12-01-2025, 01:34 PM
A Remote Job In The Late 1960s
In the late 1960s, a small road-building crew was working in some of the most unforgiving terrain on Earth: the steep, landslide-prone mountains of Papua New Guinea. The photographs from that time are grainy and weathered, but they capture a slice of engineering history that was repeated all over the developing world after World War II — pushing roads into places where previously only footpaths and river canoes could reach.
The operator in these stories was tasked with reopening a mountain road that had been carved a few years earlier by a large bulldozer, likely a Caterpillar D7-class machine. At that time, the D7 series was a workhorse for heavy earthmoving. Developed during the 1930s and widely deployed in World War II for military road and airstrip construction, the D7 and its successors went on to sell tens of thousands of units worldwide. They were known for a good balance between power, weight and maneuverability, which made them common choices for forestry, mining and remote road construction.
Several years after the original road was cut, repeated wet seasons had triggered landslides that completely buried long sections of the track. The new crew’s mission was not to build a highway from scratch, but to reclaim a vanished road from beneath tons of unstable soil and rock.
A Razor-Back Ridge And A Braided River
One image shows a long, narrow ridge dropping down to a braided river. A braided river is a type of stream that splits into many shallow channels weaving around sandbars and gravel islands. These rivers usually indicate a high sediment load and variable flows. In mountain regions, they are often fed by intense rainfall and steep gradients.
To reach the blocked sections of road, the operator had to climb up what he described as a “razor-back” ridge — a narrow spine of ground with steep drops on either side. Working a dozer on such a ridge is not just a matter of skill but also of judgment: one poorly planned push can destabilize the slope below, causing a slide that takes machine, operator and track down with it.
From that precarious ridge, he started clearing the landslides that had buried the older bench road. Benching is the process of cutting a flat or gently sloping shelf into the side of a hill so that a road, track or terrace can be built. When you look at mountain roads that snake along a slope, what you’re really seeing is a series of benches carved into a hillside, step by step.
Why Cutting Downhill Is Safer
One of the key techniques described from this job is the idea of cutting downhill when benching. On steep, unstable slopes, working from the top down offers several advantages:
The operator in these mountains considered pushing old landslides off the road more dangerous than benching fresh ground. With a fresh cut, you can “read” the material as you go. With a landslide, what you see is just the surface of a much larger volume of disturbed earth, often saturated with water and riddled with hidden slip planes.
Landslides And Disappearing Roads
In the pictures mentioned, many switchbacks and road sections are shown to be completely wiped out by wet-season landslides. This is common in high-rainfall mountain environments. When heavy rain saturates soil, the internal friction between particles drops, and entire sections of slope can let go, especially where previous cuts have disturbed the natural layering.
Some typical features of such landslide-prone areas include:
The Geometry Of Mountain Roads
Another contributor in the discussion reflected on how difficult it is to design and build roads on steep land. From an engineering perspective, mountain road geometry is a careful balance between:
From Logging Railroads To Mountain Roads
One commentator compared these mountain roads to early logging railroads. In some regions, particularly in the northeastern United States, loggers built temporary or semi-permanent rail lines into forests to extract timber. The “roads” were actually steel rails spiked to rough ties, snaking around cliffs and gullies.
Instead of hauling cut logs, entire trees were sometimes removed by rail. Portions that weren’t suitable for lumber could still end up in kilns for charcoal production. In some states, charcoal manufacturing in the 19th and early 20th centuries created remarkable concentrations of wealth. In Vermont, for example, there were charcoal producers who became millionaires in an era when the energy market depended heavily on local fuels like charcoal and firewood.
These logging railroads were a kind of prototype for later mountain roads. Many of the same problems — steep grades, unstable slopes, tight curves — had to be solved with very limited technology compared to today. Rail designers had to think about how to fit a functional route into hostile terrain, not unlike the bulldozer operators benching roads into Papua New Guinea’s mountains a few decades later.
Risks, Experience And The Human Element
The question “How old are you?” shows how long a working life can stretch in this kind of industry. An operator who was already running heavy equipment in 1968 could easily still be sharing stories and advice many decades later.
There are several reasons experienced operators are so highly valued in remote and risky jobs:
Technical Considerations For Modern Mountain Road Work
Although the original job took place more than half a century ago, many technical lessons still apply today. Some practical guidelines for similar projects include:
The original operator mentioned that many photographs from the steepest sections and dense jungle areas were destroyed in a major flood in the mid-1970s. It is a reminder that documentation of this kind of work is fragile. For every surviving picture of a dozer on a ridge, there are dozens that were lost to water damage, fire or simple neglect.
Nevertheless, the few remaining images, combined with the recollections of those who were there, offer valuable insights into:
Looking back on these old mountain road pictures, several lessons emerge for modern engineers, contractors and equipment operators:
In the late 1960s, a small road-building crew was working in some of the most unforgiving terrain on Earth: the steep, landslide-prone mountains of Papua New Guinea. The photographs from that time are grainy and weathered, but they capture a slice of engineering history that was repeated all over the developing world after World War II — pushing roads into places where previously only footpaths and river canoes could reach.
The operator in these stories was tasked with reopening a mountain road that had been carved a few years earlier by a large bulldozer, likely a Caterpillar D7-class machine. At that time, the D7 series was a workhorse for heavy earthmoving. Developed during the 1930s and widely deployed in World War II for military road and airstrip construction, the D7 and its successors went on to sell tens of thousands of units worldwide. They were known for a good balance between power, weight and maneuverability, which made them common choices for forestry, mining and remote road construction.
Several years after the original road was cut, repeated wet seasons had triggered landslides that completely buried long sections of the track. The new crew’s mission was not to build a highway from scratch, but to reclaim a vanished road from beneath tons of unstable soil and rock.
A Razor-Back Ridge And A Braided River
One image shows a long, narrow ridge dropping down to a braided river. A braided river is a type of stream that splits into many shallow channels weaving around sandbars and gravel islands. These rivers usually indicate a high sediment load and variable flows. In mountain regions, they are often fed by intense rainfall and steep gradients.
To reach the blocked sections of road, the operator had to climb up what he described as a “razor-back” ridge — a narrow spine of ground with steep drops on either side. Working a dozer on such a ridge is not just a matter of skill but also of judgment: one poorly planned push can destabilize the slope below, causing a slide that takes machine, operator and track down with it.
From that precarious ridge, he started clearing the landslides that had buried the older bench road. Benching is the process of cutting a flat or gently sloping shelf into the side of a hill so that a road, track or terrace can be built. When you look at mountain roads that snake along a slope, what you’re really seeing is a series of benches carved into a hillside, step by step.
Why Cutting Downhill Is Safer
One of the key techniques described from this job is the idea of cutting downhill when benching. On steep, unstable slopes, working from the top down offers several advantages:
- You can see what the material is doing below you as you cut.
- Spoil (waste soil and rock) naturally moves down the slope, reducing the risk of it piling up dangerously above the machine.
- If a small slide starts under the cut, there’s often a chance to back away or let the material go, as opposed to pushing from below and undermining yourself.
The operator in these mountains considered pushing old landslides off the road more dangerous than benching fresh ground. With a fresh cut, you can “read” the material as you go. With a landslide, what you see is just the surface of a much larger volume of disturbed earth, often saturated with water and riddled with hidden slip planes.
Landslides And Disappearing Roads
In the pictures mentioned, many switchbacks and road sections are shown to be completely wiped out by wet-season landslides. This is common in high-rainfall mountain environments. When heavy rain saturates soil, the internal friction between particles drops, and entire sections of slope can let go, especially where previous cuts have disturbed the natural layering.
Some typical features of such landslide-prone areas include:
- Annual or seasonal rainfall well above 2,000–3,000 mm
- Steep slopes, sometimes exceeding 30–40 degrees
- Highly weathered rock and deep soil profiles
- Previous excavation for roads, pipelines or logging tracks
The Geometry Of Mountain Roads
Another contributor in the discussion reflected on how difficult it is to design and build roads on steep land. From an engineering perspective, mountain road geometry is a careful balance between:
- Grade
The slope of the road, usually stated as a percentage. Heavy trucks on dirt roads are often limited to grades of 8–12% for safety and traction.
- Curve radius
Sharp corners are risky for long vehicles and can cause rollovers or loss of control. But space for gentle curves is often lacking.
- Bench width
The width of the cut into the hillside must be enough for the road and a safety margin. On very steep ground, cutting a wide bench means removing a huge volume of material.
- Switchbacks
On very steep slopes, switchbacks — tight hairpin turns where the road reverses direction — become mandatory. But finding enough flat real estate for a safe switchback on a cliff-like hillside can be nearly impossible.
From Logging Railroads To Mountain Roads
One commentator compared these mountain roads to early logging railroads. In some regions, particularly in the northeastern United States, loggers built temporary or semi-permanent rail lines into forests to extract timber. The “roads” were actually steel rails spiked to rough ties, snaking around cliffs and gullies.
Instead of hauling cut logs, entire trees were sometimes removed by rail. Portions that weren’t suitable for lumber could still end up in kilns for charcoal production. In some states, charcoal manufacturing in the 19th and early 20th centuries created remarkable concentrations of wealth. In Vermont, for example, there were charcoal producers who became millionaires in an era when the energy market depended heavily on local fuels like charcoal and firewood.
These logging railroads were a kind of prototype for later mountain roads. Many of the same problems — steep grades, unstable slopes, tight curves — had to be solved with very limited technology compared to today. Rail designers had to think about how to fit a functional route into hostile terrain, not unlike the bulldozer operators benching roads into Papua New Guinea’s mountains a few decades later.
Risks, Experience And The Human Element
The question “How old are you?” shows how long a working life can stretch in this kind of industry. An operator who was already running heavy equipment in 1968 could easily still be sharing stories and advice many decades later.
There are several reasons experienced operators are so highly valued in remote and risky jobs:
- Pattern recognition
After thousands of hours in the seat, operators start to “feel” when a slope is unsafe, when a machine is over-leaning, or when the ground is starting to move under them.
- Improvised solutions
Old pictures often show techniques that aren’t in textbooks: building small safety berms with a blade, packing fill in layers by feel, or choosing a slightly different line on a slope because of a subtle change in soil color or moisture.
- Understanding local conditions
In places with monsoon seasons, volcanic soils or permafrost, local experience can matter as much as calculations. An operator who has lived through several wet seasons knows where the earth is likely to fail first.
Technical Considerations For Modern Mountain Road Work
Although the original job took place more than half a century ago, many technical lessons still apply today. Some practical guidelines for similar projects include:
- Geotechnical assessment
Whenever possible, conduct at least a basic soil and rock survey. Identify layers prone to sliding, such as clay lenses or weathered shale.
- Drainage first
In high rainfall areas, water management can be more important than the initial cut. Side ditches, cross-drains, culverts and surface shaping help prevent water from saturating slopes.
- Controlled benching
Work in small increments, especially on steep or unknown ground. Avoid undercutting existing slides from below.
- Monitoring for movement
Watch for cracks on the uphill side, fresh scarps, leaning trees, or small rockfalls. These can be early warning signs of a larger failure.
- Phase planning
Accept that some sections will need rebuilding. Plan for maintenance crews, access to fill material and safe turnaround points for equipment.
The original operator mentioned that many photographs from the steepest sections and dense jungle areas were destroyed in a major flood in the mid-1970s. It is a reminder that documentation of this kind of work is fragile. For every surviving picture of a dozer on a ridge, there are dozens that were lost to water damage, fire or simple neglect.
Nevertheless, the few remaining images, combined with the recollections of those who were there, offer valuable insights into:
- How remote roads were built before GPS, laser levels and modern safety standards
- What it feels like to guide a heavy machine along a knife-edge ridge
- How entire road networks can be erased and rebuilt repeatedly by landslides
Looking back on these old mountain road pictures, several lessons emerge for modern engineers, contractors and equipment operators:
- Respect the landscape
Steep, wet terrain never stops trying to return to its natural shape. Every cut is temporary unless constantly maintained.
- Combine old instincts with new tools
Modern projects have access to satellite imagery, drones, slope stability software and more. But the judgment of an experienced operator is still irreplaceable.
- Design for failure and recovery
In regions with intense rainfall and unstable geology, plan from the start for washouts and slides. Build in alternative access, stockpile fill and keep machines available for emergency repairs.
- Value long-term memory
Veterans who worked in the 1960s, 70s and 80s saw the same slopes fail multiple times. Their stories can prevent repeated mistakes on new projects.
