Transcript
Chris Wimmer (0:01)
Put us in a box. Go ahead. That just gives us something to break out of because the next generation 2025 GMC terrain elevation is raising the standard of what comes standard. As far as expectations go, why meet them when you can shatter them? What we choose to challenge, we challenge completely. We are professional grade. Visit gmc.com to learn more. Does it ever feel like you're a marketing professional just speaking into the void? Well, with LinkedIn ads you can know you're reaching the right decision makers. You can even target buyers by job title, industry, company seniority skills. Wait, did I say job title yet? Get started today and see how you can avoid the void and reach the right buyers with LinkedIn ads. We'll even give you a $100 credit on your next campaign. Get started at LinkedIn.com results terms and conditions apply. By the start of the 1860s, the dream of a railroad stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific had existed for at least 20 years. Entrepreneurs and visionaries promoted the concept in speeches and pamphlets, even as train disasters took hundreds of lives. People called on Congress to fund the ambitious project, but it wasn't until the nation descended into Civil War that progress was made. President Abraham Lincoln signed the Pacific Railway act into law, green lighting the construction of a transcontinental railroad. Two railroad companies were charged with building it, and those two companies turned turned the project into a great race, sort of. Overseeing the construction from east to west was the Union Pacific Railroad. But from the jump, Thomas Durant, the man who controlled the Union Pacific, saw it as a way to line his pockets. When construction finally began in earnest in December 1865, he purposefully mismanaged routes and supplies as well as exaggerated the threat of Native American attacks as part of his scheme to siphon federal funds. But out in California, the other railroad company, the Central Pacific, took the race seriously. Construction had started on time in 1863 in the Sacramento area. Two years later, the railroad faced its most daunting challenge. In the summer of 1865, the Central Pacific Railroad was preparing to tackle the imposing cathedral like chain of mountains called the Sierra Nevadas. But in order to make it into the heart of the mountain range, the railroad needed to overcome Cape Horn. Cape Horn was essentially a small mountain that rose 1,400ft above the floor of the American river canyon. It was mostly covered with pine trees and brush, but in some places it was smooth, bare rock. It was nearly vertical, with no natural ledge for tracks. The railroad couldn't detour around it if the line was going to continue east. The Crew would have to carve directly into the cliffside. The Central Pacific's engineers had tackled steep terrain before, but nothing like this. Necessity is the mother of invention. And now the engineers needed to invent a way to create a ledge on the side of a mountain that could hold a train. The solution was to place workers in big baskets and lower them down the side of the mountain. The workers would then chisel parts of the ledge out of the rock by hand and use even more dangerous methods later in the process. In modern language, the idea was crazy, but they did it. High above the canyon, Chinese immigrant workers crawled into baskets dangled over the cliffs and chipped away at the solid granite. There were no safety harnesses and no secure footholds. Only thin ropes held the baskets in place. A strong gust of wind could send a basket spinning uncontrollably or send a worker plunging to his death in the river below. Watching from the ledge above them was James Strobridge, the Central Pacific's construction foreman. He anxiously paced back and forth and marveled at the methodical, precise work of the the Chinese crews. They were seemingly unshaken by the danger, but cutting a ledge into the cliff was only part of the challenge. To support the track, the crews also had to construct a massive stone retaining wall, a structure without mortar and built entirely by hand. It was made up of thousands of granite blocks, and each had to be cut and hulled, shaped and set with perfect balance. Some sections rose more than 75ft high, and one mistake could make the whole wall collapse into the canyon below. The structure, which is still there today, would be called the China Wall of the Sierra in the National Register of Historic Places. Above the wall, the men in the baskets carried out the next stage of the assault on Cape Horn. They drilled holes into the granite and packed them with black powder. They stuffed explosive charges into the hole, and James Strowbridge called out from above, powder ready. Workers lit the fuses and scrambled out of the line of fire in a flurry of swinging baskets on the side of the cliff. A few moments later, an explosion blasted bits of granite into the sky. When the dust cleared, a new segment of ledge appeared. And then the process repeated itself. For the next few months, the Central Pacific carved a path along Cape Horn inch by inch. By November, nearly two thirds of construction around Cape Horn was complete. And their reward for conquering the obstacle was to spend the next two years tunneling through the Sierra Nevada mountains. Foreign this is Legends of the Old West. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer, and this season is Hell on Wheels, the epic story of the transcontinental railroad. Despite countless hardships and obstacles, the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific did what many thought was impossible. They connected the American nation by rail. This is episode two, Mountains to Conquer. Long before the trials of Cape Horn, there was a man with a vision. Theodore Judah was not a man who entertained small ideas. Where others saw impossibility, Judah saw opportunity. And where others might see unbroken walls of granite, or Judah saw the path of a railhead. He was a slight man with greasy black hair and eyes that burned with restless energy. And he had one obsession. He wanted to build a railroad through the Sierra Nevada mountains. Judah was from Connecticut, had trained as a civil engineer, and had earned a reputation as a skilled railroad surveyor in the East. But those eastern rail companies had no use for his visions of grandeur. When California's gold rush turned the Pacific coast into a land of fortune seekers, Judah packed his bags and headed west. Before long, he became convinced that the future of America lay in iron rails that would stretch from ocean to Ocean. By 1854, he had a job as chief engineer for the Sacramento Valley Railroad, one of California's first rail lines. But he yearned for more. At the time, the Sierra Nevada mountains were considered an impassable barrier between the fertile valleys of California and the rest of the continent. No railroad on earth had ever been built through mountains so rugged, and many believed it could not be done. The peaks were too steep, the snow was too deep, and the granite was unyielding. Even the best engineers dismissed the idea as madness. But Theodore Judah would not be swayed. Judah devoted himself to finding a route through the mountains. In the fall of 1860, he set out with a small survey party and climbed deep into the Sierras. He measured elevations, calculated grades, and stretched out a path. He endured blizzards, frostbite, and exhaustion. But after weeks of investigation, he found what he was looking for. A passage through the mountains. The way through was via Donner Pass, the same area where the Donner party had suffered its horrific winter 13 years earlier. Judah was convinced that if a railroad could be built through the Sierra Nevadas, it would need to be built through Donner Pass. He returned to Sacramento, brimming with confidence and eager to find financial backing. But he was met with skepticism. Critics said the cost would be astronomical and the terrain was too extreme. But not everyone thought Judah's plans were crazy. Eventually, he found his audience, four Sacramento businessmen who had each built small fortunes during the gold rush. They were Leland Stanford, a dry goods merchant who had recently been Elected governor of California, Collis Huntington, a sharp eyed store owner with a talent for negotiation. Mark Hopkins, a meticulous bookkeeper and Huntington's business partner. And Charles Crocker, a former carpenter who had become one of Sacramento's leading merchants. They called themselves the Associates, but they became known, somewhat grandly as the Big Four. In mid-1861, as the Eastern states became consumed by civil war, Judah pitched his vision to the Big Four. If they financed the construction, they would hold the charter for the first railroad to cross the Sierra Nevadas. The rewards would be enormous. They would control the flow of trade and open the door to endless economic possibilities. Collis Huntington, known as the pragmatist of the group, was the first to challenge Judah. He wanted to know what the fallout would be if the operation failed. The Big Four were wealthy, but none of them were rich enough to afford a failed railroad. Judah had an answer. He explained that the federal government had taken an interest in building a transcontinental railroad. By that time, Congress was debating the Pacific Railway Act. Judah told the Big Four that if the bill passed, it would provide loans and land grants to any company that was willing to lay track. If the men acted now, they could be the company that built the western portion of the transcontinental line. It was a gamble, but the Big Four knew a good bet when they saw one. So on June 28, 1861, the Central Pacific Railroad was officially incorporated. After years of dreaming, Theodore Judah had won. His railroad would be built. But by going into business with the Big Four, he made a fatal mistake. The men were businessmen first and railroaders second. They saw Judah as useful, but they had no intention of letting him control their investment. The dreamer had laid the foundation. But his big gamble meant the Central Pacific Railroad might not be his to build. And even if Judah found a way to outmaneuver the Big Four, an even greater challenge loomed ahead. It was one thing to dream about building a railroad through the Sierra Nevadas, but it was another thing to actually do it. He was going to need to find men who were brave enough, foolish enough, or desperate enough to try it.