been torn down. The Espee’s depot eventually disappeared also. The garage continued on until the late 1950’s. Trains and cars rushed through Altamont just like the wind—passing through and never stopping. Altamont would later become famous for a rock concert gone wrong and then forgotten once more.
I began visiting Altamont in the 1980’s because of the railroads. The WP had been sold to the Union Pacific Railroad and this was the final days to see WP painted locomotives roll through the pass. I watched and photographed the trains as they glided through the tunnels and around the hills. When there were no trains to watch, my wife at the time, Karen, and I began to walk around the area exploring and speculating on what it might have been like decades before. We found old bottles, but even with a metal detector, not much more. It was mainly our way of escaping from our suburban existence in the Livermore valley below. Altamont was our spot. We imagined the Model A’s being gassed up or repaired at the garage, the folks arriving for church, or the kids playing around the one room school house during recess.
Around 1985, the Southern Pacific brought in a switcher engine and some freight cars to teach managers how to run a train. The company was anticipating a labor strike. I think what they found was that managers could manage offices, but not a locomotive and its cars. The strike never happened, but this was the last freight train for the 100-year-old road bed. In 1986, the railroad abandoned the Altamont route and began pulling up the rails. I photographed those final days, and the photographs reflect the feeling of abandonment and loneliness I was feeling in my personal life as well. Karen and I separated and I decided to move back to North Carolina for a few years. I made one final stop at Altamont before leaving. I ate Jack In the Box tacos and looked out over the Altamont Hills wondering how it might change before I’d return. I’d never return to Karen or Altamont Pass.
Today a commuter train shares the Union Pacific’s rails, taking workers from the town of Tracy, into the Bay Area and then home again. The Southern Pacific’s route is now a biking and hiking trail. Thanks to Google Earth, I can continue to visit Altamont Pass when the mood strikes. With the Southern Pacific gone, the property has been sold and apparently is now a ranch. Summit Garage there still, and is still in use. The old water tower can be seen along the UP tracks.
Also visible on Google Earth is that lone palm tree.
