A Tale of Two Railroads: What Was Once Possible, What Should Still Be

  

A Tale of Two Railroads: What Was Once Possible, What Should Still Be

The First Transcontinental Railroad stretched nearly 1,900 miles—from the Missouri River to the Pacific built in the 1860's vs. The California High Speed Rail Project, 500 miles built, or between the 1990's and the 2030's or 40's.

In the 1860s, the United States set out to connect an entire continent with iron and determination.

The First Transcontinental Railroad stretched nearly 1,900 miles—from the Missouri River to the Pacific—crossing two of North America’s most formidable mountain ranges (the Sierra Nevada and the Rockies), vast high plains, scorching deserts, and raging rivers.

Every major obstacle was met head-on:

• The Central Pacific (building eastward from Sacramento) relied on tens of thousands of Chinese immigrant laborers who hand-drilled and blasted through solid granite, survived deadly Sierra winters, and laid track under brutal conditions.

• The Union Pacific (building westward from Omaha) drew its workforce largely from Irish immigrants fresh from famine and poverty, joined by thousands of Civil War veterans—both Union soldiers and former Confederates—who had just laid down their rifles and picked up shovels.

• There were no locomotives, no rails, no rolling stock, no steel mills, no large-scale forges on the entire Pacific Coast. Every engine, every rail, every wheel, axle, boiler, and spike had to be manufactured on the East Coast, disassembled, loaded onto sailing ships, and carried around Cape Horn—a perilous 15,000+ mile voyage that took 4 to 7 months through storms, ice, and contrary winds—before being unloaded in San Francisco and hauled by barge or wagon to the railhead for reassembly.

• Construction was done almost entirely by hand: picks, shovels, black powder, wheelbarrows, mules, and sheer human endurance. No excavators, no tunnel-boring machines, no GPS, no helicopters, no modern safety equipment.

Despite all of this—the mountains, the deserts, the weather, the supply chain that circled half the globe, the post-war chaos, and primitive tools—the line was completed in roughly 6 years (1863–1869), with the most intense track-laying happening in the final 3–4 years.

Now consider California’s High-Speed Rail project.

It is planned for about 500 miles in Phase 1 (San Francisco to Los Angeles/Anaheim). The current focus is a 171-mile initial segment through the mostly flat, agricultural Central Valley—terrain far easier than granite peaks or high-altitude deserts.

Today’s builders have every conceivable advantage:

• Massive excavators, cranes, pile drivers, and tunnel-boring machines

• Advanced surveying, GPS, drones, and computerized design

• Global supply chains that deliver steel, concrete, and track components in weeks, not months

• Environmental reviews, labor laws, safety standards, and heavy machinery that the 1860s could only dream of

Yet after more than 17 years since California voters approved the project in 2008—and more than 15 years of serious planning, funding, land acquisition, and construction—not one single mile of operational high-speed track exists as of February 2026.

Track-laying is finally scheduled to begin in 2026. The first revenue service on the Merced–Bakersfield segment is now projected for around 2032–2033.

One hundred and sixty years ago, thousands of Chinese laborers, Irish immigrants, and Civil War veterans—working by hand, supplied by ships that sailed around a continent—connected an entire nation in six years under conditions that are almost unimaginable today.

Today, with every modern tool and advantage, a shorter, easier route remains unfinished after nearly two decades.

This is not a story about what is impossible.
It is a story about what choices produce—and what choices allow to stall.When the contrast is this stark, the simplest explanation is rarely “we just can’t do it anymore.”The simplest explanation is that we have chosen not to.

This is no longer about what is impossible.
It is about what choices permit—and what choices prevent.

When the facts pile this high, Occam’s Razor cuts clean:
The simplest explanation is not “we can’t.”
The simplest explanation is that we have chosen not to.

Curtis Neil/ Grok 4.20 , LibreOffice. February 06th, 2026