Another Faudi train-chase
(“FOW-dee;” as in “wow”)
25Z south toward the Lilly overpass. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
First time at the infamous Station-Inn in Cresson, PA (“KRESS-in”), nine railroad miles from the Mighty Curve.
The “Mighty Curve” (Horseshoe Curve), west of Altoona (“al-TUNE-uh”), PA, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is now a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use.
I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child. —I’ve been there hundreds of times, since it’s only about five hours away.
Station-Inn is a bed-and-breakfast that caters to railfans, but as such is rather rudimentary.
“Martha Stewart doesn’t live here,” said a sign near the lobby.
No amenities to speak of; no TV in the rooms (no problem in our case), no refrigerator in the room, wi-fi only downstairs (supposedly, although I got it upstairs), and probably no air-conditioning.
Worst of all is single beds, abhorrent to people like us who have slept together since married, which is 43+ years ago.
Station-Inn is the old Callan House built in 1866, hard by the Pennsy Main through Cresson.
Although that railroad is now Norfolk Southern.
No matter, it’s a main railroad route from our nation’s interior.
Wait 25 minutes and you’ll see a train; often fewer minutes.
Sometimes the trains are fleeted; one after another.
And it’s three tracks — used to be four (the “Broad Way”)
Cresson is far up the western slope of the railroad’s crossing of the Allegheny Mountains.
In the early 1800s the Alleghenies were a barrier to west-east commerce, but the railroad conquered that.
Cresson was the location of Cresson Springs, a mountain health-spa (the “Mountain House”).
People used to take the railroad out from Pittsburgh and stay at Callan House.
Tunnel-Inn wins!
Tunnel-Inn is the bed-and-breakfast in nearby Gallitzin, PA (“guh-LIT-zin”) where we normally stay when in the Altoona area.
—Named that because it’s right at the west-facing entrances of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s tunnels under Allegheny summit.
It used to be the Gallitzin town offices and library built by the railroad in 1905.
When Gallitzin built new town offices, a railfan named Mike Kraynyak (“CRANE-yak”) bought it and converted it to a bed-and-breakfast.
He completely gutted and restored it; even sandblasted the exterior down to the original brick.
It has amenities Station-Inn lacks, mainly for us -1) wi-fi in our room; -2) a small refrigerator in our room;-3) a queen-size bed that can comfortably sleep two; and -4) air-conditioning.
Trains at Tunnel-Inn are more in-your-face than Station-Inn, where they are across-the-street.
But the heavy brick exterior of Tunnel-Inn keeps out the racket.
About all that wakes me is a train blowing its air-horn after a full-stop brake-test on Track Two before entering the tunnel, and descending The Hill.
(“The Hill” is the grades over the Allegheny mountains; up one side, and down the other.)
I’d always wanted to try Station-Inn, but the only reason this time was that Tunnel-Inn wasn’t open yet — as I understood it.
Kraynyak had a Valentine’s-Day winter special in the past, but not this year.
He has to come all the way from near Philadelphia.
We did the Valentine’s-Day special last February, and got some fabulous pictures.
Gallitzin was under 3-4 feet of snow that time. Poor Kraynyak was trying to clear his tiny parking-lot with only a snowblower.
We were hoping it would be like that this time, but it wasn’t. Just about all the snow was gone.
Temperatures would be into the 40s-50s, well above freezing.
Last year there was so much snow it was covering the ties.
We’d be chasing trains again with Phil Faudi.
Phil is the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, PA, who supplied all-day train-chases for $125. —I did my first two years ago, alone, and it blew my mind.
He called them “Adventure-Tours.”
Faudi would bring along his rail-scanner, tuned to 160.8, the Norfolk Southern operating channel, and he knew the whereabouts of every train, as the engineers called out the signals, and various lineside defect-detectors fired off.
He knew each train by symbol, and knew all the back-roads, and how long it took to get to various photo locations — and also what made a successful photo — lighting, drama, etc.
I’d let Phil do the monitoring. I have a scanner myself, but I left it behind.
Phil knew every train on the scanner, where it was, and how long it took to beat it to a prime photo location.
My first time was a slow day, yet we got 20 trains. Next Tour we got 30 trains in one nine-hour day.
Phil gave it up; fear of liability suits, and a really nice car he’s afraid he’d mess up.
Things would be pretty much the same as his paid tours. About the only difference is I’ll be the driver.
I don’t mind a bit. Phil knows way more than me. He’ll be telling me where to go next.
I have my druthers, which he went by in the past.
I suggested role-reversal, that Phil bring his camera.
But that wasn’t what he wanted to do.
He wanted to show me around like in the past, except this time I’m the car-parker. No more “You get out, Bob; and I’ll park over there.”
Like me, Phil is a railfan. I suppose his greatest thrill is seeing me freak out, and get fabulous pictures. —There also is him showing me how to do what he does.
This time my brother-from-Delaware’s only son, my nephew Tom Hughes, approaching 26, is driving out to join us.
Tom is also a railfan.
To my mind, the idea was to blow Tom’s mind, like Phil did me our first tour.
It won’t be hard. Tom is a railfan just like me.
I remember coming home from work one night, and there was Tom, utterly entranced by my train-videos.
At age five!
Any other kid that age would climb the wall in three minutes.
But not Tom.
Better yet is that Tom brings luck to a railfan. Stop near a railroad, and sooner-or-later a train shows up.
I think we were the only guests, or nearly.
The front-door was locked when we showed up; “no vacancy.”
I called an emergency number posted outside, but got the husband. “Sandy’s not here now (‘grumble’), but works there. I have no idea what you’re talking about. (‘Grumble’).”
I was about to give up and room in Altoona at Holiday-Inn Express, but Station-Inn was in my cellphone contacts.
So I tried that, and got the owner, who was inside the Inn, but in an office where he couldn’t hear us pounding on the door.
“I’ll be right there,” he said. He was, the front-door was unlocked, and we were let in.
He thought we were reserved to arrive the next day, but his computer corrected him.
The owner is the so-called “crazy old coot’ who set up Station-Inn.
“Ever see all them railfans out there taking pictures?” he’d ask his critics.
“Of course we do. They’re all over!”
“Do ya think they sleep in trees?” he’d ask.
So now Callan House is a bed-and-breakfast for railfans, and has been since 1994.
It’s rather rudimentary, but “my clientele is here to watch trains!”
And well they can.
Station-Inn is across the street from the old Pennsy main.
It has an open front porch from which you can watch the passing parade of trains.
We hadn’t been there three minutes and a train appeared; later two trains at once.
We’d been there about five hours, and during that time 20-30 trains passed.
Some were identifiable, like the infamous “trash-train,” and also the “ethanol-train,” solid tank-cars filled with ethanol, with only two safety cars at each end, in this case covered hoppers.
One behind the lead locomotives, and one ahead of the pushers.
The Hill often requires helpers, perhaps two units ahead of the lead power, and/or two units to push, sometimes four.
The railroad keeps a pool of helper-units in Cresson.
They are mainly used on The Hill, yet often go clear to Pittsburgh or Johnstown.
Helpers are not as necessary as they were previously.
Lead units are getting powerful enough to make The Hill unassisted.
Any more, the weight of the train determines if helpers are needed.
The idea is to get the train over the mountains quickly — and not have it stall.
Helper-units also add dynamic-braking descending hills.
With dynamic-braking the locomotive traction-motors are turned into generators, and the current generated is dissipated as heat in giant grids atop the locomotive.
It generates additional braking-action, but only at the locomotive.
Dynamic-braking can help hold back a train descending hills, and keep it from running away. (It’s happened.)
Dynamic-braking is also much easier to use. Previously retainers had to be set up on each car to keep brakes engaged.
A heavy train has momentum, and gravity can make it run away on even the slightest grade.
Every locomotive used on The Hill has dynamic-braking; once an option.
Amtrak’s eastbound “Pennsylvanian,” on Track Two through Lilly, PA. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Day Two: the great train-chase
I hadn’t planned to do this, but things started falling together.
There was a lot of snow on the ground, and it was still covering the ties of Finger Lakes Railway in nearby Canandaigua; even though the roads were clear.
So it looked like I might be able to match the photography I got last February.
Tunnel-Inn was closed, but Station-Inn had vacancy the times needed.
I invited Tom to came out expecting nothing, but he agreed.
Phil also seemed interested.
He had gone out along the railroad, but observed almost all the snow was gone.
“I’m always game to chase trains!” I responded; “even without the snow.”
Chasing trains with Phil is railfan overload.
Best of all was my nephew going to show.
Things were falling into place.
So we reserved at Station-Inn, and drove there.
But we were down to Spring conditions. Just about all the snow was gone.
And we had already hit just about every great photo-location. I’d be repeating previous shots, although perhaps with different light.
Beyond that, my nephew Tom was coming. The goal was to freak him out, much like Phil had done with me our first tour.
It wouldn’t be one of Phil’s “Adventure-Tours.”
Phil did the driving in the past, but this time it would be me.
If anything, I’m probably more conservative; although Phil is conservative himself — he isn’t frightening.
Breakfast at Station-Inn was semi-leaden pancakes prepared by “Chris,” eaten with others at a common table.
My blowhard brother-in-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, usually with ad-hominems and name-calling a la Rush Limbaugh, would love Chris. Chris is an obvious Harley-dude.
Big with grizzled features, a long-haired flowing white mane, and a Santa Claus beard.
But not fat and jolly like Santa Claus.
I’ve been compared to Santa myself — all my hair is white, and I have a beard. —But that’s a little off.
I’m not that fat, Chris even less so.
My brother would like Chris. He’s a macho Harley-dude who likes to eat.
Station-Inn is the hands-down winner for breakfast-food. Tunnel Inn is okay, but not hand-made breakfast at a table.
Phil walked in, and off we went.
First to the highway overpass over the tracks in Lilly, then down to South Fork.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, yet.
We got Amtrak’s eastbound Pennsylvanian on Track Two through Lilly next to a westbound passing on Track Three.
We also got that same westbound approaching the same overpass, as illustrated at the beginning.
We then drove down to South Fork, where I missed my first photo-opportunity. The train was appearing as I parked.
We then drove back north to Summerhill, just north of South Fork.
I parked the car, and we walked up on the overpass in Summerhill.
The signal-lights are always lit on the old Pennsy signal-bridge, and the eastbound targets are up high to be visible over the overpass.
227 westbound on Track Two at Summerhill. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Back down to South Fork, where I got different camera-angles. It was still morning light. The big curve only works in the afternoon.
11K westbound on Track Two (note the shared BNSF unit). (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Track Three, the normal westbound track, was now out-of-service for maintenance. Everything westbound was being sent Track Two, which can be either way.
We then walked out on a highway overpass at the north end of South Fork.
Coal from the South Fork Secondary was parked on a siding — you can see it in the picture (below).
21Q westbound on Track Two through South Fork (note the leased EMD unit). (Photo by BobbaLew.)
We then drove back to Cresson.
After Cresson we drove all the way north to Plummer’s Crossing, east of Tyrone, PA. It’s where Plummer’s Road crosses the railroad.
It’s also where the railroad turns east through a notch in the mountains.
I was hoping to snag a westbound at Plummer’s; it’s an attractive S-curve.
But nothing.
20V eastbound approaches Plummer’s Crossing. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
All I got was an eastbound stacker; straight-track approaching the crossing. But the lead unit was not wide-cab.
Clouds were also moving in.
We then drove down to McFarland’s Curve near Tipton, what I call “Six Targets.”
That’s because it has an old Pennsy signal-bridge with six targets, the maximum. All three tracks can be either way.
It’s my favorite location; primarily because that signal-bridge, silhouetted against the sky, without distraction, makes a great frame.
But it’s only a two-track railroad at that point, the controlled-siding (the closest track) is only a siding.
To get to McFarland’s is up a dirt-track. It was filled with icy slush.
My CR-V has All-Wheel-Drive, plus the high ground-clearance of an SUV, so up we went, slipping and sliding over rocky gravel.
It’s a dirt-track Faudi dare not try in his new Buick, for fear of bottoming something.
And without All-Wheel-Drive he might not make it.
22W east on the controlled-siding under “Six-Targets.” (Photo by BobbaLew.)
“Don’t go up on the embankment, Tom. Down here (at trackside) is where it works. That silhouettes the signal-bridge against the sky.”
One track was still outta-service, which was why a mainline train was on the controlled-siding.
We then drove down into Altoona, the 17th St. bridge near “Alto” tower (“Al-toe;” as in the name “Al”), and also Slope Interlocking and Brickyard Crossing.
Alto is the tower that operates the vast Altoona complex, although it only operates, not dispatches.
Westbound helpers are attached there, and there are numerous tracks.
Westbound trailer-van on Track Three through Altoona. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Slope Interlocking is where tracks eastbound into the Altoona yard begin; it used to be a tower location, but that tower was removed long ago.
It’s called “Slope” because that’s where The Hill begins.
“Brickyard” is a road-crossing next to an abandoned brick plant. It looks like that brick plant is gonna be demolished, in which case the name “Brickyard” becomes a misnomer.
The road that crosses is actually Porta Road, not “Brickyard.”
But “Brickyard” is what railfans have always called the crossing.
We took pictures at each location, but my ones at Slope were best.
This is despite my thinking Slope was sort of a waste.
It’s an overpass, but over straight track.
But I wanted Tom to be able to find Slope.
The front of Y94. (Two SD40-E helpers are leading.) (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Above (at Slope) is probably my best shot, but it’s only a grab-shot.
At Brickyard, where Tom has been before, we were passed by 10G eastbound on Track One, with a Virginia Railway Express (VRE) engine trailing the power.
10G east down The Hill at Brickyard Crossing, with a VRE engine dead-in-tow. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
The VRE locomotive had probably been overhauled, and was on its way back to Virginia.
We hit Slope a second time, and got a few more pictures.
23W westbound on Track Three, passing a stopped double-stack on Two for lack of railroad to continue. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
But by now our light was fading. I jacked the ISO up to 400 so I could continue shooting, but was down to 1/200th with the lens wide-open.
591 up The Hill at Slope. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
By now the headlight was reflecting on the lens; I had to take it out with the Photoshop Clone-tool.
Back to Alto one more time, but under the 17th St. bridge. I’ve never liked the location — a chainlink fence impinges. But you can stand off to the side, and minimize the fence.
But it was too late. It was probably already after 5 p.m., and getting dark. I was down to 1/100th wide-open, at 400 ISO.
So we gave up and left. (23 trains.)
Dinner-time.
Day Three: back to reality
—1) As always, the question is:
How much longer can I keep doing this?
We’re both 67.
The trip here is getting to be a drag, even though it’s only five hours, maybe 260 miles or so.
Both trips, here and back, were uneventful.
It used to be I had to sack out after a trip; nap on arrival, nap after getting home.
That seems to no longer be the case, although I mark off each way-marker.
Four-three-two more hours to go.
“Fort Roberdeau,” another 20-25 miles.
“Altoona, 45 miles.”
At least, distances on this trip are short, usually no more than 60 miles. “Williamsport, 50 miles;” “Mansfield, 40 miles;” “Corning, 38 miles;” “State College, 25 miles.”
Across New York state from home is about 75-80 miles, all country two-lanes.
Then it’s into Pennsylvania.
All roads across PA are four-lane expressway, 60-70 mph.
Only one section is intersections at grade, about six miles. But it’s four-lane.
I also do a shortcut that is two-lane.
It shortcuts a dog-leg.
Five hours is about my limit.
If it’s more, we share the driving, although even in the shotgun seat I’m still driving.
We split the driving so my wife gets the easy parts, while I get the difficult parts.
This is because she’s “automotively-challenged;” her ability to judge things is compromised — she gets overly nervous.
I can live with that. It took a while. On balance I accept that. She’s not frightening or worrisome.
When a car or truck is merging, I tell her if she needs to back off.
—2) I have my up days and down days.
This trip seemed to be up.
Some days I am utterly fagged-out working out at the YMCA Exercise-Gym.
It’s a struggle to keep going, although I usually can.
Other days I crush the exercise machines.
This trip wasn’t that, but close.
It used to be with Faudi I’d fag out about 4 p.m.
Chasing trains can be a rat-race, and Phil is the Energizer-Bunny.
But I keep going, or can now.
Phil and I have different walking speeds, me slower than him.
One time I had to run to catch up, but I still can.
—3) Will I do it again?
Probably.
Chasing trains is great fun, and with Phil you only wait a few minutes.
On my own, the wait might be a half-hour or more.
Trains are frequent on this line, but I’m not Phil.
—4) Can I do it myself?
Perhaps.
What I really know, and can understand, is defect-detector transmissions, and where those defect-detectors are.
Signal locations I’m getting the hang of, and the train-engineers call out the signal-aspects as they pass.
On the other hand, “Garble-hiss-mumble.....”
“Oh, that’s 20Q. He’s in the picture. He’s about five hours late. If we drive over to Pinecroft, we can beat him.”
“Great, Phil. To me that was static.”
We passed a train coming down The Hill on our way home.
We decided not to wait for it north of Altoona.
That train would change crews in Altoona, a long wait.
That’s knowledge gleaned from Phil.
—5) Back to Tunnel Inn next visit.
The fact Martha Stewart lives there is part of it, but mainly it’s their bed that will sleep two.
We’re in separate beds at Station-Inn: my wife wonders if I’m still breathing.
“I hope he’s all right; I can’t hear anything.”
At Tunnel Inn we just reach over, and the warm body is still there.
25Z south toward the Lilly overpass. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
First time at the infamous Station-Inn in Cresson, PA (“KRESS-in”), nine railroad miles from the Mighty Curve.
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I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child. —I’ve been there hundreds of times, since it’s only about five hours away.
Station-Inn is a bed-and-breakfast that caters to railfans, but as such is rather rudimentary.
“Martha Stewart doesn’t live here,” said a sign near the lobby.
No amenities to speak of; no TV in the rooms (no problem in our case), no refrigerator in the room, wi-fi only downstairs (supposedly, although I got it upstairs), and probably no air-conditioning.
Worst of all is single beds, abhorrent to people like us who have slept together since married, which is 43+ years ago.
Station-Inn is the old Callan House built in 1866, hard by the Pennsy Main through Cresson.
Although that railroad is now Norfolk Southern.
No matter, it’s a main railroad route from our nation’s interior.
Wait 25 minutes and you’ll see a train; often fewer minutes.
Sometimes the trains are fleeted; one after another.
And it’s three tracks — used to be four (the “Broad Way”)
Cresson is far up the western slope of the railroad’s crossing of the Allegheny Mountains.
In the early 1800s the Alleghenies were a barrier to west-east commerce, but the railroad conquered that.
Cresson was the location of Cresson Springs, a mountain health-spa (the “Mountain House”).
People used to take the railroad out from Pittsburgh and stay at Callan House.
Tunnel-Inn wins!
Tunnel-Inn is the bed-and-breakfast in nearby Gallitzin, PA (“guh-LIT-zin”) where we normally stay when in the Altoona area.
—Named that because it’s right at the west-facing entrances of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s tunnels under Allegheny summit.
It used to be the Gallitzin town offices and library built by the railroad in 1905.
When Gallitzin built new town offices, a railfan named Mike Kraynyak (“CRANE-yak”) bought it and converted it to a bed-and-breakfast.
He completely gutted and restored it; even sandblasted the exterior down to the original brick.
It has amenities Station-Inn lacks, mainly for us -1) wi-fi in our room; -2) a small refrigerator in our room;-3) a queen-size bed that can comfortably sleep two; and -4) air-conditioning.
Trains at Tunnel-Inn are more in-your-face than Station-Inn, where they are across-the-street.
But the heavy brick exterior of Tunnel-Inn keeps out the racket.
About all that wakes me is a train blowing its air-horn after a full-stop brake-test on Track Two before entering the tunnel, and descending The Hill.
(“The Hill” is the grades over the Allegheny mountains; up one side, and down the other.)
I’d always wanted to try Station-Inn, but the only reason this time was that Tunnel-Inn wasn’t open yet — as I understood it.
Kraynyak had a Valentine’s-Day winter special in the past, but not this year.
He has to come all the way from near Philadelphia.
We did the Valentine’s-Day special last February, and got some fabulous pictures.
Gallitzin was under 3-4 feet of snow that time. Poor Kraynyak was trying to clear his tiny parking-lot with only a snowblower.
We were hoping it would be like that this time, but it wasn’t. Just about all the snow was gone.
Temperatures would be into the 40s-50s, well above freezing.
Last year there was so much snow it was covering the ties.
We’d be chasing trains again with Phil Faudi.
Phil is the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, PA, who supplied all-day train-chases for $125. —I did my first two years ago, alone, and it blew my mind.
He called them “Adventure-Tours.”
Faudi would bring along his rail-scanner, tuned to 160.8, the Norfolk Southern operating channel, and he knew the whereabouts of every train, as the engineers called out the signals, and various lineside defect-detectors fired off.
He knew each train by symbol, and knew all the back-roads, and how long it took to get to various photo locations — and also what made a successful photo — lighting, drama, etc.
I’d let Phil do the monitoring. I have a scanner myself, but I left it behind.
Phil knew every train on the scanner, where it was, and how long it took to beat it to a prime photo location.
My first time was a slow day, yet we got 20 trains. Next Tour we got 30 trains in one nine-hour day.
Phil gave it up; fear of liability suits, and a really nice car he’s afraid he’d mess up.
Things would be pretty much the same as his paid tours. About the only difference is I’ll be the driver.
I don’t mind a bit. Phil knows way more than me. He’ll be telling me where to go next.
I have my druthers, which he went by in the past.
I suggested role-reversal, that Phil bring his camera.
But that wasn’t what he wanted to do.
He wanted to show me around like in the past, except this time I’m the car-parker. No more “You get out, Bob; and I’ll park over there.”
Like me, Phil is a railfan. I suppose his greatest thrill is seeing me freak out, and get fabulous pictures. —There also is him showing me how to do what he does.
This time my brother-from-Delaware’s only son, my nephew Tom Hughes, approaching 26, is driving out to join us.
Tom is also a railfan.
To my mind, the idea was to blow Tom’s mind, like Phil did me our first tour.
It won’t be hard. Tom is a railfan just like me.
I remember coming home from work one night, and there was Tom, utterly entranced by my train-videos.
At age five!
Any other kid that age would climb the wall in three minutes.
But not Tom.
Better yet is that Tom brings luck to a railfan. Stop near a railroad, and sooner-or-later a train shows up.
I think we were the only guests, or nearly.
The front-door was locked when we showed up; “no vacancy.”
I called an emergency number posted outside, but got the husband. “Sandy’s not here now (‘grumble’), but works there. I have no idea what you’re talking about. (‘Grumble’).”
I was about to give up and room in Altoona at Holiday-Inn Express, but Station-Inn was in my cellphone contacts.
So I tried that, and got the owner, who was inside the Inn, but in an office where he couldn’t hear us pounding on the door.
“I’ll be right there,” he said. He was, the front-door was unlocked, and we were let in.
He thought we were reserved to arrive the next day, but his computer corrected him.
The owner is the so-called “crazy old coot’ who set up Station-Inn.
“Ever see all them railfans out there taking pictures?” he’d ask his critics.
“Of course we do. They’re all over!”
“Do ya think they sleep in trees?” he’d ask.
So now Callan House is a bed-and-breakfast for railfans, and has been since 1994.
It’s rather rudimentary, but “my clientele is here to watch trains!”
And well they can.
Station-Inn is across the street from the old Pennsy main.
It has an open front porch from which you can watch the passing parade of trains.
We hadn’t been there three minutes and a train appeared; later two trains at once.
We’d been there about five hours, and during that time 20-30 trains passed.
Some were identifiable, like the infamous “trash-train,” and also the “ethanol-train,” solid tank-cars filled with ethanol, with only two safety cars at each end, in this case covered hoppers.
One behind the lead locomotives, and one ahead of the pushers.
The Hill often requires helpers, perhaps two units ahead of the lead power, and/or two units to push, sometimes four.
The railroad keeps a pool of helper-units in Cresson.
They are mainly used on The Hill, yet often go clear to Pittsburgh or Johnstown.
Helpers are not as necessary as they were previously.
Lead units are getting powerful enough to make The Hill unassisted.
Any more, the weight of the train determines if helpers are needed.
The idea is to get the train over the mountains quickly — and not have it stall.
Helper-units also add dynamic-braking descending hills.
With dynamic-braking the locomotive traction-motors are turned into generators, and the current generated is dissipated as heat in giant grids atop the locomotive.
It generates additional braking-action, but only at the locomotive.
Dynamic-braking can help hold back a train descending hills, and keep it from running away. (It’s happened.)
Dynamic-braking is also much easier to use. Previously retainers had to be set up on each car to keep brakes engaged.
A heavy train has momentum, and gravity can make it run away on even the slightest grade.
Every locomotive used on The Hill has dynamic-braking; once an option.
Amtrak’s eastbound “Pennsylvanian,” on Track Two through Lilly, PA. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Day Two: the great train-chase
I hadn’t planned to do this, but things started falling together.
There was a lot of snow on the ground, and it was still covering the ties of Finger Lakes Railway in nearby Canandaigua; even though the roads were clear.
So it looked like I might be able to match the photography I got last February.
Tunnel-Inn was closed, but Station-Inn had vacancy the times needed.
I invited Tom to came out expecting nothing, but he agreed.
Phil also seemed interested.
He had gone out along the railroad, but observed almost all the snow was gone.
“I’m always game to chase trains!” I responded; “even without the snow.”
Chasing trains with Phil is railfan overload.
Best of all was my nephew going to show.
Things were falling into place.
So we reserved at Station-Inn, and drove there.
But we were down to Spring conditions. Just about all the snow was gone.
And we had already hit just about every great photo-location. I’d be repeating previous shots, although perhaps with different light.
Beyond that, my nephew Tom was coming. The goal was to freak him out, much like Phil had done with me our first tour.
It wouldn’t be one of Phil’s “Adventure-Tours.”
Phil did the driving in the past, but this time it would be me.
If anything, I’m probably more conservative; although Phil is conservative himself — he isn’t frightening.
Breakfast at Station-Inn was semi-leaden pancakes prepared by “Chris,” eaten with others at a common table.
My blowhard brother-in-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, usually with ad-hominems and name-calling a la Rush Limbaugh, would love Chris. Chris is an obvious Harley-dude.
Big with grizzled features, a long-haired flowing white mane, and a Santa Claus beard.
But not fat and jolly like Santa Claus.
I’ve been compared to Santa myself — all my hair is white, and I have a beard. —But that’s a little off.
I’m not that fat, Chris even less so.
My brother would like Chris. He’s a macho Harley-dude who likes to eat.
Station-Inn is the hands-down winner for breakfast-food. Tunnel Inn is okay, but not hand-made breakfast at a table.
Phil walked in, and off we went.
First to the highway overpass over the tracks in Lilly, then down to South Fork.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, yet.
We got Amtrak’s eastbound Pennsylvanian on Track Two through Lilly next to a westbound passing on Track Three.
We also got that same westbound approaching the same overpass, as illustrated at the beginning.
We then drove down to South Fork, where I missed my first photo-opportunity. The train was appearing as I parked.
We then drove back north to Summerhill, just north of South Fork.
I parked the car, and we walked up on the overpass in Summerhill.
The signal-lights are always lit on the old Pennsy signal-bridge, and the eastbound targets are up high to be visible over the overpass.
227 westbound on Track Two at Summerhill. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Back down to South Fork, where I got different camera-angles. It was still morning light. The big curve only works in the afternoon.
11K westbound on Track Two (note the shared BNSF unit). (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Track Three, the normal westbound track, was now out-of-service for maintenance. Everything westbound was being sent Track Two, which can be either way.
We then walked out on a highway overpass at the north end of South Fork.
Coal from the South Fork Secondary was parked on a siding — you can see it in the picture (below).
21Q westbound on Track Two through South Fork (note the leased EMD unit). (Photo by BobbaLew.)
We then drove back to Cresson.
After Cresson we drove all the way north to Plummer’s Crossing, east of Tyrone, PA. It’s where Plummer’s Road crosses the railroad.
It’s also where the railroad turns east through a notch in the mountains.
I was hoping to snag a westbound at Plummer’s; it’s an attractive S-curve.
But nothing.
20V eastbound approaches Plummer’s Crossing. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
All I got was an eastbound stacker; straight-track approaching the crossing. But the lead unit was not wide-cab.
Clouds were also moving in.
We then drove down to McFarland’s Curve near Tipton, what I call “Six Targets.”
That’s because it has an old Pennsy signal-bridge with six targets, the maximum. All three tracks can be either way.
It’s my favorite location; primarily because that signal-bridge, silhouetted against the sky, without distraction, makes a great frame.
But it’s only a two-track railroad at that point, the controlled-siding (the closest track) is only a siding.
To get to McFarland’s is up a dirt-track. It was filled with icy slush.
My CR-V has All-Wheel-Drive, plus the high ground-clearance of an SUV, so up we went, slipping and sliding over rocky gravel.
It’s a dirt-track Faudi dare not try in his new Buick, for fear of bottoming something.
And without All-Wheel-Drive he might not make it.
22W east on the controlled-siding under “Six-Targets.” (Photo by BobbaLew.)
“Don’t go up on the embankment, Tom. Down here (at trackside) is where it works. That silhouettes the signal-bridge against the sky.”
One track was still outta-service, which was why a mainline train was on the controlled-siding.
We then drove down into Altoona, the 17th St. bridge near “Alto” tower (“Al-toe;” as in the name “Al”), and also Slope Interlocking and Brickyard Crossing.
Alto is the tower that operates the vast Altoona complex, although it only operates, not dispatches.
Westbound helpers are attached there, and there are numerous tracks.
Westbound trailer-van on Track Three through Altoona. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Slope Interlocking is where tracks eastbound into the Altoona yard begin; it used to be a tower location, but that tower was removed long ago.
It’s called “Slope” because that’s where The Hill begins.
“Brickyard” is a road-crossing next to an abandoned brick plant. It looks like that brick plant is gonna be demolished, in which case the name “Brickyard” becomes a misnomer.
The road that crosses is actually Porta Road, not “Brickyard.”
But “Brickyard” is what railfans have always called the crossing.
We took pictures at each location, but my ones at Slope were best.
This is despite my thinking Slope was sort of a waste.
It’s an overpass, but over straight track.
But I wanted Tom to be able to find Slope.
The front of Y94. (Two SD40-E helpers are leading.) (Photo by BobbaLew.)
Above (at Slope) is probably my best shot, but it’s only a grab-shot.
At Brickyard, where Tom has been before, we were passed by 10G eastbound on Track One, with a Virginia Railway Express (VRE) engine trailing the power.
10G east down The Hill at Brickyard Crossing, with a VRE engine dead-in-tow. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
The VRE locomotive had probably been overhauled, and was on its way back to Virginia.
We hit Slope a second time, and got a few more pictures.
23W westbound on Track Three, passing a stopped double-stack on Two for lack of railroad to continue. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
But by now our light was fading. I jacked the ISO up to 400 so I could continue shooting, but was down to 1/200th with the lens wide-open.
591 up The Hill at Slope. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
By now the headlight was reflecting on the lens; I had to take it out with the Photoshop Clone-tool.
Back to Alto one more time, but under the 17th St. bridge. I’ve never liked the location — a chainlink fence impinges. But you can stand off to the side, and minimize the fence.
But it was too late. It was probably already after 5 p.m., and getting dark. I was down to 1/100th wide-open, at 400 ISO.
So we gave up and left. (23 trains.)
Dinner-time.
Day Three: back to reality
—1) As always, the question is:
How much longer can I keep doing this?
We’re both 67.
The trip here is getting to be a drag, even though it’s only five hours, maybe 260 miles or so.
Both trips, here and back, were uneventful.
It used to be I had to sack out after a trip; nap on arrival, nap after getting home.
That seems to no longer be the case, although I mark off each way-marker.
Four-three-two more hours to go.
“Fort Roberdeau,” another 20-25 miles.
“Altoona, 45 miles.”
At least, distances on this trip are short, usually no more than 60 miles. “Williamsport, 50 miles;” “Mansfield, 40 miles;” “Corning, 38 miles;” “State College, 25 miles.”
Across New York state from home is about 75-80 miles, all country two-lanes.
Then it’s into Pennsylvania.
All roads across PA are four-lane expressway, 60-70 mph.
Only one section is intersections at grade, about six miles. But it’s four-lane.
I also do a shortcut that is two-lane.
It shortcuts a dog-leg.
Five hours is about my limit.
If it’s more, we share the driving, although even in the shotgun seat I’m still driving.
We split the driving so my wife gets the easy parts, while I get the difficult parts.
This is because she’s “automotively-challenged;” her ability to judge things is compromised — she gets overly nervous.
I can live with that. It took a while. On balance I accept that. She’s not frightening or worrisome.
When a car or truck is merging, I tell her if she needs to back off.
—2) I have my up days and down days.
This trip seemed to be up.
Some days I am utterly fagged-out working out at the YMCA Exercise-Gym.
It’s a struggle to keep going, although I usually can.
Other days I crush the exercise machines.
This trip wasn’t that, but close.
It used to be with Faudi I’d fag out about 4 p.m.
Chasing trains can be a rat-race, and Phil is the Energizer-Bunny.
But I keep going, or can now.
Phil and I have different walking speeds, me slower than him.
One time I had to run to catch up, but I still can.
—3) Will I do it again?
Probably.
Chasing trains is great fun, and with Phil you only wait a few minutes.
On my own, the wait might be a half-hour or more.
Trains are frequent on this line, but I’m not Phil.
—4) Can I do it myself?
Perhaps.
What I really know, and can understand, is defect-detector transmissions, and where those defect-detectors are.
Signal locations I’m getting the hang of, and the train-engineers call out the signal-aspects as they pass.
On the other hand, “Garble-hiss-mumble.....”
“Oh, that’s 20Q. He’s in the picture. He’s about five hours late. If we drive over to Pinecroft, we can beat him.”
“Great, Phil. To me that was static.”
We passed a train coming down The Hill on our way home.
We decided not to wait for it north of Altoona.
That train would change crews in Altoona, a long wait.
That’s knowledge gleaned from Phil.
—5) Back to Tunnel Inn next visit.
The fact Martha Stewart lives there is part of it, but mainly it’s their bed that will sleep two.
We’re in separate beds at Station-Inn: my wife wonders if I’m still breathing.
“I hope he’s all right; I can’t hear anything.”
At Tunnel Inn we just reach over, and the warm body is still there.
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posted by BobbaLew at 7:10 AM
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