Monthly Calendar Report for February, 2010

The calendar of my own train-photos is still pretty good, but it’s the weakest shot of the calendar.
Actually, all my calendar-shots are pretty good this month, even my booby prize.
But I never really liked ‘36 Fords much.


Uphill on Track One through Gallitzin, PA (“guh-LIT-zin”) toward New Portage Tunnel. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

—The February 2010 entry of my own calendar is an eastbound train up the grade on Track One past AR Tower, which is closed.
The old Pennsy had three tracks over the summit of the Alleghenies, through three tunnels.
Originally they only had two tracks through one tunnel, “Allegheny” at Gallitzin.
As the size of equipment grew, Allegheny became restrictive at two tracks, so was re-laid as only one track.
The Pennsylvania Public Works System built new railroad to avoid its inclined planes — it included its own tunnel under the Alleghenies near Gallitzin; New Portage, but higher up than the Pennsy tunnel.
Eventually Pennsy got the entire Pennsylvania Public Works System, which it had put out of business, for a song, including its New Portage tunnel.
Pennsy aligned trackage over the summit to take advantage of New Portage tunnel, but had to ramp up to and down from it.
Down from New Portage on the eastern slope is “The Slide;” 2.36%, a 2.36 foot drop for every 100 feet forward — not too bad, but bad enough.
Years ago (1947) a passenger-train ran away on The Slide. It derailed and crashed beyond it when its brakes failed, killing 21.
With New Portage and Allegheny, Pennsy now had two tracks through the summit.
Pennsy eventually built a third tunnel in 1912, “Gallitzin,” right next to Allegheny.
Wrecked a building in Gallitzin, and killed a resident with rocks flying from a blast.
It’s very restrictive, and now abandoned.
The state contributed to expanding Allegheny a few years ago, so it could clear double-stacks.
Allegheny was also widened to allow back to two tracks. Doing so meant Gallitzin tunnel could be abandoned.
New Portage was also expanded to clear double-stacks, mainly by lowering the tunnel floor. —New Portage also had two tracks when first built.
The state helped because without double-stacks, Philadelphia was withering compared to other east-coast ports.
At that time the railroad operator was Conrail, which succeeded Penn-Central, the merger of Pennsy and New York Central that went bankrupt. Now it’s Norfolk Southern, a merger of Norfolk & Western and Southern Railway. Norfolk Southern purchased many of the ex-Pennsy lines when Conrail sold.
The train pictured is slowly grinding eastbound up the western slope of the Alleghenies on Track One toward New Portage tunnel.
It’s a difficult shot because it’s through a hole in chain-link fence — the hole about two inches in diameter.
I had to crop out fencing on the left side.
Track One is through New Portage; Two and Three through the expanded Allegheny. Three used to go through Gallitzin.
New Portage is about a half-mile from Allegheny; the other side of town.
You can hear a train climbing Track One, but can’t see it from Two and Three.
AR is where a loop track from Two and Three merged into One. One is eastbound, Three westbound, and Two can be either way.
Heavy freights often take Two down the eastern slope to avoid The Slide.
The loop was for helpers up the eastern slope to go back down One to Altoona.
The loop still exists, and sees use occasionally.
But most of the time the helpers go right on by, often all the way down to Pittsburgh, since they can add dynamic braking.
It’s my weakest picture, although others are also weak.
My friend Phil Faudi, the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, PA, who supplies all-day train-chases for $125 (I’ve done two), suggests three tracks isn’t enough for the coming deluge of traffic when the recession subsides.
It’s already a bottleneck.
Gallitzin may have to be enlarged and reopened.


Spitfire. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is fabulous, the Supermarine Spitfire.
The Supermarine Spitfire is the BEST airplane fielded by the British in WWII.
Not as good as a Mustang, but almost.
It used a 1,478 horsepower version of the water-cooled Merlin V12, earlier than the Mustang, which was at 1,695 horsepower.
The Mustang Merlin was made by Packard; the Spitfire Merlin by Rolls-Royce. —The Merlin engine was originally developed by Rolls-Royce.
It was the consummate British hot-rod — developed independent of British military requirements, but a superior airplane.
If I am right, it’s a development of a float-equipped racing seaplane; fast and extremely maneuverable.
It was so good the British rewrote their military fighter-plane requirements to accommodate it.
It was the old fighter-plane waazoo; speed and maneuverability triumph.
Kind of like the P38 Lightning in America — an airplane that didn’t meet single-engine fighter-plane requirements, but was superior.
A Spitfire could trump anything the Luftwaffe threw at it, but supposedly wasn’t the airplane that won the Battle of Britain.
That was the Hawker Hurricane. (Pictured at left.)
(That Hurricane picture is not Makanna. You can tell; it’s not very dramatic.
My Makanna Hurricane picture is 2008; it’s gone.)

Pennsylvania Railroad Alco RS11s south toward Morrisville, PA on the old Bel-Del Division of the Pennsy in Jersey. (Photo by Martin Zak©.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black and white All-Pennsy Calendar is a sterling example of a cardinal rule of artistic photography.
Namely, every photograph needs a foreground.
In this case the foreground is the crossbucks — the railroad-crossing sign.
The locomotives aren’t that photogenic. But those crossbucks make it a great picture, almost good enough to be my winner.
The locomotives are RS-11s, Alco’s DL-701, Alco’s successor to their highly successful RS-3 series. They were rated at 1,800 horsepower, and used a turbocharged V12 engine, their 251B series.
They accelerated faster than their competition (the EMD GP9), generated higher tractive effort, and used less fuel.
The RS-11 was also quite versatile, and was used in general freight service, which we see here.

Photo by BobbaLew.

Pennsy had 38, and I managed to snag a couple in the yards at Wilmington, DE about 1959.
My guess is these RS-11s were used down the Delmarva Peninsula, which wasn’t electrified.
At that time Pennsy was still using electrified freight engines, where applicable.
The P5 and P5a, and later the E-44 (see below).
Some GG1s ("Gee-Gee-One") were regeared down for freight service.
The RS-11 first hit the market in 1956.
It did fairly well, but EMD units did better; e.g. the GP9.
The RS11s were the next step up in the Alco RS series; first the RS1, then the RS2, and finally the RS3.
The road-switcher RS concept (the RS1) debuted in 1941.
The Bel-Del Division is a bucolic spur that runs up the Delaware River from Trenton, NJ.
It was very scenic, and therefore quite moribund — didn’t generate much freight.
It paralleled much of the Delaware & Raritan Canal along the Delaware River.
It’s been partially abandoned, Trenton up to Milford. Milford up to Phillipsburg is a shortline, but Phillipsburg up to Belvidere is still a viable class-one railroad, Norfolk Southern.
The train pictured is southbound from Phillipsburg to Morrisville, PA, via Trenton.
Phillipsburg is apparently fairly busy, and seems to have a yard, of sorts.
I can imagine a train of cars stacking up for these locomotives to take down to Morrisville, which is across the river in PA from Trenton, and junctions with the old Pennsy electrified line from New York City to Philadelphia.
It’s also where an electrified freight bypass around Philadelphia to Harrisburg started.

A Pennsy E44 on the freight-line parallel to the lower Susquehanna River. (Photo by Bill Janssen.)

—The February 2010 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is a General Electric E44.
The E44 was only built for Pennsy, out of its need to rectify the AC delivered by its catenary (“KAT-in-air-eee;” overhead trolley-wire).
Pennsy’s electrification is Alternating Current. Only AC could transmit over the long distances it had to travel.
But diesel-locomotive traction-motors are 600-volt Direct Current. Trolley lines were usually Direct Current too, as was New York Central’s third-rail electrification into New York City.
Pennsy’s Hudson tunnels were third-rail Direct Current at first, but were switched to overhead AC wiring with the coming of Alternating Current locomotives.
Unfortunately, AC locomotives won’t work on DC, nor will DC traction-motors run on AC.
Pennsy went whole-hog with AC electrification.
The fabulous GG1 (“Gee-Gee-One”) locomotive was AC.
As were many of their earlier electric locomotives, and the MP54 commuter cars.
By the ‘50s, Pennsy’s electric freight locomotives, the P5 and P5a, which had been downgraded from passenger service by the GG1, were old and worn out.
Pennsy began experimenting with replacements, some rectified, some not, all cab-units, like diesel cab-units.

Photo by BobbaLew.

An E2b at Wilmington Shops about 1960.

The E2b was straight AC, built by General Electric, and could be MU-ed with a P5.
The locomotive pictured at left is an E2b.
Baldwin-Westinghouse built a three-truck E3; three four-wheel trucks on a common frame — one truck was in the center where the fuel-tank usually was on a diesel.
It used ignitron rectification.
Baldwin also built a two-truck E2c, also rectified, with two three-axle trucks.
The E44 came after Virginian Railway, and buyer New Haven, did well with Virginian’s E33 rectified electric locomotive, 3,300 horsepower, built by General Electric.
The E44 came in two iterations.
The first 60 used ignitron rectification, but the final six used newly developed silicon diode rectification, much more rugged and reliable.
Eventually many E44s were converted to silicon diode rectification.
Rectification meant the E44 could use the traction-motors used in diesels.
A new traction-motor became available, which allowed uprating the locomotive from 4,400 horsepower to 5,000.
Efficient as it was, maintenance of the overhead catenary was time-consuming and costly.
Plus a crash could take down wire disabling a segment.
Eventually the freight lines were deenergized, and wiring removed.
I knew the locomotives would wear out, but I thought that wire was forever.
All that remains is the line-side poles. —It’s depressing.
I bet this freight line pictured, if it even exists at all, isn’t wired.


Second 95, a southbound time freight, resumes after making a setoff at Waynesboro. (Photo by O. Winston Link.)

—The February 2010 entry of my O. Winston Link "Steam and Steel" calendar is better than last month.
Not that bad, really.
I almost made it my winner, but my Ghosts warbirds calendar was more dramatic.
The locomotive is Y6 #2150, a 2-8-8-2 compound articulated, compound meaning spent steam from the rear cylinders powers the front cylinders.
Compounding was very popular around the turn of the century, but it didn’t work out well.
Usually railroads that operated compound articulateds ended up converting their compounds to “simple;” the single boiler powering all four cylinder-sets directly.
Railroads even tried compounding in non-articulated steam locomotives. Cylinders powered inside axle cranks, often a third cylinder, sometimes a third and fourth.
Sometimes such locomotives were simple, with the boiler powering all cylinders directly.
But the valve-gear, being inside, was so hard to work on the railroads gave up.
At least with a compound articulated, its valve-gear was accessible.
It’s just that compounds didn’t work very well.
Yet Norfolk & Western made it work.
Far as I know, the Y6 was the only successful compound.
On Norfolk & Western, regularly scheduled freight trains were called “time freights.”
Norfolk & Western mainly shipped coal, usually in “extra” coal trains.
When a string of loaded hopper-cars came together, it was dragged somewhere as an “extra.”
Empty hoppers were also moved as “extra.”
Often time freights got loaded out with coal cars.
Second 95, a time freight, has stopped at Waynesboro to set out cars.
Setout completed, it resumes in the dark past Waynesboro depot.
Station-Agent F.C. Amentrout is inside.


1971 Dodge Super Bee. (Photo by David Newhardt.)

—The February 2010 entry of my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar is a 1971 Dodge Super Bee.
Sorry; not bad, but not the best.

A ‘69 Dodge Charger.

Best was the ‘69 Dodge Charger (pictured at left), a gorgeous car.
The Super Bee was a response to the phenomenally successful Plymouth RoadRunner, a great concept, startlingly incredible performance on the cheap.
Meld a four-speed floor-shift with a high-performance 383 Wedge in an el-cheapo Plymouth.
Sold like hotcakes; so successful all the other manufacturers had to scramble.
The Pontiac G-T-O was another great concept, but cost megabucks compared to a RoadRunner.
A RoadRunner wasn’t as fast as the super cars, but it was fast enough.
Cost-wise it was within range of the average joe.

A ‘69 RoadRunner.

My neighbor in Rochester had one; but it was dark green with TorqueFlite automatic tranny.
Sadly it got totaled; rammed by a drunk while parked.
The RoadRunner pictured has a special hood-scoop I’ve never seen before; i.e. it ain’t stock.
Beyond that a RoadRunner is quite large; enough sheet metal for a pickup truck.
But they went like stink, and sold a lot.
Mind-bending performance on the cheap. Usually enough to beat most hot-rodded Small-Block Chevys in street racing.
Only the mega-rich could afford a full-bore muscle-car; e.g. a 454 Chevelle, or a G-T-O Judge.
But the average joe wasn’t racing full-bore muscle-cars. He was racing tricked-out Small-Block Chevys. A RoadRunner was comparable.
Plus it was a street-racer you bought ready-to-race from the dealer — a Small-Block Chevy had to be hot-rodded. (E.g. you had to install a Duntov cam.)
What’s most laughable about that Super Bee is that el-cheapo pop-hood scoop that looks like it was fashioned from Coke cans.
It’s probably better than that, but looks like a cheap-shot.
Cut a hole in the hood, and install this cheap stamping. —And make it pop up by lack of engine vacuum; i.e. when the gas-pedal is floored.


1936 Ford Three-Window Coupe.

—The February 2010 entry of my Oxman Hot-Rod Calendar is a 1936 Ford Three-Window coupe; my boobie-prize.
Actually, it’s not that bad as a picture — I just don’t like ‘36 Fords.
And apparently a three-window coupe is rare — I haven’t seen many.
Who knows when Ford stopped making three-window coupes; the last I could find with a cursory Google search was 1937.

A ‘39 Ford five-window coupe.

At left is a ‘39 Ford five-window DeLuxe coupe — I don’t think Ford was making three-windows by then.
A five-window has small windows behind the doorposts. A three-window doesn’t.
The ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes are gorgeous.
Old Henry thought styling was frivolous — what mattered was function.
That being the case, Ford did not have a huge styling section like General Motors.
Yet despite that Old Henry brought some of the finest looking cars ever to market; e.g. the Model A, the ‘32 Ford, the ‘34, and the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes.
The head of Ford styling was Eugene T. “Bob” Gregorie, and it was just a small styling section, but had the backing of Henry’s son Edsel Ford.
It was Edsel that brought Ford Motor Company beyond Old Henry, to become a viable auto manufacturer.
Key to making the ‘32 Ford the great step forward it was, was moving the gas-tank from the cowl to the rear of the car.
No longer was gasoline trickling from cowl tank to engine by gravity; it was now moving by fuel-pump.
There also was the Flat-head V8 motor introduced in the ‘32 model-year.
Old Henry had made a V8 available to the masses.
The car pictured probably had a Flat-head at first; Flat-head being a side-valve engine, like a Briggs & Stratton lawnmower engine (though water-cooled).
It’s valving was in the engine block; not overhead in the cylinder heads.
The Flat-head Ford V8 lasted through the 1953 model year, and was snappy and cheap enough to father hot-rodding.
Yet the ‘39-‘40 Fords aren’t the best-looking coupes of that era.

The first Stone-Woods-Cook Willys, an actual Willys.

That would be the ‘41 Willys; same styling, but a three-window, and better yet a one-piece windshield.
Very basic and raw-looking. No adornment, but the same graceful lines as the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupes.
It has the same double rear-window as the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupe, but lacks the styling complication of -a) a two-piece windshield, and -b) a five-window design.
The ‘41 Willys coupe was lighter than the ‘39-‘40 Ford coupe, though about as aerodynamic.
Which is why Stone-Woods started racing it.
Their first racer was an actual Willys, but then the powers-that-be that ran drag-racing permitted fiberglass reproduction bodies, which allowed Stone/Woods to build a racer much lighter.
That would be “Swindler II,” pictured below, essentially a reproduction fiberglass ‘41 Willys body plopped on a dragster chassis.
Its front-end was tube solid, same as a dragster, and it had no radiator.
Dragsters don’t either. They can only run a few minutes.
It was so fast it needed a drag chute just like a dragster.
If I were to build a hot-rod, it would be based on the ‘41 Willys coupe.
Best-looking hot-rod ever.


Swindler II.