The second of Alaska's early railroads was the Copper River & Northwestern. It was Michael J. Heney, builder of the White Pass & Yukon Railroad, who masterminded and muscled through the construction of the 196 mile line from Cordova on the coast to the Guggenheim's mountain of copper at Kennecott in the Wrangell Mountains to the north. Heney did not start the line, nor did he finish it. He died a year before the "Copper Spike" was driven home in Kennecott in March, 1911. 

Four other organizations started building railroads toward local coal fields and the mineral rich mountains before Heney got his franchise. Two of them started in Valdez, and two in Katalla, including the Guggenheims. All four starts failed for one reason or another. Two of them failed because the Federal Government blocked the development of the big coal fields only 50 miles away. This was the first Federal move, on occasion, that has throttled Alaskan growth. 

Heney, although a late starter, chose and filed on the one practical route for building to the interior. He had been told by experts that his route was an impossibility. He was under-financed and knew it. The Guggenheims, who owned the copper claims, finally realized that their engineering was faulty. They bought out Heney and his Copper River Railroad group. Heney's share was $250,000, peanuts today, but in 1907 it was a right healthy sum. 

Less than a year later the Googy's were back after Heney. They had discovered that their original plans were even more at fault than they had thought. They abandoned their Katalla route and contracted with Heney to finish constructing their railroad using his original plans and right of way out of Cordova. 

There were many obstacles that the Irish Prince, Mike Heney, had to overcome and still meet the government deadlines. First, every inch of the line was built from the Cordova end. But, the truly historic obstacle was the necessity of designing a bridge to cross diagonally over the wild Copper River between two gigantic glaciers, the Miles and the Childs. They came out of the mountains almost directly across the river from each other. They spawned their bergs directly into the Copper. The bridge was built between them, in midwinter. 

Holes were cut through nine feet of river ice so that the concrete could be poured. The wooden scaffolds used for raising the huge steel beams rested on the ice. Time was of the essence because of the deadline. The bridge had to be finished before the spring breakup. It was. Just a few hours after the last rivet was hammered home, the ice went out and swept away all the scaffolding and support materials. But the bridge stood.

Thirty-one years later, in November of 1938, the last train left the mine in Kennecott. "Closing up for the winter," was the story that was reported. Homes and offices were vacated overnight, with no effort being made to pack or store household goods, china, silverware, office supplies or files. Everybody would be back next spring. Besides, the only way in or out of Kennecott, the company owned town, or McCarthy, was on the company owned railroad. Hence, burglaries were unknown. 

The camp never reopened. A labor strike contributed to the death of the 27 year old railroad and the towns of Chitina (Chit-i-na), Kennecott and McCarthy. 

With the advent of the airplane, people began to remove and steal everything from both homes and offices. Many of the relics wound up in local museums. 

In World War II, the rails were removed as scrap iron for the war effort. After the War, an enterprising soul bulldozed the ties off the right of way from Chitina to McCarthy, thus creating an instant road one lane wide, as it still is today. All these old ties had dated nails in them. The ties today can still be pulled from the moss and tundra with the nails in place. Most of them are dated 1916 or 1917. 

The telegraph line was stripped years ago of its #9 Brookfield insulators. However, I have managed to accumulate a small collection by risking my neck on steep cliff sides where no one else would go and by straining my innards while pulling wire mired under moss and tundra. I also have two mile post markers, 133 and 134. The rest have served for fuel for hunters. My adventures occurred between Chitina and Kennecott. 

All but five or six of the hundreds of bridges were built on cedar piling. These bridges continued to stand until the great Alaska earthquake in 1964. At that time the shake tumbled the piles like dominoes standing on end. All were rotted off at ground level. 

"The Copper Spike", by Lone E Jansen, gives the history of the area and the construction of the C R & N. Rex Beach wrote his novel, "The Iron Trail", while living in the C R & N construction camps. It is a history with the proper names changed. 

Access to the Copper River canyon and old railroad bed can be had by long river boat or helicopter. There are no roads from Chitina south or into the canyon. You can still follow today the old line south if you want to plow through willows with a back pack and wade the wild mountain streams that empty into the Copper. The best time to do this would be in September when the streams are low. You would also receive a bonus then, for the mountain sides would be splendid in all their fall colors, reds and yellows, browns and golds. 

Come to think of it, you could probably talk me into making the trip with you.