Return of the Incredible Shrinking Moab Burro Crane 
In the spring of 2013, I made one of my many visits to Moab, Utah. The  shutdown of the federal government and national parks was still five months  away. Arches National  Park
 was open and visitation was climbing. As I approached the main entrance
  at Arches, hundreds of vehicles waited for entry. Bypassing the 
turnoff, I drove  north on U.S. Highway  191, toward the airport and Crescent Junction, beyond.
As I approached the turnoff to Dead Horse Point and Canyonlands National  Park, I noticed an interesting piece of equipment, parked on a railroad  siding. The siding was part of the Potash Branch, which is  the rail line from Brendel to Potash. That rail line also carries radioactive,  contaminated soil from the infamous Moab Pile to a disposal site at Brendel, near Crescent  Junction, Utah. After turning on to State Highway 313,  I stopped at a barren, windblown area adjacent to the Seven Mile siding.
Resting on the siding, along with its tender car, was a Union Pacific Railroad Model 40 Burro Crane  (#BC-47). The Burro  Crane is a “maintenance of way” (MOW) vehicle that is self-propelled, and  able to lift and move railroad track and
 materials. With sufficient supplies  on its tender car, a small “road 
gang” can actually build a rail line as the  Burro Crane extends the 
tracks ahead of itself.
With its steel doors and security panels closed, the Burro Crane looked 
lonely  and deserted. That is the thing about Burro Cranes, with their 
quaint name and  anthropomorphic looks. One almost immediately ascribes a
 personality and other  life forces to this mechanical contraption. 
Although the area was deserted and  desolate, I could picture the Moab 
Burro, as I named it, waiting for nightfall  and then scooting up and 
down the Potash Branch as it pleased.
After taking a few pictures of the Moab Burro, the Seven Mile sign and 
the La  Sal Range to the east, I climbed back in my truck and drove 
toward Moab. Upon
  returning home, I began researching the rich history of the Burro 
Crane. Built  in Chicago by the Cullen Friestadt Company, there were 
many twentieth century  iterations of the Burro Crane. Like a 1950's Chevy,
 the Model 40 Burro Crane was  the classic of all Burro Cranes. It was 
compact, featured a diesel engine, was  easy to maneuver and had 
tremendous lifting capacity.
Later, I was fortunate to meet Frank J. Cullen, the last family member to run  the Cullen Friestadt Company as a private business. I like to call Frank J.  Cullen “The Father of the Burro Crane”. After researching the Burro Crane  online, I compiled all of that history and published it at www.BurroCrane.com. In  addition to the official history of the Burro Crane, I also enlisted Plush Kokopelli  and Coney the Traffic Cone to help tell the Moab Burro story.
After
 standing alone on the rail siding at Seven Mile for several years, the 
 Moab Burro had become a fixture of the landscape and a landmark to 
those who  knew it. It even appeared on Google Maps satellite photos
 of that era. Although  the Moab Burro still appeared on Google Maps as 
of late 2017, the Burro Crane  itself went missing by 2015, never to 
return. Since Plush Kokopelli and Coney  the Traffic Cone love a good 
mystery, I asked them to help find the missing Moab  Burro.
Some say that the dynamic duo found the Moab Burro, but that radioactivity from  the passing Train of Pain had caused a  dimensional shift around it. In October  2017, The Other
 (a shadowy figure) drove with Plush Kokopelli back to Seven Mile.  
There, they searched for the Moab Burro and Coney the Traffic Cone, who 
had both gone missing. Did both the Moab Burro and Coney shrink so small that they became  invisible? That was what Plush Kokopelli and The Other hoped to discover.
Upon arrival at Seven Mile, The Other carried Plush Kokopelli to the 
railroad  tracks. Neither Coney nor the Moab Burro was visible. Soon, 
Plush  Kokopelli floated up like a drone, overlooking the scene. As he 
landed on the  tracks, the Moab Burro reappeared, right next to him. 
Soon, Coney the Traffic  Cone reappeared, as well. Neither of them 
seemed to notice that the Moab Burro  had transmogrified from a large 
piece of railroad equipment to the size of a  toy.
To Coney the Traffic Cone and Plush Kokopelli, the Moab Burro looked as 
big and  powerful as ever. Now, let us see if we can get the  Union Pacific Railroad to
  reconstitute the Moab Burro back to its original size. If the 
full-sized Moab Burro were to reappear at  Seven Mile, that would be 
magic.
               
By James McGillis at 04:57 PM | | Comments (0) | Link

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