That profit may in turn have accrued to Cobourg, rather than disappearing into the coffers of American steel barons, who paid Cobourg back by building magnificent summer homes here while avoiding paying those taxes which would have strengthened the town's infrastructure.

But we are ahead of ourselves here.

It was a very costly bridge.

By mid-May of 1854 the track had been sufficiently laid to Harwood that a delegation of Peterborough worthies were invited down by steamer to meet the train at the ferry docks there. From there they traveled the road down to Cobourg for a grand celebratory dinner at the North American Hotel.

The railroad was still in the hands of the contractor (he would turn the road over to the company only when it was complete) but the company began using it anyway on an ad hoc or as needed basis. Proudly they proclaimed that 1,970,000 feet of lumber passed through Cobourg harbour in one month that summer, to say nothing of receiving some $600 in passenger traffic.
By the end of the year the bridge and track to Ashburnham, just outside Peterborough, were finished to the extent that Zimmerman let the company have nominal control for a week in order to stage a gala celebration in Peterborough. On the twenty-ninth of December the railroad offered a free ride from Cobourg to Peterborough for the party. Twelve flatbed cars had benches nailed to the floors to provide transport for the guests and little else — except perhaps whiskey for warmth. One can imagine the first reactions on the part of the passengers to the smoke, the lurching back and forth and the cold of the apparently swift travel. Probably more apparent than real, as one guest is known to have wished them well and then set off on foot to ensure himself a good seat at the banquet hall in Peterborough.

The banquet was a success. William Weller, past-president of the company, made a terrible pun on his name:
"You know I get my living running stages, and now you are taking the bit out of my mouth, as well as my horses' mouths. All here tonight can recall having to carry a rail, instead of riding one, to help my coaches out of the mud. But, after all, I am rejoiced to see old things done away, and new things becoming Weller."

The president Thomas Scott, with by now predictable hubris, declared that they wouldn't rest until "... we have driven the iron horse to the town of Peterboro' on the west side of the river and stabled him there; and even then Sir, he will not, he cannot, he must not rest easy until he has reached..." Chemong Lake — with the usual implication that they could cross that as well if they felt like it.

The log is positioned and
" ... clack clack clack goes the little engine on the scow: slowly aloft mounts the great weight, down down down it comes - the first blow fixing the timber in its place - and sends a shower of bark flying from the pile...."