Saturday, October 03, 2009

Monthly Calendar report for October, 2009


Yowzuh! (Photo by David Newhardt.)

—Fast-forward about 36-37 years and you come upon what musclecars are now, a 2007 Shelby GT500 Mustang.
The 2007 Shelby GT500, pictured in my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar, doesn’t fit the definition of ‘64-‘71 musclecars; but no matter. It’s the most desirable of all the musclecars pictured in this calendar.
The newest Mustangs are retro; styled to look like Mustangs of old. But that’s okay, because the new Mustangs are on a really great platform, shared with Lincoln’s BMW competitor, now the MKZ, that also has the V8.
But the Lincoln is four doors; the Mustang only two.
There’s no denying what 35+ years will do for chassis development.
The new Mustang is still tractor layout, but much better than the musclecars of old.
Photo by the so-called “old guy”
with the dreaded and utterly
reprehensible Nikon D100 camera.
Not my brother’s car, but identical. (Same year, same color, 454SS.)
My brother-in-Boston has one, a 1971 454 SS Chevelle.
It was frightening; way too much motor in a flopsy old chassis.
Quaking with each piston-thrust.
My baffled reaction was “people used to streetrace these things.”
GT500: 12.9 in the quarter, 112 mph, 0-60 in 4.6 seconds.
Just last month I flew a Hemi-‘Cuda; 13.7 seconds, 101.25 mph in the quarter — fastest, it said.
The 1970 musclecars brag about 100 mph in the quarter; the Shelby GT500 is much faster.
“Fast enough,” I’d say.
And probably less frightening.
I bet it’s not quaking all over at idle, and acting like it’s headed for the weeds.
It uses a 5.4-liter supercharged version of the overhead-cam 32-valve V8.
What a fabulous motor!
Would that Chevrolet’s vaunted Small-Block could be as good.
A year ago I saw one plugged into a red ‘56 Ford pickup.
It was at the Wegmans “Kar-Kruze” auto show, and pulled out onto four-lane Eastern Blvd. after the show.
What a sound! Up through the gears he revved it.
Ford engineers took time to make the motor in a Mustang sound like Lt. Frank Bullitt’s 1968 390GT Mustang.
And they succeeded.
In fact, I’d say the four-cam V8 sounds even better than the Bullitt car.
Righteous!


Ma and Pa Pope view the last steam-powered passenger train on the Norfolk & Western. (Photo by O. Winston Link.)

The October 2009 entry of my O. Winston Link “Steam and Steel” calendar is the famous Pope’s porch picture; Mr. and Mrs. Ben Franklin Pope on the porch of their home outside Max Meadows, VA, New Years Eve 1957, watching what the caption says is the last steam-powered passenger train on the Norfolk & Western Railroad.
This is it, people. After this, no more steam locomotives on N&W passenger trains.
611.
The train is powered by one of N&W’s fabulous J class 4-8-4s.
Only one is left, J number 611 (pictured at left).
I’ve ridden behind it, and before the Dismal Swamp derailment; 60-70 mph running on the old Nickel Plate.
They used to do railfan excursions with 611, but no longer — it’s retired to the Virginia Museum of Transportation in Roanoke.
After the Dismal Swamp derailment, which didn’t actually derail 611, just some of its following train, 611 was limited to 45 mph. There was concern track was no longer designed for a 611.
It was depressing. A J like 611 was good for sustained 100 mph running.
It had roller-bearings throughout; even in the siderods.
It was heavy, but could be pulled by hand. It had very little rolling resistance.
But steam-powered passenger trains on N&W cost over $1.50 for every dollar taken in.
Plus a steam locomotive required frequent heavy maintenance, although the J minimized that.
Steam locomotion was doomed. Even N&W, tied to moving great quantities of coal, the fuel for steam locomotives, had to go diesel.
Link loved this porch.
It’s obviously a set up picture.
But Link was chronicling the last steam-powered railroad in America.


The greatest twin-engine medium bomber of WWII. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The October 2009 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a B25, arguably the best twin-engine medium bomber of WWII.
My warbirds site says 9,889 were built, and about 34 are still flying.
I’ve seen many of those.
At least six were at a Geneseo Air Show some time ago.
A few years ago I saw two flying over southeastern Pennsylvania.
I was on my way to northern Delaware to visit my younger brother who lives there.
I was on Route 41 near Avondale, southeast of Lancaster and the Pennsylvania Dutch Country.
Two flew overhead.
They were slow, but very pretty, and sounded awesome.
North American Aviation had never built an airplane that big before, yet the B25 was a smashing success.
B25s were the first to bomb Japan in World War II, the famous Doolittle raid of April 18, 1942.
Doolittle and his cohorts flew B25s off the aircraft carrier Hornet.
An aircraft carrier was barely enough to get ‘em in the air. No catapults; just takeoff roll.
They flew 800 miles to Japan, bombed their targets, and then flew on into China, where most made forced landings.
They couldn’t return to the Hornet. —I doubt they could have landed on an aircraft carrier; they probably woulda had to been ditched and thereby lost.
It was a B25 that crashed into the Empire State Building. Crashed into the 79th floor — a 10-ton airplane. Left a gaping hole in it, filled with smashed airplane.
The Empire State Building survived, its structural integrity unaffected. But the crash killed 14 people, including the pilot, Lt. Colonel William Smith, and two other crewmen, plus 11 office workers.
A B25 was set up as a camera platform for the Cinerama® movies.
The Cinerama® movies were a system to compete with the early 3D movies of the ‘50s.
The theater had a wrap-around screen, but needed three projectors.
The system also needed three cameras, one for each projector.
There were three movies in the Cinerama® series, and I saw all three.
The first had footage taken from the bombardier’s post of the B25, of flying down the East River next to Manhattan.
The airplane flew under all the bridges; including the Brooklyn Bridge.
Anything larger woulda probably crashed — anything smaller could not have carried the cameras.
A B25 was just the right size; and the cameras could be mounted in the nose — the bombardier’s post.
The second Cinerama movie had the three cameras set up in the front car of a roller-coaster.
Another trick was to set the three cameras up in the front of a bobsled.
At the Geneseo Air Show the B25s do pumpkin drops.
The airplanes fly about 100 feet over a runway with a target, and lob pumpkins out the open bomb bay.
The crew that gets closest to the target wins.
The airplanes are doing about 150 mph, so the pumpkins explode as they hit the runway.
Guile-and-cunning is required to get the pumpkins near target.


A Norfolk Southern train of Pocahontas coal on the old Norfolk & Western main near Willowton, WV. (Photo by Rich Borkowski.)

—The October 2009 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees calendar is a Norfolk Southern coal-train.
What this reminds me of is our recent trip to the Horseshoe Curve area, when I (we) joined local railfan Phil Faudi (“FAW-dee”) on a train-chase.
We saw (photographed) 30 trains, many looking like this picture — that is, nothing special.
Well, this picture looks great because the SD70-M on the point looks brand new.
The EMD SD70-Ms and M2s are still fairly recent, but many of the trains I saw had General-Electric Dash9-40CWs.
The Dash9-40CWs were recently premier power, but now we’re seeing more SD70-M2s.
Photo by the so-called
“old guy” with the dreaded
and utterly reprehensible
Nikon D100 camera.
Dash9-40CW leading 14G changes crews at “Rose” north of Altoona.
The Dash9-40CWs, being older, are beginning to look bedraggled and battle-worn.
Badly in need of a wash, or paint worn off.
That white-striping on the nose can obliterate, and dirt accumulates on top of it.
The “Thoroughbred” horse disappears under the mud.
Trains galore, and they gotta keep moving. Dash9-40CWs to the rescue.
You could always tell when a Dash9-40CW went past Tunnel Inn, our bed-and-breakfast in Gallitzin (“Guh-LIT-zin) at the old Pennsy tunnels: “RHUMBA-RHUMBA-RHUMBA-RHUMBA!”
SD70-Ms and M2s sound a little like this — they have a new 710 cubic-inch per cylinder motor designed to meet emission requirements.
But a General-Electric Dash9-40CW is discernible. Nothing else sounds like it. “RHUMBA-RHUMBA-RHUMBA-RHUMBA!”
Shakes the old Tunnel Inn even though it’s a brick building.
Tunnel Inn was built in 1905 by Pennsy as the Gallitzin town offices and library.
It’s right next to the tunnel mouths at the top of Pennsy’s crossing of the Allegheny mountains in Gallitzin.


T-bone.

—That’s what hot-rodders called Model Ts: “T-bone.”
The October 2009 entry of my Oxman Hot-Rod Calendar is a hot-rodded 1926 Ford Model-T two-door, the famous “Cad-T.”
It was constructed in 1974 by famous hot-rodder Li’l John Butera, and one wonders if at first it had a Cadillac engine. (I think it did.)
It’s a Model-T, but has many of the fitments of a 1972 Cadillac Eldorado, especially inside.
The car is now powered by a hot-rodded 289 Ford Small-Block with a B&M modified C4 auto-tranny.
It’s so bolt-erect and square it almost qualifies as a “phonebooth-T,” but that’s the coupe. This is the two-door sedan.
Stock 1927 Model-T coupe, a “phonebooth.”
A picture of a “Phonebooth-T” is at left, but it’s stock, not hot-rodded.
And unlike the sedan, the coupe body looks like a phonebooth in the passenger area.
More popular among hot-rodders was the “T-cup” roadster, also called a “T-Bucket,” also pictured (below).
The open Model-T two-seater roadster was just an open body much like a teacup.
A hot-rodded “T-Bucket,” the famous “Green T” roadster.
Hot-rodders would take advantage of its utter simplicity, and plug a mega-power V8 ahead of the T-cup.
The T-cup pictured is an example.
Every once-in-a-while one goes by in front of our house.
Sunshine of course. No weather protection at all.
You’re riding in an open bucket.
The engine is overkill; mucho induction noise.
The racket always gets my attention.
“Oh, a Bucket-T hot-rod!”
The Bucket-T hot-rod has become so popular, fiberglass reproductions of the T-bucket body are available.
“Green T” is from a kit.
Books are available on how to build one.
Building one should be simpler than a 1932 Ford hot-rod.
The “Cad-T” has independent-rear-suspension (IRS) from an XKE Jaguar (“jagg-you-ARE”).
IRS was popular back then, and still better handling rough pavement.
Hot-rodders used to graft Jaguar IRS into hot-rods, and even the Corvette IRS introduced in 1963.


Pennsy’s “American” highballs east of St. Louis in Illinois about 1930 with a K4 Pacific (4-6-2) on the point. (Photo by R.J. Foster©.)

—The October 2009 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy Calendar is Pennsy’s “American” passenger train, train 66, St. Louis to New York City about 1930.
This is how cross-country travel used to be before commercial air-travel and the Interstates.
When people needed to get to a faraway city, they took the train.
That’s all there was.
Often the trip was overnight, but this train is a day-trip to Pittsburgh.
An early morning departure from St. Louis. Then all day eastward, finally into New York City that night.
There was a business-class of sorts, but it was far more amenable than business-class (or First Class) on an airliner.
You could get up and walk around, or park your butt in a lounge, and smoke cigars. —Often the lounge was the last car, an observation; and had a bar.
The train is powered by a steam locomotive, a K4 Pacific (4-6-2); the locomotive that came to symbolize Pennsy, since they used so many.
And by then Pennsy had gravitated to its gorgeous red-and-yellow keystone number-plate in the center of the front smokebox door.
I have a plastic casting of such a number-plate in my living-room.
25 years hence it would have been two tuscan-red EMD E7 diesels, but pulling pretty much the same train, although probably newer lightweight streamlined cars.
But inside would be pretty much what you see here, able to get up and walk around, or park your butt in a lounge, and smoke cigars.
To my mind, cross-country travel has gotten worse.
The only advantage to commercial air travel is speed.
Even coach travel on a train is way more open than on an airliner, where you’re crammed cheek-to-jowl like in a cattle-car.
The advantage to Interstate automotive travel is point-to-point.
Neither airlines nor trains are point-to-point. You end up in a station or an airport-terminal.
After that it’s a rental-car, which you don’t need with your own car.
Years ago I took Amtrak’s Silver Meteor to Florida.
Amtrak is after 1971; the Meteor is Seaboard Air Line (railroad) — the Meteor began in 1939; “silver” because it was new stainless-steel cars.
SAL merged with parallel Atlantic Coast Line in 1967, and Seaboard Coast Line merged with Chessie in 1980, eventually becoming CSX Transportation (railroad).
Amtrak’s Meteor ran on CSX — but the old SAL route.
Not too long ago I took Amtrak’s Auto-Train® to Florida.
All the amenities of trains of old, plus first-class sleeping accommodations.
Dining car, theater car, lounge car; the whole kabosh.
We deferred.
Our sleeping compartment was cramped and tiny — you couldn’t even stand.
Although it was the SlumberCoach compartment; tiny compartments next to a center aisle.
(“SlumberCoach” is the old pre-Amtrak terminology. Amtrak may have a new name for it.)
A standard sleeping compartment has bedrooms almost the full width of the car, with the walking aisle along the side of the car.
Such compartments were available, but we chose SlumberCoach, mainly because the beds were lengthwise to the car.
Most sleeping compartments have their beds across the car.
It was impossible to sleep in the Silver Meteor, because the beds were crosswise and the ride was rough.
All night we were getting bounced — rocked this way and that.
Although that was ‘50s equipment — old.
Every switch and grade-crossing felt like impending derailment. —Into the lineside shrubbery! Get rescued by emergency workers with the “Jaws-of-life.”
The ride was still rough with Auto-Train, but the cars rode better since they were new.
Cramped quarters, but acceptable sleeping.
Auto-Train runs all night and gets to Florida the next day.
Plus your car goes with ya, so it awaits.
But nowhere near as fast as AirTran®.
On the plane about 7 a.m.; Orlando about noon.


1959 Ferrari 250GT LWB California Spyder.

—The October entry of my Oxman Legendary Sportscar Calendar is a yellow 1959 Ferrari 250GT LWB California Spyder.
“LWB” stands for Long-Wheelbase. “Spyder” is the Italian name for a sportscar convertible.
Apparently Oxman considered the car to be beautiful, enough to be it’s ad depiction for the 2009 sportscar calendar, but I don’t think so.
To me, the best-looking Ferrari of all time is the 275GTB/4 coupe pictured below.
Photo by the so-called “old
guy” with the dreaded and utterly
reprehensible Nikon D100 camera.
Ferrari 275GTB/4.
This car could probably get a million dollars at auction — maybe more.
The only other car that’s close is the “Lusso,” a car once owned by actor Steve McQueen.
In fact, the car pictured is McQueen’s car.
It was restored and was my May 2009 Legendary Sportscar Calendar entry.
Unfortunately, it’s a rather turgid color. I almost used a picture of another Lusso that looked better because it was red.
But it has a fatuous dork in the picture.
McQueen’s Lusso.
To me, the Lusso would have been a better calendar promo than the California pictured, but the California is strident yellow — and an open car.
The California looks pretty good from the rear; but that front-end is as plain as a well-used bar of Zest®.

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