Extreme “Adventure-Tour”
Passing coal extra approaching Lilly. (Photo by BobbaLew)
We have so many errands and appointments it’s become a rat-race.
We have to maintain a printed calendar-schedule to avoid conflicts.
Conflicts still occur, and we have to reschedule things.
It’s a matter of priorities.
New medical appointments scotch previous lesser appointments.
I suppose the number of errands is the same as when we worked. But the number of medical appointments doubled.
Our life is logistics, connecting errands and appointments in the same direction, walking the dog, mowing lawn, and working out at the YMCA.
It runs us ragged. So much to do, and never enough time.
“Will this be a rough week?” we ask.
Infusion Tuesday, doctor appointment Thursday, haircut Wednesday, Lowes sometime. The haircut scotches the YMCA.
I need the YMCA to stay alive — blast away on the cardio trainers, and strength and balance training.
All to keep up with our dog,who is extremely high-energy.
So a surgical-strike to the Mighty Curve is a vacation from retirement, even at only two and a half days.
Down Thursday, chase trains Friday, back home Saturday.
“This trip is so short any more, I miss things,” my wife said.
“Well it’s still a drag,” I said.
We were in the infamous Foy Ave. Sunoco in Williamsport; a potty-break — half-way.
About five hours portal-to-portal, 250 miles from our garage to Tunnel Inn.
Tunnel Inn, in Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin”) is the bed-and-breakfast we stay at in the Altoona (“al-TUNE-uh”), PA, area.
It used to be the old Gallitzin town offices and library.
It was built by the Pennsylvania Railroad in 1905, and is brick and rather substantial.
It was converted to a bed-and-breakfast when Gallitzin built new town offices.
Its advantage for railfans like me — also its marketing ploy — is that it's right beside Tracks Two and Three.
It’s right next to the old Pennsy tunnels through the summit of the Alleghenies.
Trains are blowing past all the time.
Track Three is westbound, and Two can be either way. —Track One is not visible; it’s on the other side of town, using New Portage Tunnel. Tunnel Inn also has a covered viewing deck behind its building, plus floodlights to illuminate trains approaching or leaving the tunnels in the dark.
First we went to the Mighty Curve, after setting up camp at Tunnel Inn, arriving at the Curve about 4:45 p.m.
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I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child. —I’ve been there hundreds of times.
“Any idea when the westbound Amtrak Pennsylvanian will pass?” a father asked. It was 5:15.
“About 5:30, I think,” I said; “if it’s on-time.”
A few minutes passed.
“Norfolk Southern milepost 2-4-0-point-7, Track Two, no defects.”
“I think this is it,” I said.
It was 5:22.
The Pennsylvanian hove into view; PRAMP; PRAMP; PRAMP; PRAMP!
“I can’t believe I actually nailed that thing,” I said to the guy later.
Later I was told 5:06 at Altoona.
The idea was to chase trains around the Allegheny crossing with Phil Faudi (”FOW-dee;” as in “wow”).
Faudi is the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, who supplies all-day train-chases for $125. —I did one two years ago, alone, and it blew my mind.
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 lineside defect-detectors fire off.
He knows each train by symbol, and 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 let Phil do the monitoring. I have a scanner myself, but leave it behind.
Phil knows every train on the scanner, where it is, and how long it will take to beat it to a prime photo location.
Faudi calls his train-chases “Adventure-Tours.”
And that’s what this was; more so than any previous tour — this was tour number four.
No Trespassing. (Photo by BobbaLew)
—“Hey look at that,” my wife said after clambering up a brush-infested embankment back to the road.
“A No-Trespassing sign.”
We hadn’t seen it going in.
It was also new. We’d been there before.
—“Well, the car is still there,” Faudi said, after our long hike back from where Pennsy built a stone viaduct over Conemaugh (“KONE-uh-MAW”) River, along the “path of the Johnstown Flood,” a walking-trail.
“There’s a no-parking sign there,” he said.
Sure enough; “No parking for trail use. Violators will be towed.”
“Makes a lotta sense,” my wife observed.
“What are we supposed to do? Park over in South Fork, and then hike the three miles to the trail-head?”
—Our grandest adventure was to on top of the eastern portal of Pennsy’s old Allegheny Tunnel.
We had hiked down a trail barely wide enough for a four-wheeler ATV, ending up on the hillside atop the tunnel-mouth.
“I bet we can get down to that tunnel-mouth,” Faudi said. “All we hafta do is descend that weedy embankment.”
“Let’s try it,” I said. Anything for a good photograph.
At least half of the descent was sit-and-slide.
Three 66-year-old geezers in pursuit of a fabulous railroad picture; Faudi the rabbit, my wife second, and me the caboose.
I also had my camera around my neck.
Faudi was carrying my lens-bag, and my wife my rifle-mount for my telephoto lens. I needed neither.
Ya gotta be a railfan. (Photo by BobbaLew)
We made it, and I garnered two photographs.
Next was get back up the embankment.
Faudi ascended first; the second train was coming.
Faudi is far more stable than me, but getting back up was a struggle for him.
He also used our same route down, which included the sit-and-slide segment.
Last train photographed, we started back up, my wife first, but by a slightly different route, avoiding the sit-and-slide.
I was also carrying my camera, which I had to hand over to Faudi on top.
—Our final adventure was Bennington Curve, near the top of the railroad’s ascent of the mountains.
“I’ve never driven down here before,” Faudi said, as we descended a closed-in twisting Jeep-track, in his baby-blue Front-Wheel-Drive Buick, a passenger sedan.
“I sure hope no one’s coming the other way,” he said.
“Is this road even legal?” my wife asked.
“It’s on the maps,” I said.
“Mike” (the proprietor of Tunnel Inn, very much a railfan) “brings guests down this road all the time,” Faudi said.
We finally got to Bennington, but a large black Ford pickup was parked there, railfan ensconced in a lawnchair.
He probably came down the same trail as us; a miracle.
His position was maybe 15-20 feet above track-level, but “five hours earlier, the light woulda been right,” Faudi said. “Now it’s not.”
We descended a little farther, down to track-level inside Bennington.
“Look at that ballast,” Faudi said. “At least four feet, maybe five.”
Amtrak’s westbound Pennsylvanian was coming.
Pennsylvanian at Bennington. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
“Did you get all five cars?” Faudi asked.
”First three,” I said. I had my lens at 24 mm, the widest it would go.
I also have a wide-angle lens, but it would have rendered too much sky and foreground.
On the way back up the road, CLUNK! “Didn’t see that one,” Faudi said. (A rock.)
Snippets
—1) Conemaugh Viaduct is two rocky promontories about 50-60 feet above the tracks.
Easiest is the higher promontory, but shrubbery blocks the viaduct.
“You said something about a crevasse to get to that lower promontory,” I said.
“Let’s try it.”
Down into the crevasse I went; I retrieved my camera as I walked out onto the lower promontory.
At the Viaduct. (Photo by BobbaLew)
“This is the better shot,” I said.
—2) “If we use this spot, I think we can beat” (whatever), said Faudi.
“But it’s private property. I always ask permission.
I think we’re in luck; I see two cars.”
Barking dogs welcomed us, but the owner was out front.
“This land goes back before the railroad,” Faudi said. “It’s on both sides of the railroad.
The railroad agreed to build and maintain this access bridge for the property-owners.
I only take people here I think won’t abuse it. It’s a private bridge.”
From the private bridge. (Photo by BobbaLew)
“Which is why I’ve never been here,” I said.
“The family had to sue Norfolk Southern to get them to continue to maintain this bridge,” Faudi said.
“And they won.”
—3) We went to what I call the “five-tracks” site.
It’s where PA State Route 53 crosses the old Pennsy east of Cresson (“KRESS-in”).
It’s at the top of The Hill, the final assault on Pennsy’s tunnels in Gallitzin.
The two tracks to the left are the original Pennsy — those at right are also Pennsy, but on the grade of the New Portage railroad.
The New Portage Railroad was a modification of the Pennsylvania Public Works System, a combination canal and railroad, publicly funded, that was a response to New York’s fabulously successful Erie Canal.
It was a combination canal and railroad, because there was no way a canal could breach the Allegheny mountains.
At first the railroad on the Public Works System used inclined planes.
In the early 1800s grading was not up to easily breaching the Alleghenies.
The canal packets would get transloaded into railroad flatcars, which got pulled up the planes with stationary steam-engines cranking ropes.
The system was so cumbersome and slow, the State did a new portage railroad, which also included a tunnel at Gallitzin. —No more inclined planes.
But the entire Public Works System became moribund; made so by the cross-state Pennsylvania Railroad — which was founded because the Public Works System was so inefficient.
Private capital in Philadelphia wanted better than the Public Works System.
The Public Works System, which pretty much paralleled Pennsy, was sold for a song to Pennsy.
There was that New Portage Tunnel next to Pennsy at Gallitzin, so Pennsy incorporated it. But they had to ramp up to it on the eastern side; the dreaded Slide, 2.36% — 2.36 feet up for every 100 feet forward.
That’s Track One; eastward, down.
But steep enough to invite runaways.
The three tracks at right are on the grade of the New Portage Railroad; aimed at New Portage tunnel.
The track at right is “Main 8;” it’s mainly used for storage.
The hoppers on it were a coal-extra from a tipple in Portage; they were left in Main-8.
About six creaky railfans were at the five-tracks site.
“I wonder where that coal is headed?” one asked.
“No idea,” said another.
“Germany,” I piped up.
“That coal’s from the tipple in Portage,” said Faudi; “it’s bound for Germany.”
We left, and headed for Gallitzin, but Faudi reappeared and said we could beat a train to five-tracks.
Back in the Buick.
The six creaky railfans had left and were getting back in their car.
We had the place to ourselves.
Westbound at five-tracks. (Photo by BobbaLew)
“Too bad them guys were leaving,” I said.
The train came about a minute after we arrived.
“Sometimes we hafta be unsociable,” Faudi said.
“A better picture than at Gallitzin,” I said. “It was them hopper-cars.”
—4) Pennsy’s eastern tunnel-portal is almost right next to the New Portage tunnel exit.
Although New Portage is slightly higher, allowing an underpass from the old New Portage alignment to the original Pennsy alignment.
(Pennsy converted the New Portage alignment into additional trackage over the Alleghenies; its Muleshoe line [similar to “Horseshoe”]. —The Muleshoe has since been torn up and abandoned, and partially obliterated.)
Trains down The Hill, using Track One through New Portage and The Slide, do a full-stop brake-test just past the tunnel-exit.
This puts one-half of the train downhill, and the other half up.
Any helpers on the rear only have to shove half the train on restart.
We hiked to the overpass — a train was coming toward New Portage on Track One.
I was encouraged to take a picture of it as it exited New Portage tunnel.
But there was a trackside box in the way.
“Hey Phil,” I said. “What if I go up past that box?”
“This is a sensitive area,” Phil said.
“If Norfolk Southern Railroad Police bother me I wanna say we never crossed the tracks.”
Going past the box wasn’t crossing the tracks, but was right next to them.
I didn’t go there.
Downhill on The Slide. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
I shot the locomotives as they passed.
I don’t wanna risk having future railfans shunted away.
I also wanna be able to return.
—5) At The Slide overpass over the New Portage alignment it was suggested that a good shot was taken off the bridge embankment.
To do so meant climbing the embankment, which started about four feet above the ground.
“How do I get up on this?” I thought.
“Well, there’s a ledge here at the bottom, and a second ledge about half-way up.”
I climbed them, and started up the embankment — no camera.
“This is the best shot,” I said; “but I need morning light, and an eastbound on Track Two.”
Next time, perhaps.
—6) Our train-chase would continue after supper.
“It’s June,” Faudi said. “The sun sets about 8:30.
We can continue, no charge.”
“Obviously Faudi isn’t in it for the money,” my wife observed. “He just likes chasing trains.”
“Yeah,” I thought. “A man after my own heart. A true train-junkie.”
Faudi mentioned Trains Magazine; “I been a subscriber since about 1963,” I stated.
“It was mainly David P. Morgan, their editor, and a junkie just like me.
And he wrote extraordinarily. Depicting the same sorta stuff I appreciate.
The efficacy of flanged-wheel on steel rail, and the appeal of ‘throttle-to-the-roof,’ especially steam-locomotion.”
We agreed to meet at the 17th St. bridge in Altoona about 7:15.
17th St. is the main drag west into Altoona from a nearby Interstate.
It crosses the old Pennsy tracks on a bridge.
Altoona was a main marshaling yard for Pennsy, also where the railroad had maintenance and locomotive erection shops.
Altoona is still an important point on the railroad. It’s where helper-units are attached to attack The Hill.
It’s also where helpers get taken off after descending.
Hard by the 17th St. bridge is “Alto” tower, which controls just about everything in Altoona — everything by radio; 160.8.
Alto has been around a long time. It’s been in same building since 1909.
First would be supper.
Faudi was going to treat his wife to pizza at a restaurant in Altoona.
It would give us a chance to hit Cresson Springs Family Restaurant, where I get their Philly Cheese-Steak sandwich, a Curve-trip tradition.
We drove directly to Altoona after Cresson Springs, and first would be our attempt to park therein.
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| HUH? |
Most street parking was “Police Business Only,” or something similar, but we finally found a spot in the shadow of the strange sign pictured.
The sign was completely unfathomable, and we both have college degrees.
My wife suggested it was boilerplate to cover some miscreant moving his car two feet within a parking-spot every two hours........
We found Faudi, who had parked in a 30-minute parking-zone on a side-street.
We moved to that, for fear of misinterpreting their sign, which seemed to be a catch-all for the Police Dept. — a Catch-22.
Up on the 17th St. bridge we walked.
Alto in twilight. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
The picture is a duplication of a view Faudi took years ago with his video-camera; although at night.
The race was on. The sun was quickly descending toward a mountain ridge.
It set before I took the picture.
But it was still pretty light, so my camera snagged the picture.
Addendum
—A) As is common, other railfans were at Tunnel Inn; particularly two dudes from west of Buffalo.
Both appeared to be in their 40s.
They had the handicap suite downstairs, which has two king-size beds.
We were all sitting together on the deck in the dark.
“Shameless plug,” I said. “If you’re a railfan, do the Faudi gig — it blew my mind.”
“I ain’t payin’ no money to get shown places I know about already,” a dude shouted.
“We been comin’ here since the ‘60s!”
Lessee, my first visit was in 1968.
Back then Horseshoe Curve was still four tracks, and Muleshoe was still in existence.
I could have argued back, but why bother?
It’s different since my stroke, which was in 1993.
My speech-center is compromised, so that I can’t carry on a conversation that well, particularly an argument.
Bellowing finished, the dude lit a foul-smelling stogie, and poured a tumbler of Jack Daniel's.
I could have mentioned that -a) Faudi knows every train-symbol, and -b) how long it will take to drive to a prime viewing-spot — i.e. if there’s time to beat it.
Worse yet I coulda said “HEX-KYOOZE ME; perish-the-thought I had the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to suggest anything to a know-it-all.”
I used to do that driving bus.
But that was before the stroke; like when I could talk, and parry blowhards.
I did what I always do; I shut down.
It’s what I do with my all-knowing brother.
There’s no sense arguing with a know-it-all.
We left the deck — couldn’t stand the smoke.
Next day we’re with Faudi at the private bridge.
“Ask them guys if they know about this bridge.....” Faudi said.
Same thing at Bennington Curve.
(They probably know about it — Bennington Curve is rather popular — but not where we were.)
—B) At the end of this month, June 25-28, the National Railway Historical Society (NRHS) holds its annual convention in nearby Scranton, PA.
A number of rail excursions are planned, including some with steam-locomotives.
I considered attending, but then decided I’d rather chase trains with Faudi, than be stuck in some fetid railcar with dysfunctional air-conditioning out in the middle of nowhere with no clue as to what’s happening.
I’ve had it happen.
Railfan excursion out of Buffalo, and the steam-locomotive ran out of coal.
Back in Buffalo at 3 a.m., behind rescue diesels.
It was awful.
With Faudi it’s railfan overload.
—C) We took this here laptop to Tunnel Inn. It can do wireless Internet.
Tunnel Inn is a hot-spot.
Automatic sign-up; my ‘pyooter found Tunnel Inn’s wireless Internet.
It needed a password.
We cranked in one that was apparently old; what Tunnel Inn replaced.
Into the ozone; no Internet.
Getting it activated was a hairball — we kept failing continually.
We finally gave up — no Internet.
Tried again the morning we were to leave.
Tried various things, and got it.
On the Tunnel Inn wireless network at last.
Too late though.
Not that I cared — doing anything on this laptop was bog-slow.
I had taken along my auxiliary keyboard and mouse, which I use to do anything here at home.
But there was no space to set them up. I had to use the laptop keyboard and touch-pad.
Internet would have allowed me to post a blog, but I couldn’t do that with no Internet.
All I could do was key stuff in, and that was bog-slow.
posted by BobbaLew at 2:11 PM
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