In the late 19th century, long-distance travel across the American West was often a challenging endeavor, and few experiences encapsulated the inherent dangers quite like a perilous stagecoach ride. This account, originally recounted by an old-timer drummer to the Reno Evening Gazette in 1891, vividly illustrates the fading era of grand stagecoach lines and the very real hazards faced by passengers on less-traveled routes. Our storyteller, a seasoned traveler, reveals how what was once a routine part of his quarterly business trips could quickly devolve into a struggle for survival during a particularly harrowing journey.
The Fading Glory of Stagecoach Travel
The drummer, reflecting on his extensive travels, noted a stark contrast between present-day locomotion and the methods of two decades prior. While railways and steamers had made travel easier, he lamented that trade wasn’t as good, and the effort required to make a living had intensified. He recalled a period just after the opening of the overland railroad when stagecoach travel remained essential for connecting burgeoning towns and remote settlements. During one season alone, he traversed over 3,500 miles by stagecoach across Utah, Idaho, Nevada, and California, supplementing this with more than 7,000 miles by rail and steamer. Despite his vast experience, the more he traveled by stage, the more apprehensive he became.
This growing trepidation, he explained, was not due to any innate timidity, but rather the dramatic decline in the quality of stagecoach drivers. The legendary ‘crack whips’ who had skillfully commanded the ribbons for the Pioneer and Overland lines had largely vanished from the roads. In their place, a ‘cheap class of sheepherders’ often operated the short feeder lines connecting to the railroads. These new drivers, influenced by the romanticized legacy of their predecessors, often mistook reckless swagger for the genuine expertise and natural genius that characterized the old guard. The high wages of the earlier era, sometimes reaching $300 per month, had ensured the survival of the fittest, elevating experts like Curly Bill, Dan Robbins, Ned Hudson, Si Hawley, Charles Levitt, Tom Stevens, Johnny Burnett, John Wilson, Billy Hodge, Baldy Green, Hank Monk, George Richmond, Con Denise, George Clinton, Vic, Dave Red, Smith Grey, and Charlie Livermore, among others.
However, as economic conditions shifted and companies could no longer afford such exorbitant salaries, these seasoned veterans drifted into livery businesses or pursued other opportunities. They left behind a tradition of departed glory, but also a void that less capable drivers struggled to fill. “And so,” the drummer concluded, “from 1872 to 1875, I frequently rode over drives that nothing could tempt me to take again.”
A Fateful Journey Over the Greenhorn Mountains
The most vivid memory of a perilous stagecoach ride for the drummer was a particular trip over the Greenhorn Mountains, on the road from Caliente to Havilah in Kern County, California. The stagecoach, a ‘thoroughbred mud wagon’ just wide enough for two passengers per seat, carried seven souls – six inside and one beside the driver. Even with the utmost care, the narrow-tracked wagon seemed ill-suited for the treacherous side-hill grades. Yet, on this fateful night, the ribbons were in the hands of a drunken Texas cowboy, whose erratic handling made the vehicle feel as ready to overturn as a bicycle.
Unknown to the passengers at the time, this driver was a man of considerable physical strength and a terror to other line employees, notorious for his tyrannical demeanor. After a communal supper at the Summit station around 8 p.m., the passengers embarked, smoking their cigars in good spirits, oblivious to the fact that their driver had been drinking. The quarter moon offered intermittent light, frequently obscured by drifting clouds, which cast eerie shadows among the broad, branching oaks clinging to the hillsides. In the dim and deceptive light, the stage often appeared precariously close to the outer edge of the grade.
The Terror of the Descent
As experienced travelers, the passengers initially felt no alarm, despite the unsettling proximity to the precipice. This calm was shattered when the driver suddenly let out a startling ‘ki-yi’ and urged the team into a rapid, uncontrolled run down a narrow, dangerous section of the grade. The stagecoach lurched violently to one side, lifting onto two wheels. Instinctively, the drummer swung himself outside, clinging to the bows, his weight momentarily stabilizing the coach, holding it poised in the air. This brief reprieve was just long enough to reveal the grim truth: the team was completely out of control and accelerating towards inevitable destruction.
Acting with lightning speed to buy the others a precious moment, and holding his breath, the drummer leaped into the air. He plunged down the hillside during a moment of darkness as the moon was obscured, falling heavily on his neck and shoulders. Folding his arms and tucking his head forward, he tumbled end over end down the steep embankment of loose soil, finally coming to a stop against an uprooted oak. Miraculously, he sustained no major injuries, only a profound shock and a covering of dirt. As soon as he could rise and shake himself off, he made his way down the grade to the scene of the wreck.
Aftermath and Reflection
The scene that awaited him was tragic. One passenger had suffered a broken leg and arm, while others were severely scratched and painfully bruised. The reckless, drunken driver, however, was dead. This harrowing incident served as a stark reminder of the immense risks inherent in stagecoach travel during an era of transition. The tale, published by William Daugherty in the Reno Evening Gazette on March 28, 1891, painted a vivid picture of the untamed American West and the often-unpredictable nature of its transportation systems.
Conclusion: Echoes of a Perilous Past
The account of this perilous stagecoach ride over the Greenhorn Mountains is more than just a dramatic anecdote; it is a vital snapshot of a pivotal period in American history. It underscores the challenges faced by travelers and the stark reality of relying on skilled, or in this case, tragically unskilled, individuals to navigate treacherous landscapes. The transition from legendary ‘whips’ to less experienced drivers marked not just a change in personnel, but a significant increase in danger for those still dependent on stage lines. This story reminds us of the raw courage required to traverse the frontier and the unforeseen perils that could turn a routine journey into a fight for survival, leaving an indelible mark on those who lived to tell the tale. The romance of the Old West was often overshadowed by the harsh realities and constant dangers, forever etching these perilous journeys into the annals of history.
