Monthly calendar report for February

THE WINNER

Photo by Jim Buckley.

Pennsy J #6496 slogs into Bellevue, Ohio; July 1, 1956.

My best February 2008 calendar entry is my All-Pennsy color calendar, Pennsy J #6496 (above).
The picture was taken in 1956, so #6496 looks a little neglected and battleworn, as did all Pennsy steam-engines as use of steam on the Pennsy wound down.
(Steam was discontinued on Pennsy in 1957.)
As mentioned earlier (Monthly calendar report for January, 2008), the J was not a true Pennsy engine.
Pennsy designed their steam-engines in-house, but didn’t do steam development in the ‘30s, because of -a) electrification, and -b) the many steam-engines electrification released.
So when WWII broke out, with its flood of traffic, Pennsy was stuck with tired old steam-engines from the ‘20s, and even the teens.
They had to go outside; they didn’t have time to develop a new steam-engine. —In fact, the War Production Board prohibited it.
Meanwhile, steam-locomotive development had leapt ahead during the ‘30s — primarily SuperPower from Lima (“LYE-mah;” not “LEE-mah”) Locomotive Works in Lima (“LYE-mah;” not “LEE-mah”), Ohio.
SuperPower was a big boiler and big firebox to generate prodigious amounts of steam; enough to not run out at constant high speeds.
The Pennsy J is the Lima SuperPower 2-10-4 designed for Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad, with slight modifications, mainly to make it Pennsy.
As such it lacks the trademark Belpaire firebox used on nearly all Pennsy steam-engines.
A Belpaire firebox isn’t round at the top, following the curvature of the boiler courses.
Connection of the firebox to the boiler has always been a challenge. That connection was prone to cracks and leaks, and could fail over time due to vibration.
Of course, the bottom of the firebox had to be flat to accommodate the fire grate, and the roof of the firebox was usually also flat, but the boiler-top over the firebox was round.
With a Belpaire firebox, the boiler-courses over the firebox-top were also flat (allowing a wider firebox roof), inviting difficulty where that area met the boiler.
But apparently Pennsy thought well enough of it to use the Belpaire design on just about every steam-engine. —Plus they engineered reinforcement into the design.
The J was also somewhat a misfit for Pennsy, since Pennsy was so mountainous it couldn’t allow high cruising speeds.
—Except west of the Alleghenies, where Js gravitated. The one pictured is on a north-south line in Ohio where a J could constantly cruise at 50+.
Js were also used on the slopes of the Alleghenies, and around Horseshoe Curve, but slogging uphill at 25-30 mph with a J was kind of a waste.
Yet the J was an extremely powerful locomotive, although my most recent Classic Trains Magazine relates one stalling uphill out of Indianapolis with over 100 cars.
The train made three attempts, and always stalled in the same spot.
On the fourth attempt it finally made it, but a small 600-hp diesel switcher was pushing on the rear.
Atop the grade, the switcher uncoupled and disconnected on-the-fly.
6496 may look a little tired, but there’s still that gorgeous red keystone number-plate.

C5

Photo by Richard Prince, I guess.

In second place this month is the beautiful dark-blue 2002 C5 Corvette (pictured above) in my All-Corvette calendar.
The C5 (1997-2004) is somewhat of a mistake to Corvette cognoscenti, big and blowsy.
It followed the C4 (1984-1996), and proceeds the fabulous C6 (2005-to current)
The “C”-letter nomenclature is kind of recent. Earlier Corvettes weren’t called that, although they have since been classified as such.
The earliest Corvettes (through the 1962 model-year) are C1s, the Sting Rays (1963-1967) the C2s, and the third iteration (1968-1983) the C3s.
But they weren’t labeled that at that time.
Of course, the Corvette would have never succeeded without that fabulous Small-Block motor.
Then too there was Zora Arkus Duntov trying to extract ever more performance out of the ‘Vette.
I remember hitchhiking in a StringRay at Houghton.
It was a coupe, which meant you had to wedge your luggage between the seats — no opening trunk.
And it felt like I was riding in a drum.
Sure sounded like a drum — every bump echoing through the body.
A guy at the mighty Mezz had a red C5.
He was only a newspaper-carrier; which meant where did he ever get the money to purchase a newish C5?
I remember looking at it longingly, but it was rather large, and I remembered my drum-experience at Houghton.
We also passed a red C5 going to a WXXI shindig at Brock Yates’ house in Wyoming, N.Y.
The C5 was being driven by a divorced dentist, dapper in his tan-suade Tab Hunter blazer and plaid ivy-league cap, with his gorgeous trophy-wife riding shotgun.
Yates had apparently restored the mansion he was living in, and it was featured in a locally-produced classic homes program. (Yates is also a WXXI listener.)
Yates was once an editor at Car-and-Driver Magazine, but now is retired. Like me he’s a car-guy, and more-or-less led my car enthusiasm.
So here we are in our CR-V, driving through rural Wyoming County, and we pass the red C5. Divorced-dentist was pussy-footing it for fear of inflaming the local constabulatory — a red Corvette is cop-bait.
Yates had set aside a small tree-shaded grassy meadow for parking; and our CR-V has about 10 inches of clearance, the C5 about three.
In we go — I was terrified; “don’t know as I woulda tried that,” I said to divorced-dentist.
The front of his C5 was shoving the grass down as he navigated the meadow.

Photo by Shawn Conley.

Norfolk Southern double-stack leaves Livernois Yard in Detroit in a snowshower with a single unit (#9601) on the point.

Third-best of my February calendar entries is my Norfolk Southern Employees calendar, a shot of a single GE road-unit leading a double-stack out of a yard in Detroit in a snowshower.
Sadly, diesel locomotives have gotten strong enough any more that often one unit is enough for a freight-train on flat terrain; especially if that locomotive is alternating-current (AC).
(9601 is not alternating-current.)
At first, all diesel-locomotives were direct-current to the traction-motors like trolley-cars. The giant diesel-engine pushed a generator that generated direct-current for the traction-motors on the wheel-axles.
But technology has advanced, such that locomotives can have alternating-current traction-motors, which lug better than direct-current.
So now where one diesel-locomotive might be enough, earlier two or more diesel-locomotives were needed.
And two or more units wide-open climbing a hill was a thrill — “assaulting the heavens,” I always said. (The GEs are quieter than the old EMDs; which were two-stroke and very loud.)
Diesel-locomotives have gotten more powerful too.
The first EMD diesel-electric road locomotives (the FT, in 1939) were 1,350 horsepower.
Now we’re over 4,000 — 9601 is a Dash 9-40CW (a Dash 9-44CW derated from 4,400 horsepower to 4,000 horsepower — all Norfolk Southern Dash-9s were built to the lower rating).
So between alternating-current and increased horsepower, often one unit is enough.
The mighty Curve still rates two or more units, but often those lead units are enough to negate the need for helpers.
Helpers are still kept at the base of The Hill, and often added to trains.
But I certainly have seen enough trains climbing The Hill unassisted.

Photo by Philip Makanna.

Hawker Hurricane (the airplane that won the Battle of Britain).

My friend the all-powerful Tim Belknap at the mighty Mezz will be pleased that the Hawker Hurricane is the February 2008 entry in my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar.
“The Spitfire was a more exciting airplane, but it was the Hurricane that won the Battle of Britain,” he tells me.
The Spitfires shot down the Messerschmidts, but it was the Hurricanes that shot down the Nazi bombers.
Hurricanes often returned to base riddled with cannon-fire. The Hurricane could take a beating.
It’s too bad the photo is rather pedestrian — too dark.
The Hurricane is not as exciting to look at as the Spitfire, but I’m sure they weren’t a pleasant site to German bomber crews.
Belknap apparently read a book that said it was the Hurricane that won the Battle of Britain.
I always thought it was the Spitfire. His comments were an education.

Photo by Peter Vincent.

The Mickey Ellis 1932 Ford roadster pickup.

Three calendars remain; most of which aren’t worth depicting.
I suppose the February entry in my All-Deuce calendar is worth depicting, although I don’t think it’s a very good picture.
It’s a ‘32 Ford roadster pickup, looking pretty stock, except it has a 350 Chevy Small-Block driving through a 700R4 auto-tranny.
Ho-hum. The best ‘32s are the coupes: three-window and then five-window. Followed by the roadsters.
Worst of all are the sedans, but the pickups look better.
To my mind, a pickup is nowhere near as attractive as a coupe — plus a ‘32 Ford pickup is not as functional as an Advance-Design Chevy, which looks great, and would carry a lot.
A ‘32 Ford pickup won’t carry much of anything. It’s essentially a car — although you could get pickup beds to fit in the open trunks of coupes long ago. (They probably didn’t have much capacity either.)

My Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy calendar isn’t worth depicting.
It’s a Pennsy freight with Alco power on the point. It’s on the storied Middle Division in Perdix, Pa.
Ho-hum. It least it’s Alco; which makes it worth publishing.
But it’s not a very dramatic picture.

Finally is my Three Stooges calendar.
Again, the Stooges only succeed in a movie. The pictures are probably single frames of movies — this looks rather familiar, a picture of Larry painting Curly’s head while Moe looks on aghast. It looks like an outtake from a Stooges movie where they are painters. Curly is looking the wrong way, and Moe looks unbelievable.
Such things would never get noticed in a movie, but in a picture they stand out like a sore thumb.
I doubt you could even pose the Stooges. Movies are their medium.

“Pennsy” is the Pennsylvania Railroad, no longer in existence. It merged with New York Central Railroad in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that went bankrupt in about two years. “Pennsy” was once the largest railroad in the world.

RE: “electrification........” —Pennsylvania Railroad electrified many of its eastern lines: i.e. it used electric locomotives, powered by overhead-wire (instead of third-rail). It electrified it’s entire main stem from New York City to Washington, D.C.; plus from Philadelphia to Harrisburg. Some remains, although now owned and operated by Amtrak: i.e. the New York City to Washington, D.C. segment as the Northeast Corridor (which has been recently electrified to Boston); and Philadelphia to Harrisburg. Pennsy wanted to electrify all the way to Pittsburgh, but never did. Other lines were also electrified, but have since been de-energized. Maintaining the wire is costly. Electrification is usually by third rail alongside the tracks, usually 600-volt direct-current. Pennsy’s electrification was 11,000-volt alternating current via suspended overhead wire. Pennsy’s electrified equipment had alternating-current motors. Direct-current motors would require rectification of the alternating-current. Later Pennsy equipment had this, when rectification by silicon-diode came into use. The E-44 freight-locomotives used 600-volt direct-current motors, same as diesel-electric locomotives.

RE: “Alleghenies......” — The north-south Allegheny mountains, part of the Appalachians, are the main barrier to east-west trade. They are particularly challenging in Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvania Railroad was phenomenally successful because it surmounted the Alleghenies without steep grades — extraordinary in the middle 1800s (when grading was a more a challenge than it is today). Their climb over the Alleghenies is known as “The Hill,” and includes Horseshoe Curve.

Horseshoe Curve (the “mighty Curve”), west of Altoona, Pennsylvania, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use. (I am a railfan.)

RE: “Uncoupled and disconnected on-the-fly.......” — The train did not stop to uncouple the helper engine.

The Chevrolet “Small-Block” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first at 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured. The Chevrolet “Big-Block” was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches, and was unrelated to the Small-Block.

“Houghton” is Houghton College, from where I graduated with a BA in 1966. I’ve never regretted it. Houghton is a religious college.

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over two years ago. Best job I ever had.

“WXXI”-FM, 91.5, is the classical-music radio-station in Rochester we listen to.

“The CR-V” is our 2003 Honda CR-V SUV.

“EMD” is Electromotive Division of General Motors, GM’s manufacturer of railroad diesel-locomotives. Most railroads used EMD when they dieselized; although many now use General-Electric railroad diesel-locomotives.

“Helpers” are often used to help a train get over a grade. If the road-power isn’t enough, helpers are often added to assist getting over a hill — often both front and back. The railroad has helper-sets based at the base of “The Hill” over the Alleghenies; usually sets of two or more locomotives. The “small 600-hp diesel switcher ... pushing on the rear” was a helper.

RE: “The all-powerful Tim Belknap.......” —Tim Belknap is an editor at Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, where I once worked; one of about seven. I once posted something by Belknap, and my brother-in-Boston loudly claimed Belknap was the whole and onliest reason the Messenger was so reprehensible; unaware the paper has at least seven editors, and Belknap is toward the bottom. Belknap like me is a car-guy, so we continue to keep in contact.

The 1932 Ford is known as “the Deuce.”

“Advance-Design Chevy” is the truck Chevrolet made from 1947 through 1952. It is especially attractive to hot-rodders, since it can accommodate a more modern engine (although the steering-column is in the way), and looks very cool. The current Chevrolet HHR is a copy of Advance-Design styling cues.

“Alco” is American Locomotive Company, a long-time manufacturer of railroad locomotives based in Schenectady, N.Y. — although it was an amalgamation of a number of prior steam-locomotive manufacturers. When railroads started to dieselize, American Locomotive brought a number of railroad diesel-electric locomotive models to market, but they weren’t as reliable as those marketed by EMD, so Alco tanked. —It no longer is in business.