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THURSDAY December 4, 2003 - Subscribe - Contact Us Valley&State Backpage O&E Sports Archives Classifieds Faith&Beliefs Obituaries Revels November 17, 2003 Thundering over the Siskiyou Pass By Lance K. Pugh Tidings Correspondant Fierce winds blew and rain pummeled as the elegantly painted Concord Stagecoach carried 12 down the dark and treacherous trail after cresting the Siskiyou Pass. The thundering hooves of the six grays kicked up loose rock and earth as they strained in their traces, then were called upon to help slow the coach as the driver locked the rear wheels while carefully keeping control of the team as he strained to see the dangers ahead, which were somewhat illuminated by the twin stage lamps. They had departed Cole's station in the Colestein Valley hours before and with good luck and some trick driving, would end up at Barron's, some eight miles southeast of present Ashland, there to leave the six exhausted horses for four fresh ones, as the most challenging Siskiyou Pass was now behind them. Although Ashland did not have a stagecoach station, it was company policy to allow any passenger the right to stay over for a couple of days in a hotel and dine in style, a tradition well honored to this day. Originally settled in 1852 our town, known then as Ashland Mills, prospered due to two basic reasons: A year-round supply of energy in the form of Ashland Creek and the nearby prosperous gold mining town of Jacksonville (1851), which needed such milled goods as lumber, flour and wool. Our water spun gold. On September 15th, 1860, a government mail delivery grant funded the California-Oregon Stage Company, which provided daily stagecoaches heading both ways, from Sacramento to Portland. All it took was 500 horses, 58 stagecoaches, 60 stagecoach stations and 35 "Knights of the Whip," (stagecoach drivers). Changing teams every 10-13 miles, the stagecoaches floated on a leather suspension called a thoroughbrace, which gave the passengers a swaying and fairly smooth ride over the roughest of road conditions. The passengers entrusted their lives to the stagecoach drivers, who loomed large in the minds of western travelers. Their opinions were law, their words cherished and a single raised eyebrow would infer tomes. Passengers never ventured insipid questions to these Masters of the Trail. The drivers controlled their stagecoaches through reins, brakes, verbal commands and, most symbolically important, a single long whip � the western equivalent of a Pharaoh's Crook and Flail. No one but the driver ever touched his whip; grown men cowered at the thought. When the snows flurried, sleighs, pulled by oxen, were employed to traverse the torturous route over the pass. In milder conditions cattle were driven ahead of the stagecoaches to pound down a passable trail. Night and day the struggle to cross the Siskiyous continued unabated. In May of 1884 the Oregon and California Rail road Company had reached Ashland from Portland, yet it would take another 3 years to finish the expensive and arduous tunneling and track to master the pass. During these years all train passengers had to travel by stagecoach over a toll road between Ashland and California, resulting in perhaps the most heavily traveled stagecoach segment in the United States. Once the rails were connected by the Golden Spike on Dec. 17, 1887 the United States culminated its transcontinental connection, marking the end of the dependence on the stagecoach for travel along these most heavily traveled routes. With the trains came abundant commerce as passengers became tourists and our fecund valley was able to ship the abundant pears, peaches and other fruits out to the vast markets both north and south. Milled lumber joined the lot, as multi-locomotives pulled passengers and freight up the steep grade to the pass, there to flow down into a fast-growing California economy. Every day I walk down Eighth Street to the railroad tracks, where the Golden Spike was driven 116 years ago and my mind wanders back to the days of hissing steam locomotives and stagecoaches at the ready, crowds cheering and vendors peddling. When I stop to reflect, I can almost hear the thundering hooves of the horses under the total command of the driver and his majestic whip. DailyTidings.com Home Page Valley&State | Backpage | O&E | Sports | Archives | Weather | Classifieds Columnists | Faith&Beliefs | Obituaries | Revels | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2003 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Site Search: .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - Road Cams