Another Faudi gig

I don’t know where this is, but it’s the six-target signal bridge.

The question, of course, is how long I can do this?
My balance is sloppy, but I marched right up the Curve steps like I always do — 194.
Of course, I do work out at the Canandaigua YMCA, plus I can still run (though 65).
Plus I can still walk my dog. (Hang on for dear life!)
But I keep getting older.
A guy in his 80s works out at the YMCA. —Keeps chuggin’ along.
Another guy in his 70s blasts the treadmill — uphill too.
Sometimes I think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.
I keep waking up every morning, and ain’t taking 89 bazilyun pills.
But I wonder at times......
Mowing lawn, big as it is, is no problem. I’m just sitting.
The lawnmower is doing all the work.
Another winter of fighting snow is fast approaching.
But another internal-combustion engine does all the work: my snowblower.
Both our cars are All-Wheel-Drive — maybe two or three driveway blowouts per winter.
But it’s a walk-behind; and I could probably shovel if I had to — I have.
The way I feel, both Tehachapi (“tuh-HATCH-uh-pee”) and Cajon (“kah-HONE”) in Californy are probably done. Maybe Cass (“Kass”) too — that’s almost eight hours away, although I could probably still do it.
Horseshoe Curve (the “mighty Curve”) is almost five hours, and easy driving too. We set out after 10 a.m., and arrived at Tunnel Inn in Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin”) PA just before 3 p.m.
But it’s becoming a drag. What we need is Scotty.
“Beam us to the mighty Curve, Scotty!”
I should mention one thing for faire Marcy (Marge).
We’re calmly bopping down a rural two-lane in Western NY, and I notice a sign for free-range eggs.
“I wonder what free-range eggs are?” I ask. —Marcy, it’s everywhere!


Rose.

Last visit, about five or six weeks ago, I wrote up our visit to the infamous spaghetti-joint: Lena’s café in Altoony.
I Googled Lena’s to see if they had a web-site, but apparently they don’t.
But I did run across reviews for Lena’s, and they all suggested getting the homemade noodles.
Lena’s can make its own pasta, but ya only get it if ya ask.
We never have, but have been tempted.
This time we did.
Ho-hum! Not discriminating palettes.
Homemade noodles cost extra. Back to store-bought noodles.

DAY TWO:


“Double” (two trains) at Brickyard Crossing.

The whole point of this trip is the Faudi (“FAW-dee”) railfan tour — a day-long train-chase with Phil Faudi, a local railfan extraordinaire.
I did it last year, alone, and it blew my mind.
Railfan overload.
I did it on a Monday, usually the worst day.
20 trains over nine hours!
Back-and-forth we zig-zagged all over.
Faudi has his rail-scanner along, tuned to 160.8, the Norfolk Southern operating channel, and knows the whereabouts of every train, as the engineers call out the signals, and various defect-detectors fire off.
He also knows all the back-roads, and how long it takes to get to various photo locations — and also what makes a successful photo — lighting, drama, etc.
“I think we can beat 20G to such-and-such, if we hoof it.”
Sudden U-turns in the middle of busy streets.
A bit hectic and nerve-racking, but safe.
I’m probably not as assertive behind the wheel myself, but I’ve been with worse.


Amtrak eastbound.

My blowhard, macho brother-from-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, ran a stop-sign in front of a state trooper once. We were chasing restored Nickel Plate steam-locomotive #765 in WV.
“Legal,” he bellowed. “We’re railfans!”
Later we were charging down a curvy paved byway little more than a lane wide deep into New River Gorge.
He almost slid head on into a roadside embankment — and then we waited well over an hour trackside for the train.
100 mph, flat out down a grade on Interstate-64, the fastest his company Lumina would go.
Faudi doesn’t drive like that.
A pace I couldn’t keep, but I wasn’t climbing under the dashboard.
Hectic, but not terrifying.


GP38s on a local. Chuffa-chuffa-chuffa-chuffa.

Our tour started at Cassandra Railfan Overlook; and immediately my camera threw a mysterious hairball — no auto-focus and no shoot.
I had just formatted a memory-card, but hadn’t tried it afterward.
I poked around and eyed it worriedly.
All-of-a-sudden, it started shooting and auto-focus.
“Don’t ask me why,” I said.
Off we zoomed to the next spots, mainly north of Altoona.
For the first time I saw “Rose” in Juniata (“june-ee-AT-uh”), the place where the railroad changes crews.
It was my second photograph of a train I photographed many times, perhaps 14G.
It had stopped at Rose to change crews.
To my mind the locations north of Altoona aren’t as photogenic as those I saw last year, but that may just be reaction to my having done it last year, so this year was old news.
Many of the views are tangent track with no curvature.
And the old Pennsy signal-towers front lineside foliage, instead of silhouetting against the sky.
The signal-tower at Summerhill silhouettes the sky, but a nearby highway overpass distracts.
The best locations are South Fork and Lilly, both looking west.
South Fork is a long open curve with great lighting; Lilly is similar from a highway overpass.


View from a highway overpass at Slope, west of Altoona. A work-crew is occupying Track Two.

The only location with a long curve, that I remember, is faraway Tyrone, where the railroad turns east into the Juniata river-valley.
There may have been others; I forget. None stood out enough to revisit, except Rose, and perhaps another highway overpass almost to Tipton, Pinecroft.
North of Altoona, the railroad is pretty flat and straight.
Everything was going wrong; a railroader’s nightmare.
Trains went into emergency, and one got blown in by a passing train for leaking antifreeze, and blowing it all over the engine.
The unit was isolated (idled), but not fixed.
As they used to say at the bus-company: “Take it through; see whatcha can do.......”
A train pulled in for a crew-change, but had to be tied down — no replacement crew was available.
Part of Track Two was out-of-service with a work-crew occupying it (see picture).
Orders were being issued to close track segments so maintainers could work.
All this despite a blizzard of trains.
We were jumping all over all day.
“Woops! 21N. Off we go!” and
“That UPS train is gonna hafta follow the slowpokes up The Hill. And that UPS train is the hottest train on the railroad; 79 hours coast-to-coast.”
I think we only missed three trains; and two of those by intent, one being the westbound Amtrak.
The other was the “trash-train,” a train of containers for carrying trash.
I’ve seen it on the Curve web-cam often; it’s probably the most identifiable — all beat-up looking purple-gray containers; four to a trailer-flat.


Four SD70-MACs lead a long train of coal empties.

The night previous to our chase, I mentioned to a Tunnel Inn patron to do the Faudi gig.
“Did it last year on a Monday, supposedly the worst day to chase trains. 20 trains over nine hours. Railfan overload! So tomorrow (Thursday), my next Faudi gig, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see 30.” (Thursday is supposedly the best day; and it was Wednesday night.)
I think Faudi had that number 30 in mind — a record, more-or-less.
At around 5 p.m. we watched a long train of empty hoppers back off the main toward a coal tipple.
That was train #27.
The Amtrak train and the other we intentionally missed would have been #28 and #29.
But by then us old folks were a bit bushed by all the ramming around.
So I suggested we watch the coal-train set up at the tipple for loading — we had gone to the tipple.


The empty hoppers back toward the tipple.

We hung around, and the coal-train finally cleared a road crossing it had blocked for a long time.
The engines, four AC SD70-MACs, disappeared into the woods, so we headed back toward Tunnel Inn.
But Faudi heard one, so we stopped at Lilly on the overpass, to me the most photogenic spot.
Saw two, #s 28 and 29. Got both. #29 is the last picture.
Back toward Tunnel Inn, but on a route parallel to the Main, because Faudi heard one climbing The Hill.
Swung around a curve, and there it is.
#30 in the tunnel; comin’ at us!
#s 31 through 33 passed after Faudi left us off.
Back to Cresson Springs Family Restaurant in nearby Cresson; #s 34 through 36 passed.
Darkness fell; #s 37 through 39.
And on into the night they went.
Every 10 minutes or so, a train; including eastbounds stopped nearby
before the tunnel for a brake-test. (Before descending The Hill.)

DAY THREE: RETURN HOME


Eastbound at Gray interlocking near Tyrone.

Back to reality, the reality of wondering if I can still do this.
I probably can.
I hope to reserve an October Fall Foliage date, and probably another Faudi gig next year.
But that may be the last.
Faudi is still pretty agile, despite being slightly older than me.
I just look like I’m puked out, and am to some degree.
But I have to move slower to avoid falling.
“Up for a short hike?” Faudi asked.
Off we went up a treacherous jeep-trail, Faudi far ahead, and me the caboose.
I have to plan every footfall.
We were near The Ledges, a photo-spot.
“Something’s coming down,” he said. “We have to move fast up to The Ledges to beat it.”
We passed. The train would have beat us.
It would have taken me three times as long as Faudi to navigate that treacherous uphill four-wheeler trail to The Ledges.
It takes me a long time just to get out of a car; probably three times the average person.
I have to turn and get both feet firmly on the ground before attempting to stand.
And standing is arm-assisted.
I feel like I’m reprising Aunt Ginny, although she weighed almost 350 pounds — I weigh 190.
Aunt Ginny would grab both the windshield and door posts to hoist herself out of a car.
After she did, the car rose about three inches on its shocks. The car always tilted down toward Aunt Ginny.
I suppose Faudi has shepherded complete cripples.
I get around fairly well; it’s partly bullheadedness.
My younger brother-in-Boston is in much worse shape, but could probably equal me. —He’s bull-headed.
I managed to do the Brickyard Crossing without falling.
Westbound is a short uphill hike on a semi-treacherous path atop an embankment.
Eastbound is back down to trackside.
Two “doubles” at Brickyard, both with westbounds.
Up the hill to get the westbound, and then quickly back down because Faudi heard one coming down.
Then quickly back up to get another westbound in a double (picture #3), then back down to grab another eastbound.
A few years ago I fell hard on this path, and ripped my pants. Also drew blood outta my knee.
Managed to do the path twice without falling, and quickly too. All it takes is concentration. I can’t do it automatically.


Eastbound at Lilly; train #29.

If anything was learned during this foray, it’s how inflexible railroading is.
Driving bus I could usually find a way around impediments, but trains use the same track.
If one track is blocked by trackwork (picture #5), the UPS train follows the slowpokes.

• All photos by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100 camera.