It came as a shock to realize several years ago that I lived on the subject tracks of this post. It had never really been a subject of discussion with my railroader friends but I knew that the tracks in the Dallas area were still live and were used as a short line track. It was not until several more years before I figured out that the tracks were, indeed, the tracks behind my house and were under the Short Line Railroad operated by Kansas City Southern.
This discovery and renewed interest came about when I walked the Santa Fe Bike Trail split with the White Rock Trail just below the dam at White Rock Lake. The trail follows the White Rock Creek on its way downstream toward the Trinity River in the Great Trinity Forest in deep South Dallas. At that time, I came across the tracks near the Tennyson Highlands and the Tennyson Glens courses at Tennyson Park that split off the old line for the Texas & Pacific that runs back through White Rock Lake. At that time, I discovered the old trestle farther down the line on the "S" curves. While I did not walk down there at that time, only going to the point were T&P line had been abandoned. Several months later, I did return and walked down to the trestle but did not explore beyond that point. However, I had always wondered where those tracks made their way toward my house. It was just one of those things where I just never got beyond looking at an old map to see the line's route on the map, but I already knew that I wanted to explore more at some time to see how the puzzle fit together. All that happened about the time that the Big Boy was being moved from Fair Park to it's new home in Frisco. Then the new container yard opened in Frisco and the traffic was greatly reduced as it went past my house. A very typical short line operation of a few box cars, maybe a few flat beds with UPS trucks but those were basically supply cars for the industrial parks that run from south of here toward Garland to the KCS yard at Shiloh, south of Northwest Highway and between Shiloh and Garland Road where the double stacked containers and the pigs were loaded for UPS.
Today, as I was checking on one of my most favorite neighborhoods--- a little subdivision built about the early years of the twentieth century around the time that White Rock Lake was being built. The homes are the original tiny house of about 1000 to 1500 square feet, but the neighborhood is called the Little Forest Hills. It is architecturally one of the most amazing places one could see in any urban area. When I first discovered it, signs were in the yards advertising, " Keep Little Forest Hills Little". I had already seen a couple of what I call Ronnie Houses, big, modern 3500 to 6000 square feet mansions squeezed on a small lot. All it takes is one of the big, new houses to go up after the little house has been bulldozed away forever for the disease to spread throughout the entire community that is a treasure for any city to hold on to except in Texas were land is more valuable than a house.
As I turned to start to go toward Fair Park, the second half of the city's water upgrades had blocked off the road at the rail road tracks. It's interesting in that long before I discovered the neighborhood, I had heard the train whistles, sometimes while at the lake and others as I was doing a shoot along Garland Road. It reminded me of the old Mystic Mood Album, One Stormy Night, with a cut of a thunderstorm and rain and the sound of a train horn. I loved that album and just this past week decided that I needed to find out if it had been cut on CD. It's so soothing to listen to when reading or working on edits from the days shoot.
As I went over a couple of blocks to find a street that took me across the tracks, I saw a photographer walking toward the street that I was on and it hit me right then, that this was the other end of that trestle that I wanted to see. By the time that I circled and came back, the guy had gotten in his car and headed out. So I decided right then that I was going to walk down there, having figured out about how far it was from what I knew of the area. Basically, from the end of the Glens course to the far end of the Highlands course---two full golf courses in length. Sure enough, from the crossing down to the first curve was about a 20 minute walk, but as I rounded the curve I could see the metal trestle a bit farther in distance. That was about another 10 minute walk, the ballast was big and loose along the sides of the track. I learned a long time ago that you don't walk down the center of the tracks. People end up dead that way. Any how, I got my shots, saw a couple of "park anywhere" bikes down below with bent rims. One a V-bike and the other a Lime bike. At least the destruction of the bikes was spread around the rental companies and one company didn't have to see a double loss.
At the point of the trestle, where White Rock Creek crosses under the trestle, there is an up-scale profession gated community on one side and the Tennyson Glens lower course on the other. So, now, I have shots of the "s" curves and the Trestle from the south and west views as well as the north and east view of the Trestle and and their "S" curves. By the time I got back to the car, I was feeling pretty beat. I had a small snack in the car that I carry in my travel bag and I sat there for a couple of minutes eating my snack in hopes of gaining my energy back. My plan was that I had to head toward the Walmart Neighborhood Market on the way home to get my favorite fresh baked Cuban rolls. I split them down the center with my bread knife at breakfast and pop them in the toaster. Then, I spread a light coat of butter on the hot rolls. Oh! They go with breakfast like none other. It's been a long time since the, 'goodby toast, hello Cuban Roll'.They are 5/$1.00 and this will get me 5 days of breakfast before having to go get more.
As luck would have it, when I got the WNM, I saw a space right up front after the handicap parking and I circled to come around. Just as I got there, some guy whips in with his big 2500 or whatever it was and took the space. So, round and round we go again finding one a few more spaces away from the front. When I got out, there was an electric scooter next to my car. I sat down. It was charged up and I pushed down on the bar and away I went. It was non-stop to the sliding doors, across the cart room and into the fruits and veggies, around the table and down the isle to the bread bin. I'm thinking, I should try this more often, but I really was beat up from walking that distance on that loose ballast. I got my rolls. Headed to the check out and Murphy's Law kicked in. All those empty lanes and self check outs were lined up like the Super Bowl was today. But, I got to check out and and headed for the car, parking the scooter right where I had found it originally. Into the car before the pain started. By the time I had diner the pain was pretty strong and I took a plain generic aspirin and the pain has not come back since. It's all in the day's work for a retired old man who loves his full-time hobby of urban photography.
By-the-way, when checking my e-mail after eating tonight I had a few sales. That made it all worth while---I-think!
This discovery and renewed interest came about when I walked the Santa Fe Bike Trail split with the White Rock Trail just below the dam at White Rock Lake. The trail follows the White Rock Creek on its way downstream toward the Trinity River in the Great Trinity Forest in deep South Dallas. At that time, I came across the tracks near the Tennyson Highlands and the Tennyson Glens courses at Tennyson Park that split off the old line for the Texas & Pacific that runs back through White Rock Lake. At that time, I discovered the old trestle farther down the line on the "S" curves. While I did not walk down there at that time, only going to the point were T&P line had been abandoned. Several months later, I did return and walked down to the trestle but did not explore beyond that point. However, I had always wondered where those tracks made their way toward my house. It was just one of those things where I just never got beyond looking at an old map to see the line's route on the map, but I already knew that I wanted to explore more at some time to see how the puzzle fit together. All that happened about the time that the Big Boy was being moved from Fair Park to it's new home in Frisco. Then the new container yard opened in Frisco and the traffic was greatly reduced as it went past my house. A very typical short line operation of a few box cars, maybe a few flat beds with UPS trucks but those were basically supply cars for the industrial parks that run from south of here toward Garland to the KCS yard at Shiloh, south of Northwest Highway and between Shiloh and Garland Road where the double stacked containers and the pigs were loaded for UPS.
Today, as I was checking on one of my most favorite neighborhoods--- a little subdivision built about the early years of the twentieth century around the time that White Rock Lake was being built. The homes are the original tiny house of about 1000 to 1500 square feet, but the neighborhood is called the Little Forest Hills. It is architecturally one of the most amazing places one could see in any urban area. When I first discovered it, signs were in the yards advertising, " Keep Little Forest Hills Little". I had already seen a couple of what I call Ronnie Houses, big, modern 3500 to 6000 square feet mansions squeezed on a small lot. All it takes is one of the big, new houses to go up after the little house has been bulldozed away forever for the disease to spread throughout the entire community that is a treasure for any city to hold on to except in Texas were land is more valuable than a house.
As I turned to start to go toward Fair Park, the second half of the city's water upgrades had blocked off the road at the rail road tracks. It's interesting in that long before I discovered the neighborhood, I had heard the train whistles, sometimes while at the lake and others as I was doing a shoot along Garland Road. It reminded me of the old Mystic Mood Album, One Stormy Night, with a cut of a thunderstorm and rain and the sound of a train horn. I loved that album and just this past week decided that I needed to find out if it had been cut on CD. It's so soothing to listen to when reading or working on edits from the days shoot.
As I went over a couple of blocks to find a street that took me across the tracks, I saw a photographer walking toward the street that I was on and it hit me right then, that this was the other end of that trestle that I wanted to see. By the time that I circled and came back, the guy had gotten in his car and headed out. So I decided right then that I was going to walk down there, having figured out about how far it was from what I knew of the area. Basically, from the end of the Glens course to the far end of the Highlands course---two full golf courses in length. Sure enough, from the crossing down to the first curve was about a 20 minute walk, but as I rounded the curve I could see the metal trestle a bit farther in distance. That was about another 10 minute walk, the ballast was big and loose along the sides of the track. I learned a long time ago that you don't walk down the center of the tracks. People end up dead that way. Any how, I got my shots, saw a couple of "park anywhere" bikes down below with bent rims. One a V-bike and the other a Lime bike. At least the destruction of the bikes was spread around the rental companies and one company didn't have to see a double loss.
At the point of the trestle, where White Rock Creek crosses under the trestle, there is an up-scale profession gated community on one side and the Tennyson Glens lower course on the other. So, now, I have shots of the "s" curves and the Trestle from the south and west views as well as the north and east view of the Trestle and and their "S" curves. By the time I got back to the car, I was feeling pretty beat. I had a small snack in the car that I carry in my travel bag and I sat there for a couple of minutes eating my snack in hopes of gaining my energy back. My plan was that I had to head toward the Walmart Neighborhood Market on the way home to get my favorite fresh baked Cuban rolls. I split them down the center with my bread knife at breakfast and pop them in the toaster. Then, I spread a light coat of butter on the hot rolls. Oh! They go with breakfast like none other. It's been a long time since the, 'goodby toast, hello Cuban Roll'.They are 5/$1.00 and this will get me 5 days of breakfast before having to go get more.
As luck would have it, when I got the WNM, I saw a space right up front after the handicap parking and I circled to come around. Just as I got there, some guy whips in with his big 2500 or whatever it was and took the space. So, round and round we go again finding one a few more spaces away from the front. When I got out, there was an electric scooter next to my car. I sat down. It was charged up and I pushed down on the bar and away I went. It was non-stop to the sliding doors, across the cart room and into the fruits and veggies, around the table and down the isle to the bread bin. I'm thinking, I should try this more often, but I really was beat up from walking that distance on that loose ballast. I got my rolls. Headed to the check out and Murphy's Law kicked in. All those empty lanes and self check outs were lined up like the Super Bowl was today. But, I got to check out and and headed for the car, parking the scooter right where I had found it originally. Into the car before the pain started. By the time I had diner the pain was pretty strong and I took a plain generic aspirin and the pain has not come back since. It's all in the day's work for a retired old man who loves his full-time hobby of urban photography.
By-the-way, when checking my e-mail after eating tonight I had a few sales. That made it all worth while---I-think!
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| The Old Buzzard Greeted Me, Too! He was being a bit vocal. |
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Looking South and West. The old shots are looking this way |
