More on those Cable Cars

San Francisco is, it's fair to say, a hilly place. Edinburgh is also a hilly place, but there are streets here where you can get vertigo looking down them. The story goes that, in 1869, one Andrew Hallidie witnessed, in horror, a heavily laden, horse-drawn streetcar slip on one of the (many) hills and slide back down the slope, dragging the horses to their death.

Hallidie's father just happened to have taken out a patent for the production of wire rope, and Andrew set about designing a system whereby the streetcars could be pulled by cable, rather than horses, thereby eliminating the possibility of repeating the incident.

People laughed at him as he sank much of his own money into building an initial track, only 2791' (850m) long, but the concept proved so successful that it wasn't long before other lines were being built throughout the city and, later, across the rest of the country. Soon 9 different companies were running 22 routes in San Francisco.

All that changed, though, in the early hours of 18 April, 1906 when an earthquake violently shook the city. In less than 1½ minutes, buildings had collapsed and the cable car tracks had been rendered useless.

The earthquake was damaging enough, but far more destructive were the fires which broke out and which burned for the next three days destroying 490 city blocks. The ruptured water mains left firemen all but helpless.

Already, electric streetcars had begun to make an appearance, and the city authorities decided to replace many of the old cable-hauled lines. Those that survived were principally those on the steepest hills where the electric trams just couldn't do the job.

In the 1940's the city elected a “progressive” mayor – a Mr Laphan – who saw the cable cars as belonging to another time. He made plans to sweep them away, and replace them with modern, diesel buses. Needless to say, he didn't get his way. A Mrs Friedel Klussmann formed a committee of citizens who lobbied hard, and successfully, to have the cable cars protected by law. They now have the status of a national monument, so it doesn't look like they're going anywhere any time soon. Given the sometimes impossible task of getting a seat (or even just room to stand) on one of them, it's hard to imagine they're not turning in a profit – a single ride costs $5, though they're covered by city travel passes which reduces the cost considerably.

This is the queue to board at the terminus of two of the lines – at the corner of Powell and Market Streets.

The queue starts on the right side of the picture, works its way along to where you can see the cable car, goes round the outside of the turntable and comes back up to just in front of the car.

The cars do, it must be said, cause annoyance to other road users, whether it's from the hoards of passengers piling across the traffic lanes to board and exit, or from the practice of stopping in the middle of junctions:

This car isn't travelling across the junction – this is where it stopped to pick up passengers. It's easier if they stop on the level parts of the streets. There are signs warning other drivers to expect the unexpected too:

The cables create a constant sound, too – a sort of high-pitched, slightly-resonant rattling sound. I don't suppose it's loud enough to cause sleepless nights, but it's ever present when you're in the vicinity of one of the lines.

There is an excellent museum for those interested in the technicalities of the cars. This certainly included me, but if it doesn't include you, you may want to look away now.

The museum is housed in the powerhouse. This is where the 4 cables that are used to run the remaining three lines (two of the lines share one cable for part of their run and have a separate one for the remainder) are hauled in from under the streets (and, of course, fed out again). The wheels and pulleys they run around are called “sheaves” in cable car parlance (pronounced “shivs”):

During its lifetime, a cable can stretch by up to 100' (30m) so a third sheave is situated at the far end of the powerhouse and is mounted on rails so that it can take up the slack. You can just see them at the far end of the room:

The museum has a sample grip, too. This is the mechanism on each car which reaches under the street to actually grab hold of the cable and pull it along. The operation of the grip (by a gripman, would you believe?) requires a lot of physical strength as well as good coordination. Sections of the routes require that the cable be released, with the cars simply running on from their own momentum or under gravity, and the gripman must ensure that this is done at exactly the right point.


In the lower picture you can see the softer dies inside the housing that actually grip the cable. These, together with lubrication on the cable allow the cable to slip through the grip if necessary. The cables run at a constant 9.5 miles per hour (15 kph) so when the car needs to stop, the cable has to be able to slip – if it were let go completely, it would drop right out of the grip and would have to be retrieved. As well as the grip, the gripman operates one set of wheel brakes and wooden track brakes which press down against the rails.

Down below the main floor of the powerhouse you can see the system of sheaves that align the cables with the wheels upstairs and with the conduits in the streets. It must have been a nightmare trying to thread it all up but it's quite an impressive sight now.

For technical geeks, the cable car museum is a must. It explains how they have achieved corners, junctions and crossings as well as preventing the cables pulling up out of the slots at the bottoms of hills. Even non-technical geeks must surely be impressed by the sheer power of the place. Who could not be impressed by the idea of a cable 21,500' (6.5km) long? That's the longest one – that hauls the California Street cars.

The cable cars are as much a part of San Francisco as the Opera House is of Sydney, or the Eiffel Tower is of Paris. So here are a few more shots:

This is one of the California Street cars approaching the eastern end of its route at the Embarcadero – note that it's double ended – when it reaches the end of the line, the gripman just walks to the other end and drives it back.

The other lines have single-ended cars – they must be manually pushed round on a turntable (and then pushed back onto the track)

These two have arrived at the south end of Powell Street and are waiting to go back out on either the Mason or Hyde routes. You can see the wooden track brakes between the wheels.

This is the view from the back platform of a car on Hyde Street - looking back down the hill towards Fisherman's Wharf. Alcatraz Island is also clearly visible.


Cable car imagery is everywhere in the city. Just one example - this is the room number plate for my hotel room: