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The Great Woodland Hills Train Wreck
In the early 1970's I had gotten myself elected to the California Sports Car Club Board of Governors, the Los Angeles Region of the SCCA. There at the monthly meetings I was befriended by Lindley, an older member of the group. Lindley was born in 1903 making him in his early 70's. I was 25. His SCCA membership card was #6. He'd been around a while & knew the ropes.
Lindley liked trains, so much so that he had bought several, including one narrow gauge British locomotive built in 1900 that had served time in the Philippines pulling a trolly for 70 years.
He had some friends coming over next Saturday and they were going to try to get it running, but somewhere in the intervening 70 years the owner's manual had gone missing. Would I like to attend the festivities?
On the appointed Saturday, I showed up at the ranch in Woodland Hills. It was apparent I was invited because I was the only one who wasn't 70+ and there is a lot of physicality involved it getting a steam locomotive going.
Not to belabor the details, but you pretty much fill the water tank, start a fire, and watch the big pressure gauge. All accompanied by a lot of kibbitz, opinions & chatter.
Anyway, there was a half mile of track that led down to the entrance of the ranch. The loco started rolling slowly, at a walking pace, up hill, making all the appropriate noise & smells. A gaggle of old men, some walking, some riding followed.
All was well on the up hill, but the Bandini hit the Windmere when we crested the 3-foot summit in front of the ranch house. The loco began to pick up speed, even when the throttle was shut down. Much screaming and thrashing of arms ensued as the loco plowed through the chain line gate at the end of the driveway (the rails had been thoughtfully laid down the center of the 1/2-mile driveway).
The loco came to rest in the middle of Oakdale Drive after pulling out about 100 feet of fence on each side. The fire department showed up & everyone stood around looking at this site, a dripping, hissing, smoking, dirt cloud in the middle of the road. Traffic backed-up both directions. The police guys had never been to a train wreck. Everyone was confused.
About then boiler hit max pressure and the blow off valve blew steam all over the assemblage. A blue-haired matron in her Cadillac put it in rinse to get away before the explosion and certain death and smashed into the car behind her. A swell time was had by all.
That sealed it for me. Lindley & I became buddy's and co-conspirators in many other adventures, some actually involving race cars, and another, slightly less conspicuous train wreck until he passed in 1984. A story for another time.
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