The Chili Line

One afternoon during our stay at Hopewell Lake we drove 18 miles back the way we had come to the small village of Tres Piedras.  Our purpose – as is often the case for these excursions – food.  We had seen a sign on our way through the day before advertising the only restaurant in town, The Chili Line Depot.  We were curious about the name and very hungry after our hike on the Continental Divide Trail that morning.

The restaurant and B&B opened around 5 years ago, and is owned and operated by a local couple that have a ranch near Tres Piedras.  The food is cooked fresh to order, local grass-fed beef, pizza and daily specials.  The 100-year-old building has had several reincarnations from a dance hall and bar where Glen Campbell used to play to a skating rink.  Now it houses the Chili Line Depot and B&B. 

This old building has seen a lot of life in its 100-plus years

The food was quite good but it was the story of the Chili Line itself that captured our imaginations.  As David ate his traditional green chili cheeseburger and I, my daily special of roasted chicken with pinyon nuts over a bed of seasoned rice with a green chili cheese sauce on top, we learned about the history of the Chili Line.  Information on the menu, old photos hung around the dining room and a short written history on our table revealed a sweet and interesting story in railroad history and the history of this part of northern New Mexico.

In 1887, the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad built a line with the intention of connecting Denver with Mexico City.  Two things were unique and ‘first’ about this rail line.  It was the first 3’ narrow gauge railroad track in the nation and it was also the first north to south line in the U.S. as most railroad lines ran east to west.

The train was known as a “mixed train,” carrying livestock, lumber, mail and some passengers mostly from Santa Fe, through Tres Piedras to Antonito, CO.  This 125-mile northern end of the railroad operated for 61 years and became known over time as the “Chili Line.”

There are a couple of theories as to how the name came to be.  One is that all along the run during harvesting season, the locals hung out their chilies to dry.  On adobe buildings and houses, along fences, any available space was utilized to dry the chilies.  Another equally compelling story is that passengers riding the train would order chilies for lunch when the train stopped in Tres Piedras and that the conductor started calling out, “Chili Stop.”  But whichever story you want to believe, the name stuck.

Lots of motorcycles in the parking lot are often a good testimony

to the quality of the food.

Stories abound about how the crew of the Chili Line enjoyed helping the residents of this remote and often harsh region of the west.  One such story says that the train’s engineers would blow the steam whistle as they approached stops and the ladies of the area would bring their washtubs down to the train to get hot water for laundry.  Supposedly the brakemen would gather newspapers in Alamosa, CO and throw them out to the women and children as the train passed by.  Most locals in the area did not have money to buy newspapers and most never traveled more than a few miles from home in their lifetimes.

One story that Maya particularly liked was that of Minnie, the newspaper delivery dog.  Minnie was a very loyal and reliable dog that lived at the Taos Junction Stop.  There was one engineer who would pick up a bone at the butcher shop in Alamosa to reward Minnie when he made his stop at Taos Junction each day.

Tres Piedras, the old water tower for the Chili Line

Eventually, it seems, all good things come to an end and the Chili Line was no exception.  On September 1, 1941, the line was shut down.  It was no longer making a profit so the line was abandoned.  Iron from the tracks and many of the engines were sent to Alaska to help in the war effort.  Now all that remains in Tres Piedras of the Chili Line is the old water tower beside the trackless dusty grade.  That and a whole lot of memories.

As we finished our delicious dinner sitting on the front porch with Maya, I just know I heard the faint blow of a steam engine whistle carried on the cool mountain breeze.