The Copper Country’s rail connections to the outside world was controlled by two railroads: the Copper Range and the DSS&A (Duluth South Shore and Atlantic). The Copper Range’s route took it south through Twin Lakes on its way towards Greenland. The DSS&A route followed the Portage lakeshore, down through Chassell and out towards Baraga. As mines closed and demand for rail service diminished, these two companies began closing up shop. Through the late ’60s Copper Range began to systematically abandon their lines working their way southward. By 1973 the line was closed for good, leaving only the Soo Line (which had bought out the DSS&A) providing rail service to the Copper Country.

The Soo Line continued to operate as far as Hancock for the remainder of the decade, but a troubling economy finally forced the line to make drastic cuts to its UP operations. In 1981 this meant the discontinuation of rail service to Chassell and points north and the abandonment of the line. Scrappers quickly moved in and went to work removing the rails as the old right-of-ways were transferred to state hands. The scrappers made it as far as the Sturgeon River.

For a time I had thought that the old DSS&A (Soo Line) route was removed as far as Baraga, but as I stood on the side of the highway just south of Chassell I was pleasantly surprised to see that wasn’t the case. Though we had come to Chassell for our other website, CCE was whispering in my ear to take a walk down the rails and see what I could find. So I did. It wasn’t long until I found it.

I felt like I had walk back in time as I turned the overgrown bend to discover a railroad bridge – completely intact and undisturbed – standing in front of me. The bridge carried the rails over the wide expanse of the Sturgeon River (the second largest river in the Copper Country). It was nothing special to look at, pretty plain and rudimentary, but it was the first completely intact rail bridge I have ever found. I was amazed that it hadn’t been ripped out for scrap yet.

As I gingerly made my way out over the bridge, I could look through the ties to the river below and became a little uneasy. The bridge was only about six feet above the river, but I wondered how strong these old ties were and if they would hold my weight. For some reason it took me a while to notice that there were two sets of rails here on the bridge, something I thought was very odd. At first I thought it was for dual gauges, but in that configuration there would be three not four rails. After consulting with my on-call railroad expert I was informed that these inner rails were a safety device to insure that in case of a derailment the cars wouldn’t slip off the tracks and slam into the bridge’s superstructure.

The bridge was a thru-truss design, which looks to be the common approach for bridges of this size (similar to the Traprock Valley Trestle in Lake Linden and the C&H Trestle in Calumet). Here’s a shot of the center truss, which starts just inside the outer pylons of the bridge. The bridge was in remarkable shape for having been abandoned for over 20 years. It was also amazing considering how often the Sturgeon floods in the spring.

Set into the truss was the bridge’s nameplate, which accredited it to the Wisconsin Bridge & Iron Company. Due to a lack of experienced iron workers in the region, this nearby company (out of Milwaukee) ended up building most of the bridges in the Copper Country. They also were responsible for the construction of the Redridge Steel Dam. According to this plaque the bridge was built in 1913.

Taking a moment I looked out over the bridge to the Sturgeon below. From here the river flows towards Portage Lake. The river was once a major transportation route for logs taken down miles inland. The channel was cut near the river’s mouth to divert those logs down into Pike Bay.

Exiting the other side of the bridge the rails seem to disappear into the grass. From this point on the railroad grade stretches out over the vast wetlands that make up the Sturgeon River Sloughs. The bridge’s location in the middle of this landscape is probably what saved it from the scrappers – it was just to hard to get to it.

After reaching the other side, I made my way down to the river’s banks by means of a trail hacked through the brush by fishermen. From there I was able to get a better view of the bridge in its entirety. Holding it up was two simple concrete piers, one on each end of the river. The whole structure seemed to almost disappear into the landscape, its rust color blending in to the browning vegetation around it.

Heading back the way I had come, I first took a second to snap this photo of the rail “plates” – whatever their technical term is. Stamped on its side was another date, this one was 1939. It was also stamped with what appeared to be the word “Soo”. A fitting epitaph to the Copper Country’s last rail connection to the outside world.