Monthly Calendar-Report For September, 2009

Bam-bam-bam-bam! (Photo by O. Winston Link.)

—He’s done it again!
Mr. Link has successfully captured and depicted the drama of Norfolk & Western Railway slugging it out eastbound up Blue Ridge Grade.
The September 2009 entry of my O. Winston Link “Steam and Steel” calendar is a Norfolk & Western freight-train assaulting Blue Ridge Grade.
Blue Ridge Grade, east of Roanoke, VA, is the final impediment to Norfolk & Western Railway delivering its torrent of Pocahontas coal to tidewater.
It’s only 1.2%; not that steep, but steep enough.
The engine depicted isn’t identified, but appears to be an “A,” a 2-6-6-4 articulated. That’s an A’s pilot. A Y6’s (2-8-8-2) is slatted.
It’s pulling a merchandise freight; not coal. It probably has a Y6 helper on the back.
Link is taking advantage of poor conditions to get a standout picture.

Photo by Bob Crone.

I’ve flown a similar picture by Bob Crone for comparison.
It appears to have been taken at the same place, yet is droll compared to Link.
Crone’s picture is in sunlight. Distractions are sunlit.
With Link the adjacent trees are muted by the fog, so the train stands out.
One of the first pictures I had published, in Road & Track Magazine, of the Canadian Grand Prix in 1971, is in the fog at Mosport (“MAH-sport”) race track near Toronto.

Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the Pentax Spotmatic camera.

It was so foggy and dark I pushed my Tri-X clear outta sight; ASA 2400 instead of the usual 400. My developer was Acufine® — strong stuff; it increased film-speed.
But at 2400 the film looks like 400-grit sandpaper; so grainy ya notice.
Yet there is Mario Andretti in a Ferrari blasting up the back straight at Mosport in the fog.
A simple picture; an inadvertent attempt to grab something out of the fog.
It has drama for shoving all distraction aside. I don’t think it woulda worked in sunlight.
They used it, nationwide; a mood shot.
Link was doing the same thing. You can see grain; although it’s a 4x5 negative instead of 35 mm.


‘Vette, a 1960.

—The September entry of my Oxman legendary sportscar calendar is a 1960 Chevrolet Corvette.
The Corvette has always been badmouthed by sportscar fanatics.
The earliest Corvettes were terrible; little more than a glitzy body on a sedan chassis.
Plus at first it had a boat-anchor of a motor, a hot-rodded Chevy Stovebolt-six with multiple carburetors.
But in the 1955 model-year, Chevrolet introduced its fabulous Small-Block V8, and began installing it in the Corvette.
At last the humble Corvette was beginning to shine, although mainly it was that Small-Block. The chassis was still the unsophisticated sedan chassis.
The Corvette didn’t really become a sportscar until the 1963 model-year, the first Corvette to display the heavy influence of Zora Arkus-Duntov.
The ‘63 Corvette Sting-Ray introduced independent-rear-suspension, although an el-cheapo interpretation thereof.
What shone above all was the Small-Block V8, plus the four-speed floor-shifted tranny Duntov got.
The car pictured is a 1960; one of the early Corvettes.
The best looking early ‘Vettes are the ‘56 and ‘57; the most collectible the ‘57 with fuel-injection.
The ‘58 introduced quad headlights, and they look overdone by comparison.
The ‘60 is essentially the ‘58.
The early ‘Vettes are essentially drag cars: fast in a straight line. Don’t throw a curve at it. They’re not a sportscar. Unsophisticated underpinnings.

Photo by the so-called “old guy.”

Mitchell’s ‘58 Corvette.

I’ve included a long-ago picture of a white ‘58 Corvette from when I was in high-school.
The owner, named Mitchell, had traded a great-looking white ‘55 Chevy two-door hardtop, floor-shifted four-speed Small-Block.
I’m sure the ‘Vette was stronger, but it was a great-looking ‘55; the car I lusted after all through college.
I notice Mitchell’s ‘Vette had -a) short lakes pipes, -b) wide-whites, -c) spun-aluminum disc hubcaps, and -d) some of the vertical grill-teeth removed.
“Mitchell” was a son of the owner of “Mitchell’s Department Store” in Fairfax Shopping Center near where we lived.
The car is parked behind the shopping center.
Spun-aluminum full-disc hubcaps became very popular when I was in high-school.
One afternoon earlier in northern Delaware I was peddling my ancient RollFast balloon-tire bicycle through the parking-lot of Fairfax Shopping Center.
I was probably 14; this is 1958.
I noticed three Corvettes parked in front of the bowling alley; two ‘57s and a ‘56. One ‘57 was fuel-injection.
All-of-a-sudden four macho dudes burst out of the bowling alley and slammed into the ‘Vettes.
I immediately peddled my bicycle up to the parking-lot exit where it spilled onto four-lane Route 202.
I knew I was about to witness AN EVENT.
Sure enough, the three ‘Vettes roared out on 202, and wound out to about 7,000 rpm in first gear.
Smoke poured from the rear tires!
I’ve been a sucker for the Small-Block ever since. All through high-school and college I dreamed of owning a four-speed Small-Block.
My enthusiasm waned somewhat when motorcycle manufacturers began fielding motors even more sophisticated.
But not for Corvettes.
Sadly Chevrolet is still fielding pretty much the same car; a glitz-machine with a great motor.
And recent Corvettes are pretty good.
Just not the great sportscars that Honda and Mazda put out.
Too big and heavy.
And Corvette’s motor is still two-valve with cam in block. Even Ford is fielding four-valves-per-cylinder and overhead cams.
The best ‘Vettes were those 1963-1967 C2 Corvettes. Corvette started to falter after 1968 (the C3). —The newer ‘Vettes are better, but not what the C2 was back then.
Part of it was the buyer; people more interested in luxury than sporting performance.
The Corvette became the preserve of macho wannabees — profiling.
Still a super car, but with a motor pumped up by size and supercharging.


A Norfolk Southern coal train crosses Clinch River near Ceder Bluff, VA. (Photo by Chris Dalton.)

—The September 2009 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees calendar is a Norfolk Southern coal-train crossing Clinch River in VA.
Three things are worth mentioning here:
—1) It looks like the boys at the Norfolk Southern calendar contest are trying to inject fall foliage into the September entry.
In my experience, this is early.
Even here up north, the trees don’t turn until October. I can’t imagine them turning any sooner in VA.
Which means the picture was probably taken in October.
—2) 2662 is an SD70M-2, the locomotive EMD fielded to compete with General Electric’s phenomenally successful Dash9-44CW.
EMD used to monopolize the railroad locomotive market.
It’s locomotives were so great they put Alco out of business, and Alco was their major competition.
But General Electric fielded its U-boat series, which compared with anything EMD.
Newer series were brought to market by General Electric, and they eventually passed EMD in sales.
EMD also had to design an all-new four-cycle prime mover comparable to what GE was using, and also to meet the new “Tier 2” emission regulations; replacing their storied two-cycle prime mover that had been around since the beginning of railroad dieselization.
2662 has the new motor; and Norfolk Southern bought quite a few. SD70-M2s are showing up as primary power on the point of freights.
It’s getting so ya see more of them than the General Electric units — Norfolk Southern derated the Dash9-44CWs to 4,000 horsepower from 4,400; Dash9-40CWs.
General Electric also developed a 12-cylinder diesel to meet the emission requirements; the “Evolution Series.”
Don’t know as I’ve noticed any on Norfolk Southern yet, but probably have. They look just like Dash9s; ya tell them by number.
—3) My question was whether this was the storied Norfolk & Western main, or Virginian.
Looks like only one track.
I dragged out my 1928 Railroad Atlas, and my VA gazateer. Looks like it’s a branch off the N&W main — it’s not far from Bluefield.
Virginian was built to counter two things: -a) the fact Norfolk & Western had a monopoly on shipping Pocohontas coal, and -b) Norfolk & Western was a difficult railroad to operate; all hills and curves.
Virginian was built to an easier profile; it followed river valleys instead of climbing the Blue Ridge like N&W.
N&W had to climb two or three mountain grades to cart coal eastbound to tidewater.
Virginian avoided that.
But Virginian never became a success; they eventually had to sell to Norfolk & Western.
So the question was whether the coal-train pictured was on the old Virginian grade.
It’s not.


Tudor.

—That’s the Ford appellation. “Tudor.”
The September 2009 entry of my Oxman hot-rod calendar is a hot-rodded 1932 Ford two-door sedan highboy.
“Highboy” in the sense that it’s at stock ride-height, not lowered, although devoid of fenders.
Who would ever think I’d like a humble Ford two-door sedan as a hot-rod?
The 1932 Ford is the most popular hot-rod of all time.
A number of body styles were available, most popular as hot-rods being the two-seat open roadster, and the coupes.
Best looking to me are the three-window coupes, although the five-window looks okay.
A five-window coupe has small windows behind the door-posts, rendering five windows total other than the windshield.
A three-window coupe doesn’t have the small windows behind the door-posts, to me rendering a cleaner appearance.
Also available was a large open pheaton (“fay-uh-tin”) that would seat four. It was nicknamed “the bathtub,” since it looked like that, and exposed its passengers to the elements.
Least desirable were the sedans; two-door and four-door, closed, but rather large and heavy.
Other body styles were available, notably the “Victoria” (“Vicky”), and a cabriolet (“cab-ree-oh-LAY”), a convertible. —Both ware rare.
The roadster wasn’t a convertible. It had just a flimsy rag-top that attached to the windshield, and the body behind the seats. It didn’t fold down. —Little weather protection.
The Vicky was a full-steel two-door sedan, although slightly shorter with a bustle-back. The sedans still had fabric top inserts, but the Vicky was all-steel.
All ‘32 Fords were cheap and available, so that once-in-a-while somebody would hot-rod a sedan, or worse yet a pheaton.
Yet here we have a two-door sedan that looks really great.
Slam (lower) the poor dear, and it would look terrible.
But the owner, Steve Young, didn’t do that.
It’s named the “LA sedan,” fulfillment of a hot-rod sedan concept in a magazine.
And that’s a 392 Hemi engine. —It has six carburetors.
The car shouldn’t be slow, but is probably a trailer-queen.
And them exhaust headers are all open. Start it, and it will clean your ears out.


One of only two. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The September 2009 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is one of only two remaining flyable B24s.
It’s depressing to think out of over 18,000 built, only two remain flyable, and this is one: “Ol’ 927” of the Commemorative Air Force.
The B24 was progress over the B17; it had greater range, and could carry a bigger payload.
But not much. Both were still sitting ducks for enemy fighters; bog slow.
Both were dependent on heavy armament; machine guns galore.
That’s all they had to defend against marauding enemy fighters, unless they had accompanying fighters themselves.
The North-American P51 Mustang made that possible. Earlier fighters didn’t have the range.
Over enemy territory, alone and far from base, the B17s and B24s were sitting ducks.
No fighter accompaniment until the P51, an airplane that could run circles around Messerschmitts.
The B24 was a large strategic bomber, an airplane designed to deliver a heavy load of bombs a great distance.
It saw heavy use, but mainly over Italy and in the Pacific.
Assembly-lines were set up the produce B24s prodigiously.
It’s shameful only two remain flyable. —This is in comparison to the B17; 13 still airworthy. Seemed there were more than that — B17s are a dime a dozen.
The other flyable B24 is the one flown by the Collings Foundation.
I think this is the one I saw at the Geneseo Air Show years ago, although it had a paintjob that at-that-time seemed out-of-the-ordinary. It named all the contributors to its restoration on the flanks of its fuselage.
Thankfully, the Collings Foundation dispensed with that, if it was them.
Now their B24 is painted with an actual WWII paint-scheme.
Years ago I used to stay at a Days Inn in Altoona, when visiting Horseshoe Curve. The guy who founded that motel flew B24s during WWII. A painting of a B24 was in the motel lobby.
“That’s a B52,” said the motel clerk.
“It is not!” I yelled.
“It’s a B24.”
She was dumbfounded.
The Days Inn is now a Holiday Inn Express; that B24 pilot is probably dead.


Hemi ‘Cuda. (Photo by David Newhardt.)

—The September 2009 entry of my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar is a 1971 Hemi ‘Cuda.
The later Barracudas (which this one is; 1970-1974) are not as good as the early ones, although the early ones weren’t very good either.
The later ‘Cudas (and similarly the Dodge Challenger) were based on the mid-size Plymouths and Dodges; that is, the firewall and passenger compartment are essentially the same as the mid-size Mopars.
The earlier ‘Cudas were based on the Plymouth Valiant/Dodge Dart; essentially with a fastback body.

1965 Barracuda.

They debuted in the 1964 model-year; the car pictured at left is a 1965.
Technically they are the first ponycar (it beat the Mustang by two weeks), although they didn’t do what Mustang did, which was lengthen the hood section, and shorten the trunk — a modification of the plebeian Ford Falcon platform that sold like hotcakes.
That’s the long-hood, short-trunk jones common to many sportscars at that time.
A look.
Barracuda didn’t have that, so they moved on to generation two, pictured below, 1966-1969 — the car pictured is a 1968.
This looked much better, but still wasn’t the long-hood, short-trunk theme.

1968 Barracuda.

The second-generation ‘Cuda is probably the best. It looked pretty good; just not as good as the Mustang.
I remember rallying in one as a passenger in a sportscar rally. The rally was put on by the Corvair Owners Club — Corvair being probably the best car Detroit ever made.
Almost a Porsche (“poor-SHA”).
But the rallyist had moved beyond the humble Corvair. The car had a 440 cubic-inch V8 engine. Overkill! Stick your foot in it and hold on for dear life.
Rallying was more navigation and hitting time-points precisely. If ya did all this correctly, ya didn’t have to speed.
Numerous navigation mistakes were made, requiring hammer-down.
And then there was waiting in line in sight of a time-point. Too much hammer-down caused arriving early. —In which case, get in line and shut off.
The guy’s wife was navigator. My reaction was if they could survive this, marriage was nothing!
Still, a nice looking car. And a fastback. Notchbacks and convertibles were also available. I think it was red.
But it didn’t have the long-hood short-trunk Mustang appearance.
So on to Generation #3.
Long-hood short-trunk jones applied, but to the mid-size midsection.
Looked okay, just large.
But the other ponycars were getting larger too. The ‘70 and ‘71 Mustang are the best looking Mustangs, but larger than the original.
In 1972 the Mustang got larger still; too large.
The ‘71&1/2 and ‘72 Camaros are a styling triumph — one of the best looking cars of all time.
But too big.
The Generation 3 Barracuda looks okay, but it looks like they couldn’t decide what to do with the grill insert.
Too busy!
And a Hemi motor, fabulous as it is, would make the car front-heavy.


Baldwin Sharks move through Marysville on the old Middle Division on Memorial Day of 1955. (Photo by Don Wood©.)

—The September 2009 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy Calendar is not that good, three Baldwin Sharks on the old Middle Division in 1955.
But two things are worth flying it:
—1) It’s a Don Wood picture.
Not very good, but Don Wood is the photographer whose photos were used in the first Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy Calendars.
The Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy Calendar began in the ‘60s, a collaboration of publisher Carl Sturner with photographer Wood.
And some of Wood’s photographs were incredible; photographs of the end of steam locomotion on Pennsy in the ‘50s.
Most memorable was an image of Pennsy Decapods (2-10-0) slamming the heavy Mt. Carmel ore-train upgrade on the Mr. Carmel branch.
It was in the dead of winter, and a huge column of backlit smoke and steam towers above the engines.
Very dramatic, but this one isn’t.
And Don Wood is dead.
—2) The locomotives are Baldwin Sharks, what railfans perceive as the best-looking early diesel locomotive.
They were styled by Raymond Loewy, who fixed up the styling of the incredible GG1 (“Gee-Gee-One”) electric locomotive for Pennsy.
The Sharks looked great, but Pennsy hated ‘em. Too undependable. They’d cripple and block the railroad.
It was a demonstration of a major Pennsy mistake: putting off dieselization to the last minute.
And thereby having to purchase diesels from anybody and everybody.
Including Baldwin Locomotive Works.
Baldwin had built steam locomotives for eons.
They were a main supplier to Pennsy, although to Pennsy designs.
But their diesels were wanting, especially compared to EMD (GM’s Electromotive Division).
But much prettier than the EMD F-unit.
It’s a shame the plain-jane F was so much more reliable; but mainly a criticism of Baldwin.
And the Shark was much prettier than Baldwin’s first efforts, e.g. the Centipede , pictured below.

Baldwin Centipede at Horseshoe Curve.

Baldwin had built the Centipede as passenger power for Pennsy.
But it was so unreliable it was degraded to helper service on The Hill, Pennsy’s assault of the Allegheny mountains, which includes Horseshoe Curve.
Plus -a) they were very hard to maintain — individualized wiring in metal conduits, just like steam locomotives, and -b) they couldn’t be MU-ed.
Baldwin eventually went out of business.