Updated: The CP transcontinentals stir up young dreams in the 1950s

After hearing so many stories of life in rural Northern Ontario from my father, you'd think I'd get sick of them. But I don't. 

(Note: There was some confusion and errors on my part about what power pulled the transcons for CP in the 1950s and 1960s. Thanks to Eric Gagnon for setting me straight! That's why I ask the experts.) 

He told me a story the other day of growing up in Chapleau, Ont., where his father (my grandfather) worked as a rolling stock mechanic for the Canadian Pacific. My dad recently took the Canadian across Canada, allowing him to fulfill a childhood dream. He relayed to me a story after his trip, saying he used to enjoy watching the passenger trains go through his town when he was young, including the transcontinentals.

He recalls my grandmother telling him: "Those trains are for rich people." I think it might have been her gentle way of tempering his young dreams a bit, as my father was one of six children who grew up in a modest working-class household. Even though my grandfather had an employee's rail pass for the Canadian Pacific system, I doubt it would have been accepted for the premier transcontinental trains.

Above is a scanned image of a postcard I have in my collection of CP's early Canadian advertisements. I have this poster on the wall of my home office, where I spend my workday and where the Beachburg Sub takes shape. 

But I was curious about my dad's recollection. What train was it that he saw that ignited his imagination? The Canadian was launched in 1955 by the Canadian Pacific as the only streamlined transcontinental train across Canada with dome observation cars. CN's Super Continental could not boast the streamlined coaches or domes when it launched at the same time. 

Checking the CP Public Timetable from 1956, the westbound Canadian didn't arrive in Chapleau until 4:25 a.m., which means this was not the train my dad saw. However, the eastbound Canadian arrived in Chapleau at 7:21 a.m.*, which makes it possible that this is what my dad saw. 

(* - The timetable lists two separate arrival times for this train, the other arrival time being 7:06 a.m.) 

It should be noted that CP operated the Canadian from two starting points on its eastern flank at this time. One section operated from Montreal's Windsor Station, where it would make its way west via Ottawa, Carleton Place, Pembroke, Chalk River and through to Sudbury, where it would then be combined with the separate Toronto section of the train, which originated from Union Station in downtown Toronto. The Montreal section of the Canadian was Train 1 westbound while the Toronto section was Train 11. The eastbound return sections of the train, which were split at Sudbury, were Train 2 to Montreal and Train 12 to Toronto.

Postcard image of both CN's Super Continental and CP's Canadian at Ottawa's railway station in 1971. Both launched in the mid-1950s, these two transcontinental trains originated in Montreal, although CP also had another section of its Canadian that originated in Toronto (postcard courtesy of Eric Gagnon of Trackside Treasure). 

This image, above, is of the Canadian circa 1968 at Carleton Place, Ont., west of Ottawa. By this time, the train could have been fully transitioned to its CP Rail action red scheme, from its original maroon and yellow trim. However, I am reasonably sure that this was likely the style of Canadian that my dad would have seen in the late 1950s and early 1960s going through Chapleau. Photo is courtesy of the Canada Science and Technology Museum online archives.

There's another layer to this story from my dad. Was it really the Canadian that had him dreaming as  young boy? After all, the Canadian Pacific also had another transcontinental train, the Dominion, that made its way through Chapleau at the same time. 

Unlike the Canadian in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the Dominion was not a fully equipped streamliner. It was CP's second premier cross-Canada train, having begun operations in 1931 as a summer special before becoming a regular fixture in the timetable. This train itself was the successor to CP's first transcontinental train, the Imperial. 

Like its sister transcon, the Dominion also operated in two sections east of Sudbury, one originating in Montreal and the other from Toronto's Union Station. The Montreal section was added shortly after the train first began operations from Toronto.

Looking at CP's 1956 schedule, this train was clearly the forgotten stepchild once the Canadian was introduced. Its slower schedule meant it was significantly shortened after 1955, as its express mail business was shifted to fast freight trains and the speedier Canadian. The concept for the Dominion changed from a true transcontinental train to a train that provided local service across the continent. It seems as though its mission switched to being a local train that people would take to various points all along its run from the east to Vancouver. It soldiered on until 1966, when it was officially discontinued. In 1967, a version of the train was retained to take people to and from Montreal for the Centennial Expo.

But for my purposes, I am interested in when it made its way through Chapleau. Looking at the same CP timetable from 1956, the westbound Dominion arrived in town at 11:55 a.m while the eastbound arrived at 5 p.m.

This, to me, is proof that my dad likely saw the Dominion coming through town, and not the Canadian. Still, to a young boy, I would imagine either train would have been fairly impressive in the late 1950s and early 1960s. At a time when both CP and CN were seeing the last of steam, the steamlined transcons, likely pulled by sleek diesel units, would have been a modern marvel.

I'm assuming that, since the Canadian was all sleek and modern when introduced in 1955, the Dominion was still very much a product of earlier passenger rail cars, like this.

An example of Canadian Pacific's older passenger equipment that would have seen use on its transcontinental train, the Dominon, when the Canadian was introduced in 1955. This car was part of CP's Holiday Train in 2017, here making a stop in Finch, Ont.

The other question that comes to mind when considering my dad's story is what pulled the Dominion in the mid- to late-1950s? Thanks to Eric Gagnon of Trackside Treasure, I can confirm that this train was usually pulled by General Motors FP units in an A-B-A arrangement. The same was true for the Canadian. Here's an explanation from Eric:

The FPs (ordered by CP as dual service Freight/Passenger) were needed for the steam generators on the Canadian. They were four feet longer than Fs, due to the steam generator in the carbody. CP ordered eleven new FP9As, 1405-1415, and eight F9Bs, 1900-1907, for the Canadian. It also renumbered five FP7As (4099-4103) to 1400-1404. These FP7s had been purchased in early 1953 and had served on passenger and freight trains in southern Ontario. In dual service, they were geared for 77 mph. When dedicated to the Canadian, they were re-geared to 89 mph, the same as the FP9As.

 

 

This is an example of the type of locomotive that sometimes pulled the Dominion in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Photos of the Canadian show it being pulled by FP units almost exclusively. Photo is courtesy of the Canada Science and Technology Museum online archives.

What's interesting is that, in my searches, I found several images of PA units like this one above pulling the Dominion. This was clearly not the norm, judging by the images available of CP's transcons at the time.  

In sifting through some images from the 1950s in books, which I cannot not reproduce here, I did find one image of the Dominion making its way along the Lake Superior route in 1951. That train, pulled by a steam engine, had six coaches of some sort (possibly a sleeper or dining car, although there's no way to tell from the image), two baggage cars and four mail express cars. 

In the same book, I found another image of a passenger train with both streamlined silver and older red passenger cars intermixed. The shot shows the tail end of the train, with a curved observation car with the Dominion markers attached to the back of the train. This image looks like it was taken much later, but there is no way of knowing what train it is from the information in the book. It seems to me it is not the Dominion, which by all accounts was a short train after 1955. Maybe it was an expanded version of the train that served the demand for people going to Montreal's Expo 67.

But, in seeing this photo of the mix of older and newer CP passenger cars together, once again my research jived with information provided by Eric. Even in the 1960s, when the Dominion's status was very much in limbo, the consist of this train was very much a regular mix of older and newer passenger equipment, depending on when you caught the train. The train would look different depending on where it was at in its journey, with cars added on, depending on the needs of where it was geographically. 

All this to say, would a train like the Dominion, which was far removed from its peak, be enough to capture the imagination of a young boy in Chapleau in the 1950s? Maybe. 

From Main Street to the Back Forty: The Renfrew Subdivision (Part III)

In the first two posts about the former CN Renfrew Subdivision, I explored the rail line's creation as an important link between Western Canada and Eastern Canada. The line, as originally conceived, was meant to handle prairie grain at Depot Harbour on Georgian Bay and move it east. The same goes for timber harvested in Algonquin Park, which the railway's owner, John Rudolphus Booth, also controlled. In the 1930s, the line was severed in two in Algonquin Park, as a faulty bridge was never repaired. From that moment on, the rail line, now a CN concern, was a regional right-of-way with significantly less traffic.

Read Part I and Part II.

After that transcontinental resource and timber traffic died away, what were left were local freight and passenger services, linking the Upper Ottawa Valley with Ottawa. We traced the path of the CN Dayliner from Ottawa all the way to Barrys Bay in the first two posts. 

Through the years following the line being severed, the Renfrew Subdivision saw its share of interesting equipment, including the precursors of the Budd cars, the doodlebugs (as above). These units were meant to make marginal passenger lines more cost-efficient, but by the 1950s-1960s, the car was king and these passenger lines could barely hang on. 

In 1961, the passenger service was discontinued, as the line essentially became a marginal freight route. 

 

But, up until the discontinuation, you could ride the rails from Ottawa to Barrys Bay six days a week and back, except Sunday. There were even times when the passenger service came in the form of a full-fledged consist, with a steam engine, baggage car and coaches (all images in this post come from the Canada Science and Technology Museum Archives). 

 

As we explored in the first two posts, by the late 1950s and early 1960s, you could leave Ottawa's Union Station downtown at 4:30 p.m. and arrive in Barrys Bay at 7:30 p.m. via Budd car. If you were making your way to Ottawa from Barrys Bay, you would leave bright and early at 4:30 a.m. and arrive in Ottawa at 7:30 a.m., in time for some breakfast and the work day. 

 

However, the Renfrew Subdivision's story doesn't end in Barrys Bay, where regular passenger service ended. Up until the very end of passenger service in 1961, you could take a CN mixed train from Barrys Bay all the way to Whitney, which was the end of track after the line was severed in Algonquin Park. 

 

The mixed service ran Tuesday through Friday as 221 westbound to Whitney and 222 eastbound from Whitney to Barrys Bay. Since we took the train from Ottawa to the Bay in the first two posts, I thought it'd fun to take the mixed to Whitney in this post. There are very few passenger shots of the line past Barrys Bay, so we'll have to make do with what we found.

 

Barrys Bay Station - 9 a.m.

 

Given that the daily CN Dayliner arrived from Ottawa at 7:30 p.m., let's hope you found accommodations in town before getting ready for your morning departure west. This 1958 image, below, of a combine car, gives you an idea of what your accommodations would be on the mixed train west, near the end of service. 

 

From Barrys Bay, you'd be on the train for less than half an hour before coming to the first stop.

 

Aylen Lake flag stop - 9:20 a.m.

 

There are no images for this stop, which sits at the southern edge of part of Algonquin Park. It is listed as an access point for the park, so it makes sense that the railway would have service here at some point, if only for people looking to access cottages. 

 

From Aylen Lake, depending on if you stopped, you would make your way through the former flag stop of Opeongo, which is listed on the timetable, but without a time, which likely means it was no longer a stop.

 

Next up is a former division point and railway town, one that played a major role in the earliest days of the Ottawa, Arnprior & Parry Sound Railway. 

 

Madawaska Station - 10 a.m. 

 

A this point, you've been on the mixed train for an hour and have travelled 21 track miles or 35 kilometres. That means you've averaged about 35 km/h so far. This might be a result one of two factors. Either there were slow restrictions on this part of the line, or the mixed train might have to stop to pick up or drop off freight cars along the way. I can't imagine a lot of trackside business at this point, but you never know.

 

 

This is an image of the Madawaska Station in the 1940s, although it is not clear from the archives information when it was taken. The caption mentions that there was a railway restaurant in the station at this point. This all makes sense when you consider that Madawaska was once a service point for the railway, as evidenced by the roundhouse that once dominated the railway lands.

 

The text accompanying the images from the museum archives mentions the roundhouse was abandoned in 1933. This would make sense, as this was around the time when the line was severed, which would mean it was no longer a through route to Georgian Bay.

 

Here's another image that points to Madawaska's time as a railway servicing point. This image above is from the Grand Trunk era and is labelled as a coaling station. You can see the water tower in the background as well as a caboose. The photos tells a story of a town that once was quite prominent in the CN network.

Stay on the mixed train for another half hour and you get to the second last stop on the remaining subdivision.

 

L'Amable Station - 10:30 a.m.

 

At this point, you're about 30 track miles outside of Barrys Bay, in an area that, judging by the photos I found, is increasingly remote. This is the only image I could find of the L'Amable stop. The caption reads that the water tower was installed here when the tower in Madawaska was torn down. There is another shot of an earlier L'Amable train station on the Bancroft, Ontario website. According to this site, the community was popular with early settlers, who liked its fertile soils for farming. L'Amable is just south of Bancroft.

 

 

With this stop out of the way, you are now into the home stretch of CN territory in this part of the province. You are now headed to the end of the line.
 

Whitney Station - 11 a.m.

 

Half an hour after passing through L'Amable, you will arrive at Whitney, the end of the line for this subdivision. You can see that there are loaded cars, possibly full of agricultural goods. Off in the distance is a caboose as well. 

 

 

Again, the stations on this stretch of the line seem much more suited to cottage country. They do not follow the architecture of the stations closer to Ottawa. And while this rail line by the 1960s was a branch-line operation, there is some photographic evidence that the line still held an important purpose for local businesses and farmers.

 

This shot, above, is one of the first I found when researching this line. You can see a truck dumping farm products into a car on the right side of the image. This means that the subdivision was still very much a vital link for farmers and their markets in the 1950s and 1960s. You get the idea how much the transport of grains has changed by looking at this image. No hoppers or cylindrical Canada cars; just these cars, which are loaded from the top by dump trucks. 

If you needed to get back east from Whitney, you'd have to take the following day's mixed train back to Barrys Bay at 11:30 a.m., which would put you in the Bay at 1:30 p.m. In many ways, right up until the line was torn up all the way to Arnprior, the Renfrew Subdivision was a throwback in most respects. It served the small communities along its line for decades, until the business dried up. 

 

Today, these images, which were taken over the decades by Aubrey Mattingly, give us a clear picture of what life was like along the rails decades ago. We're incredibly lucky to have this time capsule available to see, which is not the case for many other forgotten rail lines across Canada. 

 

A special thanks to Eric Gagnon of Trackside Treasure for helping me figure out some aspects of the history of the rail lines in this part of the province in the 1960s. Between him, Steve Boyko of traingeek.ca and Kevin O'Neil, I was able to share some fascinating history for a forgotten stretch of track.  

From Main Street to the Back Forty: The Renfrew Subdivision (Part II)

In part I of this topic, I covered off the history of the Renfrew Subdivision trackage, which once extended from Ottawa all the way to Depot Harbour (Parry Sound) on Georgian Bay. The line, built by John Rudolphus Booth in the late 1800s, was a resource line at the beginning, carrying western grain from Georgian Bay and timber from Algonquin Park all the way to Montreal or Vermont, where Booth's railway lines (Canadian Atlantic) gave way to others. 

Over the years, the western grain shifted to Great Lakes freighters via the most recent Welland Canal and the timber in the park was exhausted. The line ceased to be a busy link in the transcontinental  network. The original Ottawa, Arnprior & Parry Sound Railway gave way to the Grand Trunk and finally the Canadian National. In more recent years, the line was cut back all the way to Arnprior and is now owned by Nylene Canada.

Undated photo of a freight train passing by South March (Kanata) along the Renfrew Subdivision. Photo from the Canada Science and Technology Museum online archives

But in 1959, CN still operated local service all the way to Whitney. West of Whitney, the line was severed in Algonquin Park. The western portion was then operated as a stub before it was shut down. As we outlined in the last post, you could still take a CN Dayliner all the way to Barrys Bay on the Renfrew Subdivision, although this service would not last much longer. It was discontinued in 1961.

We began our evening passenger ride from Union Station in downtown Ottawa, where CN's evening train left at 4:30 p.m. Here is what you could expect from this train.

Union Station - 4:30 p.m.

Bells Corners (flag stop) - 4:50 p.m.

South March (flag stop) - 4:58 p.m.

Carp Station - 5:08 p.m.

Kinburn Station - 5:19 p.m.

Galetta Station - 5:27 p.m.

At this point, we are leaving what was then known as Carleton County, later the Ottawa-Carleton Region, and what is now the City of Ottawa.

Once the train crosses over into Renfrew County, it will pass by the former flag stop of Marshalls Bay, which was listed on the CN schedule but without any service. At this point, the railway had already eliminated what it considered more marginal flag stops. The first stop after Carleton County would be Arnprior Station, one of the biggest towns on the line.

Arnprior Station - 5:35 p.m. 

This is a shot, also from the Canada Science and Technology Museum archives of the last CN Dayliner calling at Arnprior Station in 1961. You can see from the image that the Budd car is split in half with one part being for baggage and cargo and the other for passengers. There clearly was not much left in terms of demand. Still, from downtown Ottawa to Arnprior in an hour isn't all that bad. Try doing that by car on the Queensway-417 these days. According to the passenger schedule, the train has travelled 42 miles or about 68 kilometres. That means the train was averaging more than 70 km/h on the line, with station stops considered.

That brings us further west into Renfrew County, into the Upper Ottawa Valley, which once saw multiple train lines running through it (CN Beachburg, Renfrew subs and CP K&P, Chalk River subs). 

Glasgow Station - 5:48 p.m. 

What fascinates me about stops like Glasgow is how close they are to towns. Glasgow was less than six track miles from Arnpior, yet it still warranted a regular stop on the line. This tiny hut trackside is very much in the style of the South March Station, which we saw in the first post. Despite its rural locale, there are two tracks at Glasgow, suggesting there was a passing siding that was perhaps used for local freight delivery. You can see a large barn beyond the station. What I don't see is any road or parking lot next to the station. There looks to be a ramp from the building for a speeder to be eased onto the tracks.

Goshen (flag stop) - 5:55 p.m.

Just a few miles down the line, Goshen is listed as a flag stop station. There is no photographic record of what was trackside at milepost 53.4. but at this point, you would have been quite close to the actual town of Renfrew, so I'm thinking this was a minimal priority at best by 1959. 

Renfrew Station - 6:03 p.m.  

Next up is the town of Renfrew, one of the larger towns on the line. 

Renfrew was one of a few towns in the Upper Ottawa Valley that was served by two railways at one point. The town boasted not just a CN station, but a CP station as well. The CPR took over the former Kingston & Pembroke Railway, which terminated in Renfrew. Its Chalk River Subdivision once passed through town as well. This image above shows you what the Renfrew CN Station looked like 1972, 11 years after the last passenger train called at the depot. Unlike other stations on the line, Renfrew's seemed to have a more decorative turret on the roof instead of a squared off gable. 

It's interesting to note, as well, that CN also had facilities at what was known as Renfrew Junction. This image below showed its facilities at that junction. This building was demolished in 1957, so you wouldn't have seen it if you were taking the Dayliner in 1959.

Admaston Station - 6:15 p.m.

A few miles past Renfrew, you will reach Admaston, although no photos in the archive I check exist for this station. 

Douglas Station - 6:23 p.m.

A few miles past Admaston and you will hit Douglas Station. Here is an example of a station with different architecture compared to what we've seen so far. The platform is covered from beginning to end by a station-length eave. You can see a pallet at the end of the platform and a luggage cart. There's a piece of the community visible in the background to the right as well.

Caldwell Station - 6:28 p.m.

Three miles beyond Douglas brings you to Caldwell Station. There were no shortage of stops on this route for the Dayliner. There is no photographic evidence of what was trackside at this stop.

Eganville Station - 6:40 p.m.

Eight miles further west and you will come to another larger community on this line, Eganville, home to a well-known community newspaper, the Leader. Eganville has struggled in recent years, but the community was featured on the CBC Show Still Standing, where they profiled the community's efforts to keep going amid challenges. The photo below, also from the Canada Science and Technology Museum archives, shows you what the station looked like in the early 1970s, long after the last passenger train stopped at its platform.

 

Like other towns in the Ottawa Valley, Eganville once boasted a CPR station as well, when railways were building lines throughout the area in a competition to exploit the resources of the area. One reference to the CPR station stated that it was on the Eganville Subdivision, which terminated in the town. I had never heard of that old trackage before.

 

Golden Lake Station - 6:52 p.m.

 

We are beginning to near the end of our journey on the Dayliner. The next stop is the community with the picturesque name, Golden Lake. This shot, from the 1950s, shows you another example of somewhat unique architecture on the line. The station is a two-level structure without the angled roof and dormers that many of the stations on this line boasted. It looks more like a commercial building you'd find on a main street. There is a bay window jutting out onto the platform, where the station agent would have worked. The platform has two baggage carts. Off in the distance, you can see a boxcar set off on a siding.

 

Ruby (flag stop) - 7:00 p.m.

 

There is no photographic evidence of what was at this flag stop. But, again, it sounds quite nice, given its picturesque name.

 

Killaloe Station - 7:08 p.m.

 

Killaloe (pronounced Kill-a-LOO) is a name many people in Ottawa are familiar with, as this is a spot where many from the region escape to, as it is commonly known as cottage country in this part of the province. The community's station was very much consistent with other stations on the line closer to Ottawa. I would imagine that this area's status as a getaway was a source of passenger revenue for years for the Canadian National.

 

Simpson (former flag stop) 

 

At this point in the line's history, the Simpson flag stop is still listed on the schedule but there appears to be no service offered at this point, as the timetable does not even list a time.

 

Wilno Station - 7:20 p.m.

 

The second-last stop is Wilno, which is 105.7 track miles from Ottawa, or 170 kilometres. The station has a bit more of a rustic cottage-country look to it, which is in keeping with its location and surroundings. At this point, you've been on the train for nearly three hours and travelled nearly 200 kilometres. Not exactly a speedy ride.

 

Barrys Bay - 7:30 p.m.

 

Finally, you have reached the end of the line for this passenger run, 112 track miles or 180 kilometres from downtown Ottawa. Barrys Bay, unlike other communities on the line, has preserved its station and railway heritage. This is what the station looked like when you would have been taking the Dayliner. This photo was actually taken in the 1970s, after service ended. The station looked a bit rough, but the rail yard it still in place and the station looks like it is still ready to receive passengers or express cargo.

 

Now compare that to what the station looks like today, thanks to friend of the blog, Kevin, our eyes and ears in Windsor. Kevin was recently in Barrys Bay and shared these photos of the station and the adjacent water tower, which once served the railway.

 

The station looks great and has found new life as a restaurant in the community. 

 

 

 

I also like that the community preserved the CN sign on the water tower. It's the little things that make a difference.

 

There is more to the story of the old Renfrew Subdivision than this one train, which made its run between Ottawa and Barrys Bay six days a week (Sunday being the exception) as Train 689 and 690. I'll leave the additional service details for a third post, as the history of this line just keeps offering more for me to share and for us to discuss. I'll finish this post with another image from the Canada Science and Technology Museum archives of a CN special that made its way up the line into the Ottawa Valley in 1972. I would imagine that some of the 1970s photos in this post were captured by Aubrey Mattingly, who might have been aboard this special. It's incredible to me that so much history of this line was chronicled.

 

At one point, it seemed like every community in our vast country was either served by a train or was near a train line. Although much of the Renfrew Sub is a memory, we have lots of chronicled history to relive its glory days. One final post to come, which will chronicle another surprise.

 

Again, thanks to Steve Boyko of traingeek.ca and Kevin O'Neil for their help with this post. All photographs, except for the two modern Barrys Bay images, are taken from the Canada Museum of Science and Technology Archives.   

From Main Street to the Back Forty: The Renfrew Subdivision (Part I)

To most railway enthusiasts in Ottawa and Eastern Ontario, what was once the CN Renfrew Subdivision is now technically Nylene Canada's Renfrew Spur. The track hosts one train a week, delivering tank cars of caprolactum to Nylene Canada's plant in Arnprior.

CN 589 crosses March Road in 2021 en route to Arnprior. The weekly train is the last vestige of a long history of operations on the former Renfrew Subdivision. Just to the right of the track is Station Street, where the old South March railway station once stood.

But what many people often forget is this lonely right-of-way was once one of the busiest railways in Canada. Yes, that's right. In all of Canada. 

Today, you'd hardly even be able to imagine it. Let's start briefly at the beginning. John Rudolphus Booth built a rail line from Depot Harbour*, on Georgian Bay, all the way to Ottawa, where it connected to Booth's other railway, the Canadian Atlantic. The two railways were soon joined under the CAR banner. The Ottawa, Arnprior & Parry Sound Railway began operations in 1897. 

(*- if Depot Harbour sounds unfamiliar, it's because Booth made the decision to establish his own port, away from Parry Sound, to foil the schemes of railway speculators in the town) 

Why was it the busiest rail line in Canada? Two reasons. Booth gained timber rights in Algonquin Park, which provided a great deal of traffic to his saw mill in Ottawa, not to mention to eastern U.S. markets via the CAR's terminus in Vermont. 

Secondly, Booth's OA&PS also shipped as much as 40 percent of the grain from the Canadian west to the St. Lawrence, as the fourth Welland Canal had yet to be completed. This meant that shipping grain via modern freighters on the Great Lakes was not yet possible due to the limitations of the smaller canals in the Welland area. The final Welland Canal was completed in 1932, which essentially replaced the Renfrew Subdivision's source of through grain from the Prairies.  

Booth's line was incredibly busy before this development, which is why it isn't surprising that the operations were acquired by the Grand Trunk in 1905. Of course, the boom years inevitably came to an end.

A Canadian National passenger train makes its way along the Renfrew Subdivision in the 1940s at an unknown location. Photo from the Canada Science and Technology collection.

The sharp downfall of the old Booth line happened mainly because of the grain movements shifting south to Welland, not to mention the fact that Booth had exhausted the useful timber in Algonquin Park, meaning the two main sources of through freight were gone. That meant that, by the 1930s, the Booth line had very much shifted to a secondary railway line under what was then the Canadian National Railways company, which bought the Grand Trunk in 1923.

It was a swift decline for a line that opened up vast stretches of Algonquin Park to tourists, considering it led to the creation of the Highland Inn and Cache Lake Station in the park. Many people forget that the Renfrew Subdivision was one of two major rail lines that crossed through the park, the other being the CN Northern Transcontinental Line. That line, the Beachburg Subdivision, went through what is now northwest Ottawa into the Pontiac Region in Quebec before crossing back into Renfrew County and all the way up to Pembroke, Petawawa and beyond.

The writing was on the wall for the Renfrew line as far back as 1933, when a trestle over Cache Lake/Lake of Two Rivers in Algonquin Park was closed due to safety concerns. That meant the line was cut in two and never reconnected. The western section between Depot Harbour/Parry Sound and Cache Lake was operated until 1952, when it was closed for good. The eastern section, terminating at Whitney, on the eastern edge of Algonquin Park, soldiered on as a local branch line for some time.

Fast forward to more recent times when most of the car load business dried up. For many years, CN tried to rid itself of the trackage, even when it was severed west of Arnprior. The line's final customer,  Nylene Canada (formerly BASF), still requires train service, as it cannot easily receive its needed product, caprolactum, by truck.

In the 1990s, there was talk of BASF being serviced by CP Rail's Chalk River Sub, which also reached up through Arnprior at one point. That connection was never made and the Chalk River Sub is history. In the end, a compromise was reached, which meant that the former Region of Ottawa-Carleton bought the land on which the tracks sit, while Nylene Canada bought the rails. That relieved CN of the obligation to maintain the line. 

When the Ottawa Central Railway took over CN's local operations in 1998, there was no longer any real threat to the Renfrew Sub. But when OCR sold back to CN in 2008, the same threat that has faced this line for decades resurfaced.

CN now serves Nylene on contract each week, essentially with running rights on an otherwise dormant line. This system seems to work, although CN has tried in recent years to remove itself entirely from Ottawa once again. Right now, its focus is mainly on customers east of the city. 

I'm skipping over decades of freight train history on this line, but it's not altogether that different from what you see on other marginal train lines. Without major freight customers, a branch line is not going to survive in today's highly centralized world of transcontinental railways. 

I figured we could relive some history and go on a trip from Ottawa to Whitney on the Renfrew Subdivision. 

Luckily for us, rail photographer Aubrey Mattingly was busy taking photographs of railways in the Ottawa area for decades. His collection passed into the hands of the Canada Science and Technology Museum. Many of his photos include everyday, somewhat mundane scenes that are now invaluable to us as we piece together the past. 

Let's start at the obvious place: Union Station in downtown Ottawa. This is what the old station looks like today, as the home of the Senate of Canada, which has been displaced from Parliament Hill due to construction of the Centre Block.

Thanks to some information supplied by Steve Boyko of traingeek.ca and Eric Gagnon of Trackside Treasure, I can pinpoint the final days of passenger rail service on the Renfrew Subdivision. CN ran its final trains on the line in 1961, but let's take the train in 1959, which is a significant year. It was the last year that many of the vestiges of the line's heyday remained.

UNION STATION: 4:30 p.m. departure 

Taking a Railiner (RDC or Budd Car in other words), you will leave Ottawa at 4:30 p.m.

This leads you to the first stop, which is the Bells Corners flag stop. It's important to note that, prior to the building of the Queensway, much of the land where the highway sits was the Renfrew Subdivision. After the National Capital Commission began lifting rail lines in the city under an expansive beautification effort in the 19502, the Renfrew Subdivision was largely scrapped from where it began all the way to Nepean Junction, where it branched off the Beachburg Subdivision.  

Sadly, there are no existing photographs of the Bells Corners station, but I imagine it would have been near Bells Junction, where the CN line met the CP Carleton Place Subdivision, which is also where there was once a flyover crossing. There is also a chance that the station was located west of here, near where Highway 416 is now. It's important to note that the 416 cut was obviously level ground in earlier days. 

Twenty minutes to get from downtown to Bells Corners? That seems slow by rail. There must have been serious speed restrictions. 

BELLS CORNERS flag stop: 4:50 p.m. 

SOUTH MARCH flag stop: 4:58 p.m.

This is the station that got me on the case of looking up the story of this rail line again. You might recall that I took a first crack at the history of this line in this post from 2019. I have often wondered what became of the Kanata train station, which was located on Station Street, just off of March Road, in the eastern part of the former city. My mistake was looking up Kanata Station in online searches. Needless to say, Kanata did not exist as a city until 1978, which I should have known.

Before Kanata was developed in earnest from farm land in the 1960s, it was mainly a rural township called March Township, hence the station's name, South March. The photo below is from the Canada Science and Technology Museum collection, as are all the remaining black and white images in this post.

 

This image was taken in 1958, shortly before CN demolished this building in 1959. That is why our 1959 trip west is so significant. It would have been the last time you could see all of these historic relics of the Renfrew Subdivision's past.

CARP STATION: 5:08 p.m.

This image, from 1944, is evidence of how important the railway was to small towns on this line. The Carp station seems quite large for a community so small. It's important to remember that, in the 1950s, the road network in this part of Ottawa was not nearly as developed as it is now. Same goes for many parts of Canada. Post-WWII, cars took over and the road network largely replaced short-distance passenger rail. Even in 1959, taking the train on this line would likely not have been a popular choice, as the operation was just a few years away from being discontinued.

This is where the history becomes fascinating to me. Many place names that are familiar to Ottawa residents but show no sign of their rail history, come alive, thanks to these images. Which brings us to our next stop.

KINBURN STATION: 5:19 p.m.

Note the similarity of the architecture of the stations on this line. It seems to me they were designed to provide accommodation to station agents and their families. It's hard for us now to understand the need for so many stations so close together.

 

This photo above was taken in 1959, again right before the station was demolished by CN. It's amazing that someone would think to capture images of so many stations in the 1950s. That brings us to our next stop, still in the western reaches of what is now Ottawa.

GALETTA STATION: 5:27 p.m.

You must be thinking that you're seeing double. The stations along this line were very much carbon copies of each other in many places, particularly in the smaller communities. You can see an old luggage cart on the platform of this station and the freight shed, for people who shipped goods via the railway express service.

At this point in the trip, you will be leaving what was then known as Carleton County, later the Region of Ottawa-Carleton (now Ottawa), so we will pick up our trip further east in the next post. You are by now an hour into your trip and you're not even out of Carleton County. This train is the definition of milk run!

This is an image from my map of the CN Rail system, back when the Renfrew Subdivision was still in place to the town of Renfrew in Renfrew County. After the train leaves what is now Ottawa, there are a few more surprise in store on the line. That will wait for the next post. 

Winter surprises in frozen Ottawa (Part I)

I finally made it out to capture some winter railroading shots last weekend and it brought to mind a comic strip. I recall Calvin and Hobbes peering down from a high hill, wondering why they are about to hurdle themselves down the precipice in a wagon. I asked myself a similar question this past weekend, as I braved the -30 C conditions to get a few winter railroad images.

In between the frostbite and quick retreats to my car, I did manage to capture some interesting images. These shots helped me uncover a few pieces of news that I was not aware of before. I was in the east end of the city to drop my daughter off at a birthday party at a laser tag facility, so I had a few hours on my hands. 

As the facility was just across Saint Laurent Boulevard from the Canada Museum of Science and Technology, I decided to head behind the museum to the Bytown Railway Society storage tracks to see what BRS had resting on the rails in the frigid cold.

I was happy to see the former Thurso & Nation Valley GE switcher basking in the winter sun. This bidrectional engine was built in 1946 in Erie. Pa. It was used for plant switching at the Singer facility in Thurso for years. More recently, it was considered for use on the old tourist railway between Hull and Wakefield, Quebec. That never panned out and the engine was never used. Instead, it sat in storage near Edelweiss ski resort near Wakefield.The steam operation is long gone while the rails it used, CP's former Maniwaki Subdivison, are also history. BRS had the locomotive brought to the museum, where it was restored to operational shape and painted in a classic CNR livery. You can read more about its history here.

Right beside the GE switcher, the society had its Canadian Pacific wood slatted caboose 436436 sitting on an adjacent track in the sunshine. This car was built in 1913 and acquired by BRS in 1983. Like the switcher beside it, this car was used on the T&NVR. The car, after being acquired, spent three years in and out of Thurso until that railway closed for good in 1986. After the caboose was transferred to the museum, the society took off the plywood sheeting that it was covered in, to restore its wooden slat cladding, essentially restoring it to its original condition. The car was recently repainted and re-lettered. The caboose is now used for special events like Santa meet and greets. 

This image above was perhaps the biggest surprise I found on the museum tracks. The society's recently purchased steam locomotive was resting at the end of the museum tracks, connected to the old Central Vermont crane car. I was surprised to the see the skeleton of the old E.B. Eddy steam locomotive stored outside, considering what a big deal it seemed to be when the society acquired this piece of equipment from Exporail in Delson, Quebec in the fall.

The engine is called E.B. Eddy No. 2. At it stands now on the rails, its exterior cladding is clearly somewhere else, as the chassis and insides of the machine are exposed to the elements, with some tarps partially covering certain areas. You can see the various shots that chronicled its move from the Exporail shops onto a flatbed truck here. 

When the engine was acquired, there was work to be done with asbestos removal. The society also mentioned that work would have to begin on the engine's boiler, as it must meet safety standards before anything is to happen to make it operational. I would imagine this would be a long-term project.

The E.B. Eddy switcher is a throwback to a time when downtown Hull was a warren of industrial activity, complete with railway tracks serving the Eddy operations. Although Hull still has a paper facility on the waterfront, most of the former Domtar lands have been repurposed into modern condos and housing around Chaudiere Falls. E.B. Eddy's legacy lives on in the downtown, as one of old Hull's main streets bears the Eddy name. Some of the old stone match making facilities remain, although I'm unsure what is intended there.

Railway service to the Hull waterfront continued via the Canadian Pacific Prescott-Ellwood Subdivisions, over the former Prince of Wales rail bridge, up until the late 1990s. That service ended, essentially silencing the sound of trains in the old section of Hull for good. Although the Guebec-Gatineau Railway still technically reaches Gatineau, most of that activity is limited to the east parts of the Outaouais. That railway is operated by Genesee & Wyoming. 

For more on the rails in Gatineau, you can check out my 2018 post, which is still relevant today.  

Before departing from the museum, I managed to get a few other quick shots of what was on the rails.

The old CV crane car is at the very end of the museum tracks, coupled to E.B. Eddy No. 2. Indoor storage space for the society in the museum building is clearly at a premium, which is why I would imagine some of this equipment has to be stored outside. In recent months, the organization's old CP Jordan spreader plow car has found a new home, which leaves a bit more room for what the organization can fit outside now. 

The old 1955 CN baggage car, built by National Steel Car Co., remains a fixture at the museum, although the winters can be tough!

 

Here's one final shot of E.B. Eddy No. 2, which gives you a little more context as to its size, when framed against the CV crane car. It's not a huge locomotive, but it likely didn't have to be huge, as it was a switcher that worked the tracks a few cars at a time in downtown Hull.

 

I have another batch of photographs from Ottawa's central station from the same day, but I will save them for another post, as this one is long enough. It ended up being a very successful railfanning day for me, with a number of unexpected surprises. I'll be watching the efforts of the Bytown Railway Society closely as it works to restore the old Eddy switcher back to its operational condition. It will be nice to see a part of Hull's industrial story come back to life.  

How two railway photos helped spawn a book

The locomotive hissed and groaned as it inched its way forward. A small band of angry workers held its ground against the rumbling giant. A few of the workers shouted themselves hoarse, trying to get the engineer and the railway police to back off. Others hurled rocks at the train,which was attempting to push its way along the railway siding that led to the Nafziger Textiles plant. In the middle of the barricade stood a bewildered Eddie Daoust, a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger. He hadn't smoked in three years but couldn't resist a quick drag since he had a fierce headache from the diesel fumes and noise. 

So begins my short story, King Eddie, a tale that is included in my first volume of short stories, Sunshine at Night. The book was released in 2017 and updated just this fall to include another story (the original book had nine stories and I couldn't live with that).

The image I have included above is from a 1991 photo that was reprinted in my 2008 feature story in the Waterloo Region Record, the newspaper I worked with until 2009. The workers in the photo are striking employees of the Budd Canada plant, which was later known as Kitchener Frame. And yes, it is the same Budd company that also became famous for its rail car division. 

The Kitchener plant once employed as many as 3,300 workers by some estimates, as it was a key cog in the North American automotive parts network. The plant was opened as a direct result of the 1965 U.S.-Canada auto pact, which brought untold jobs to Canada. 

The plant had a colourful history, with years of unprecedented growth and profits, as well as years marked by wildcat strikes and layoffs. The plant closed for good in 2008.

When its owner, Martinrea International, closed the sprawling operation in late 2008, the head of the union local said something to me that was succinct and quite powerful. 

"This time, we won't get back up."

Indeed, it was an awful time in the region, as the automotive parts industry was decimated by the global recession and the freefall of the Detroit Three automakers. Kitchener Frame, in the end, made chassis for GM's line of SUVs, which was well on its way to oblivion.

That photo, to me, is a powerful image that fit the theme of the book Sunshine at Night. These were normal people doing something extraordinary, because they were fighting for what they believed. You don't have to agree with their point of view to admire their courage. The book is very much based on the premise that even the most ordinary life is extraordinary.

But it was the man in the middle, whom I later tracked down, that first inspired the character of Eddie Daoust, along with the man who was the union local president at Kitchener Frame. The man in the photo, John Coleman, had a look of determination in his eyes that made me think there was more to that image that needed to be told. You can even see his cigarette pinched between his fingers in the photo. It was a detail too good not to use in my story.

Truthfully, though, the story was mainly inspired by the head of the plant's union local, who told me, "This time, we won't get back up." He was a tough man, but fair. He often made things difficult for me as a reporter, but he earned my respect nonetheless. He didn't suffer fools gladly and was not afraid to be blunt when he thought the situation called for it. 

On the day I was laid off in 2009, I remember talking to him and he grudgingly said I was an okay reporter and did a decent job. It was high praise from him. I never forgot that brief exchange. 

I'm not mentioning his name, because he went on to other prominent community positions after his time in the CAW (Unifor now) and I honestly don't know what he'd think of my character, Eddie, and his resemblance to him.

But for our purposes, it was the railway image that sparked the initial seeds of the story, because it motivated me to wonder what it would feel like to be in a position where you had the fate of that many people in your hands with everything on the line. The drama was something that felt real and touching, to me.  

Here's the other image that also inspired much of the story.

This photo, above, is from the same story I wrote in 2008, when the old Budd plant closed for good. That story, which was a long feature that ran on the front page, is one of the articles I am most proud of from my time as a reporter. 

But it was this image of a train being held up on the tracks that also inspired my story King Eddie. I know from my dad's time as a unionized worker at a power plant that these types of stand-offs do happen, but this one just seemed too rich to not mine for a good story. That is why this image ended up inspiring the first scene in my story of workers holding off the charge of a train. I can't imagine what that scene was like in real life, but I enjoyed imagining it in my story.

In my time at the Record, I became more and more involved in labour reporting, which I found fascinating, given the high stakes at play in 2008 and 2009 when the manufacturing sector in the region was being pummelled by the recession. I remember once doing an interview with CBC Radio about one of these situations. It was a fascinating time to watch the human drama unfold and try to do it some justice through the written word. I miss that.

The other union stand-off that inspired my story happened at another plant in Kitchener, Ledco, which was owned by the same family that controlled Canadian Bank Note. Ledco was a small company by the time it came to my attention. The company, which once made components for the famed Canadian supersonic fighter jet, the Avro Arrow, was on life support when we received word that the company was essentially out of money.

Long story short, the owners had pressured the company's unionized workforce to take a 25-per-cent wage deduction and 20-per-cent benefits cut in exchange for keeping their jobs. Many of the unionized workers were already laid off, so it was already a tense situation.

What happened next made national news. The workers showed up to work and were locked out. A notice on the plant's doors said they were all terminated and that the business was closed. That began a tense stand-off where workers barricaded the plant and prevented the company's remaining products to be shipped. Ledco, like Kitchener Frame, was a parts supplier to the automotive industry.

Making matters more complicated, a few workers insisted to me that they had taken a vote of their peers and were prepared to accept the company's terms. That vote was not sanctioned by the union, which essentially meant the workforce was divided.

Then, some workers decided to break into the plant and occupy it. That lasted a few days until a court order declared the occupation illegal and cooler heads prevailed. 

One last footnote to the genesis of this story. There was one other plant that closed in my time in the region, which made felt products. I was shocked that such a business even existed in Canada in 2008-09, but it did. There were elements of that company's demise that made it into my story.

The whole point of this is to explain how much a muse the railways are to me in my writing. There is something about the railways and their impact on our country that makes them such a rich image and powerful inspiration to our art. 

It's not just me. How much art in Canada in inspired in some way by our railways?

He rolled down the window. He could hear the faint cries of the morning Via Rail train as it approached Louiston. He knew it would whiz through town just like it had done for years.  

The story, King Eddie, was the beginning of a prolonged period of inspiration that resulted in the book Sunshine at Night. And it was those two powerful railway photos that kickstarted the story, which ended up being one of the centrepieces of a book. 

If you ever wonder why I write about railways the way I do, maybe this will give you some insight into how my mind works. To me, there is an emotional response when I hear a train or see a train. There is something about them that resonates deeply within me. They have always inspired me and they will.  continue to do so.