BNSF crossing Colorado River, and the environmental goons near Needles, CA

September 15, 2005 found my wife and I heading home from a fantastic two-week vacation to tour the west and visit family members in Colorado. I had seen photos of BNSF's photogenic bridge that crosses the mighty Colorado River before, but I'd never had the chance to railfan and photograph the structure. As we were heading west from Flagstaff, Arizona, and my wife had suggested that we might want to do a touch of gambling in nearby Nevada, I was quick to arrange a stay at the Flamingo Hotel in Laughlin, Nevada. Check out the map, and you'll see that Laughlin is only about 25 miles from Needles, so it seemed like an afternoon of railfanning on the California/Arizona border seemed very likely.

Left: Flamingo Hilton hotel, in Laughlin, Nevada, as seen across the river in Bullhead City, Arizona. Right: Do you like these gas prices in Needles? Do you like $3.76 for regular gas? Yes, following the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, gas prices were high, but in Needles, the gas prices were outrageous! The gas prices were this high all over town.

I can already hear the roars from the railroad purists, with words to the effect of "Why did you put the Colorado River Crossing under your Needles Subdivision page when it's not actually on the Needles Subdivision?" Good question. I did it because it's near Needles, and it seemed to have more in common than my out-of-state railfan trips page. If I've offended anybody, I'm sorry. Topock, at M.P. 569.9, is actually on BNSF's Seligman Sub, which spans the distance from Needles, California, to Winslow, Arizona.

After we checked into the Flamingo Hotel in Laughlin, it was a 45-minute drive south on Arizona Highway 95 to Needles, just across the state line, in California. When I got to Needles, I was a bit confused, as I was under the impression that Needles is on the Colorado River, and the awesome bridge is at Needles. After looking around a bit and realizing my mistake, I pulled out a map and observed that the it is necessary to drive east on Interstate 40 for 10 miles or so. After topping off my gas tank with some very expensive gasoline, I headed east on I-40, and turned off on the National Trails Highway/Park Morai Rd. exit, the last California exit before crossing the Colorado River into Arizona.

Photos: BNSF colorful lashup westbound across the massive bridge that spans the mighty Colorado River, east of Needles. The California/Arizona border is just on the other side of the piling that just out into the middle of the river. Oh yes, Interstate 40 is to the right, as you can tell by the heavy truck traffic.

National Trails Highway is a remnant of Historic Route 66. As you exit the interstate, you'll soon cross the tracks and you'll have the Colorado River to your left. Just keep following the winding road for about a mile or so, and you'll soon pass under the railroad bridge. Just before the bridge, there is a nice, inviting dirt area that just begs to be parked on. Caveat: Don't do it! Don't even think about it! Whatever you do, don't park there! Yes, I know it's unsigned, but PG&E's "Environmental Ranger" goons are lurking in the distance, and these minimum-wage, wannabe-cop guys are the worst of the worst. More on them a bit later... Park your car directly under the bridge, as there's ample room and it's safe and legal to park there.

Before crossing the bridge over the river, the tracks enter a cut, so that means there's a hill on each side, making a high-vantage point shot, my favorite, a simple matter. However getting to the spot requires a bit a agility, as the terrain is steep, the rocks are loose and you have to choose your footing carefully. Just to the east of the bridge, there is an inviting dirt road that would afford an easy drive, or walk, but it's signed "No Trespassing," as there is a mine there. I was OK with that, so I simply climbed up the mountain, where there were no signs, and soon I found myself overlooking BNSF's tracks, the bridge across the river, and the river itself, from M.P. 566.2.

Left: BNSF #4337 leads a manifest freight east, just before plunging onto the spectacular bridge that will carry the consist across the Colorado River, eastbound into Arizona, and beyond. Right: How did the city of Needles get it's name? From the spectacular rock formations, just a few miles to the west of town and always, visible.

I'll let the photo captions tell the story about the trains I photographed. Needless to say, on a subdivision that averages nearly 90 trains daily, you don't have to wait too long before a train comes your way. What an awesome parade of railroading! The weather was nice too. I spent about three hours on the hills, railfanning on a mid-September afternoon, and the temperature was only in the mid-90's, which is mild for the Mojave Desert in mid-September.

Previously mentioned, I had parked my van in a wide, graded, as what appeared to be a parking lot, just east of the bridge. I parked next to a "junker" Ford truck, that had a lot of contractors' stuff in the back, and it appeared to have been sitting there for quite some time. There were no signs advising that I was parking on private property, or trespassing, so, being the honest type that I am, I assumed everything was OK and I parked my van next to the junker Ford. Heedful of the "No Trespassing" sings posted on the mine road, I made my way up the embankment to the railroad tracks, and set up for the afternoon's photo shoot.

Photos: I can't read the number on the leading unit, but a BNSF westbound double stack container train crosses the California/Arizona on the bridge that spans the mighty Colorado River.

Probably an hour or so later, I noticed a white Jeep "Liberty" parked next to my van, and three men got out of the van and started walking around my van and they seemed to be scrutinizing it from every angle. They were all dressed identically, wearing tan, "docker-style" pants, and a medium blue polo shirt, emblazoned with a PG&E logo. Their actions got my attention, as I could plainly read the words attached to the lower part of their Jeep, "Environmental Ranger," caused me to think that these guys were for real. Yet, don't real rangers dress like cops, carry guns and, well, don't they act like cops? These guys were snooping around my van like a bunch of junkyard dogs, which probably reflected upon the lack of training they've received and the minimum wage they earn. I should have just let them snoop around, however, I thought they were "good guys" so I stood up, waved my hands, shouted, in order to get their attention and show them that I was up to nothing wrong. They returned my wave, so I assumed that they had connected me with the van, realized that I was just taking pictures, and they would go on to do their environmental thing, or whatever the mafia-dominated PG&E has hired them to do, and realize that I wasn't doing anything wrong.

I forgot all about these goons, as I had a couple of trains to photograph. Next thing I know, I see their "Liberty" driving up the "No Trespassing-labeled" mine road, probably a 100 yards from me. In a few minutes, I'm treated to a visitor, a young, 20-s something guy of obvious latino descent, clean-shaven, and neatly groomed, who gave his name as name of Nick Delacruz. He approached me and appeared to be very professional, friendly and polite. However, all of that turned out to be only a facade, as the cop-wannabe proved to be an under-trained, low-mentality, boor. "Mr. Environmental Ranger" was wearing the following uniform: Tan, docker-like pants, blue polo shirt, with PG&E logo attached to his shirt. Does this "uniform" command authority? If he carried a gun, wore a badge, and was dressed like a real ranger, in the model of the National Park System, I'd listen to him, but a guy dressed up to attend a soccer-captain wannabe...? Command authority? Huh? Really... ?

Left: Another BNSF double stack container train heads westbound into California from Arizona. Right: BNSF #4708, leads an eastbound double stack container train nearing the bridge crossing the Colorado River.

So Mr. Nick Delacruz, a.k.a., "Mr. Environmental-friendly-guy," ambled up to me and greeted me in a very friendly, professional way, and asked me what I was doing, standing out in the harsh, dry, Mojave desert, with just a notebook, a jug of water, and a camera. I told him that I was a free-lance writer, in the process of photographing BNSF's crossing of the Colorado River, at the California/Arizona border. He then started to give me a lecture about the dangers of rattlesnakes, horned-toads, coyotes, and the perils of dehydration in the desert, and how I could get bit at any second by a rattlesnake, and how the snakes were waiting behind, practically every bush or rock, just to attack me. I countered Nick's speech with the fact that I had been playing around in the desert for 40+ years, and I was familiar with the dangers and, thank you, I was well-prepared to take care of myself. I pointed out to him that there was nothing but isolated clumps of sagebrush in the area, and that rattlesnakes prefer to live in rocky outcroppings and there were none in the area. He then started to lecture me about desert tortoises, which are a valid environmental concern, and I said I hadn't spotted any of them, but if I did, I knew what to do, as I'd been a member of CA4WDC for over 10 years, and the conservation thing is a big thing with CA4WDC, and we watch out for the tortoises.

Next, Mr. Nick, "wannabee-cop, a.k.a. Good Guy" started rattling on about desert and mountain safety and how much water I needed to bring with me, first aid kits, survival food, and all of the usual claptrap that you'd expect to hear from a dude that probably didn't pass his high school exit exam, flunked every I.Q. test in the book, and was a San Bernadino County "Mountie" wannabe, but was kicked out the door before his first job interview with the cops. Such is the sort of "wannabe-cops" that PG&E hires. Hey, what kind of "professional" do you expect to get for minimum wage? The shareholders of greedy PG&G get richer, and the poor, "wannabe" cops get poorer.

After that avenue of conversation was exhausted, he started talking about possible injuries I could sustain from being where I was, and I assured him that I am insured well into the next second century and that if I was stupid enough to get myself injured, I wouldn't hold the PG&E mafia accountable. I could not believe the crazy stuff this stupid moron was asking me! That wasn't good enough for Mr. Nick, or more appropriately , "Mr. Nick, the Talking Horse," so I said, "Go see your boss, and I'll sign a waiver so if I get injured, I won't account your parent company, PG&E, liable." End of story. So, Mr. Nick proceeded to trudge down the hill, to supposedly talk to his boss.

Left: BNSF #4181, heads a westbound double stack train to Needles, Barstow, and beyond. Right: The light as faded, so I can't see the number of this unit, but it's heading a double-stack container train west in the direction of Barstow, just west of the crossing of the Colorado River.

Not more than five minutes had passed before Mr. Nick was back, in full force. He told me that since his boss had not authorized a waiver, that he was asking me to leave. I told him fine, I'll leave, so I moved about 20 feet to the west, past a broken-down barbed-wire fence, and told him that I was now on BNSF property and to call the railroad if he objected. He huffed and puffed, and finally left when I asked him where is proper uniform was, where was his badge, and where was his gun. Before he left, I told him that I felt that he was doing a great service to the environment, and earning minimum wage doing it, and that I was proud of him, I felt safer, and that if he'd give me his mother's address, I'd write an "atta-boy" note upon his behalf. I think I got the guy mad. However, since small-brained Mr. Nick seemed like he was mad, so I thought I'd better leave, as they possibly could make up some false story about me and call the sheriff. After all there were three on them, as I was by myself. Anyway, it was late afternoon, and the bright lights and the slot machines of Laughlin were calling me away from the tracks.

Left: BNSF #5444, makes it pretty clear that she heads a westbound container train at M.P. 565.9, at the west side of the awesome bridge that crosses the Colorado River. Right: Beware! The "Goonmobile" which is packaged in a plain-vanilla Jeep Liberty. Caveat: Watch out for these minimum-wage, wannabe-cop-guys, as they're nothing but mentally-challlenged morons.

Gee, this was only meant to be a railfan trip, not a political statement. When you railfan BNSF's fabulous crossing of the mighty Colorado River east of Needles, please pay attention to my writings, and hopefully, you'll avoid the wrath of PG&E's goons. Stay safe, stay legal, and you'll have a great trip. Watch out for the hired goons that are employed by Pacific Gas and Electric Company, as these guys are "bad dudes," and certainly not friendly to railfans.

No, I didn't win any money at Laughlin, but we had a good time, and, except for PG&E's goons, I had an outstanding railfan experience.

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