This Train Offers a Front-Row Seat to One of Colorado’s Greatest Natural Wonders

“Locomotives all have their own attitudes and personalities,” says Adam Clawson, the 24-year-old engineer at the helm of Royal Gorge Route Railroad, as our train winds along the Arkansas River. “They are their own living, breathing machines, and you have to learn their personalities.”It’s a warm Saturday afternoon in October, and Clawson is at the controls of a locomotive he knows well: “Black Betty,” a jet-black, 3,000-horsepower diesel-electric unit that runs along a 12-mile stretch of tracks in Southern Colorado. Clawson is a third-generation railroader, following in the footsteps of his grandfather and great-grandfather, who both worked along this same route.The Royal Gorge Route Railroad winds along the Arkansas River in Colorado. Courtesy of Royal Gorge Route RailroadAs he eases the rumbling locomotive through the gorge, he offers a running commentary on the geology and history unfolding outside the window. Millions of years ago, he says, as the Rockies rose above the plains, the Arkansas River began carving its ancient path through the emerging peaks. Over time, the water wore away the hard granite, cutting a narrow, V-shaped gorge that plunges as deep as 1,250 feet in places.The result is the Royal Gorge, a geological wonder nicknamed the “Grand Canyon of the Arkansas River.” Visitors can experience the dramatic 10-mile-long chasm from several perspectives: From above, while gazing down from the Royal Gorge Bridge, the tallest suspension bridge in the nation (or for more adventurous travelers, while rock climbing a 5-hour via ferrata); and from below, while paddling the Arkansas’s roaring rapids on a whitewater raft. But for travelers looking to sit back and savor the scenery passing by, there's no better viewpoint than the Royal Gorge Route Railroad's open-air car, standing face-to-face with the staggering canyon walls.The writer's view aboard the Royal Gorge Route Railroad Sarah KutaThis train line is as historic as it is scenic. Though the tourist train didn't launch until 1998, the route itself has been here for nearly 150 years—but it was close to never being built in the first place. In the late 1870s, a pair of competing railroad companies—the Denver & Rio Grande and the Santa Fe—duked it out for the chance to build tracks through this narrow canyon. Their two-year battle, which involved everything from court injunctions to sabotage to gun-slinging hired guards, became known as the “Royal Gorge War.” Eventually, the two companies signed a treaty and the Denver & Rio Grande prevailed, building tracks that eventually reached the lucrative mining hub of Leadville.Decades later, the train still threads through the same Old West landscape, but the ride is decidedly more comfortable. Today passengers can choose from three classes: Vista Dome, which offers nearly unobstructed views of the gorge from glass-enclosed dome cars; Deluxe Class in the vintage dining car, where four-top tables with cushioned booth-style seats and a bar are nestled against the large windows; and Coach Class, with four-person table seating and the option to order food and drink from the casual grill menu and bar. On select dates, there are also First Class dining tickets available for lunch and dinner, with elevated menus and wine pairings. Regardless of where you sit, all ticket holders have access to the open-air car, which is standing-room only. With Clawson or one of his fellow engineers at the controls, all travelers have to do is sit back and let the scenery unfold.The journey begins roughly an hour south of Colorado Springs in Cañon City at a historic depot originally completed in 1914. A few miles later, a dilapidated pipeline comes into view, running along the canyon wall just above the river. Completed in 1910, this eight-mile-long, mostly wooden structure provided water to Cañon City until 1973. As the train passes under the Royal Gorge Bridge, Clawson encourages me to open the cab window, lean back, and look up. The wind whips my hair as I stare at the bridge some 1,000 feet overhead. It’s 18 feet wide, according to Clawson, but from this vantage point, it looks like a thin wire that’s been strung across a gaping expanse.As the train works its way through the river gorge, water rushes past and red rock walls tower on both sides. Sarah KutaNext, the train squeezes through the gorge’s narrowest and deepest section, the towering red granite walls growing taller and more imposing as they tighten around the tracks. Then we chug over the famous “Hanging Bridge,” which was an engineering marvel when it was completed in 1879—and remains one even today. At this point, the chasm narrows to just 30 feet wide, creating a bottleneck that required a little ingenuity to get a train through. Engineer C. Shallor Smith came up with a brilliant solution: He designed a 175-foot-long bridge that’s suspended above the rushing water by A-shaped supports anchored to the canyon wall.A Royal Gorge Route Railroad locomotive Courtesy of Royal Gorge Route RailroadSoon after, Clawson spots a pair of plastic kayaks hauled out on a small beach on the other side of the waterway. “We might get mooned,” he warns, referencing how paddlers traditionally greet the train when it passes. But when we spot the kayakers standing on the bank a few minutes later, they simply smile and wave. Clawson blares the train’s horn in response.Eventually, the train reaches its western terminus, the town of Parkdale. Clawson hits the brakes and we jump down onto the tracks. Standing in front of the train up close, I’m struck by just how imposing she is. Thinking back to Clawson’s personality comment, I imagine her as fiercely independent—a self-assured, no-nonsense type of gal who’s not easily pushed around.We clamber back into the cab and the train heads in reverse, retracing the route toward Cañon City. I relax back into my seat, letting the engine’s vibrations and the rhythmic drone of the wheels lull me into a pleasant daze. Outside, the rocky surfaces of the gorge’s walls alternate between light and shadow while the river glints in the midday sun. High overhead, I spot a turkey vulture circling on a thermal, its wings arching in a shallow V as it glides without flapping.Clawson follows my gaze. “You can’t make this up,” he says. “Somebody might type into AI, ‘Take this picture of me and make it look like I’m in paradise.’ [But] all I gotta do is step outside."