Sunday, May 01, 2011

Monthly Calendar Report for May, 2011


Eastbound train 10G with SD40-2 helpers up The Hill on Track One at Summerhill. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

―The May 2011 entry of my own calendar is another rerun.
It ran as the January entry in my 2010 calendar.
That’s because my 2011 calendar is one I did for Tunnel Inn, the bed-and-breakfast we stay at in Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin”) when in the Altoona (“al-TUNE-uh;” as in the name “Al”), PA area.
Altoona is the location of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s crossing of the Allegheny mountains, including Horseshoe Curve (the “Mighty Curve”), by far the BEST railfan spot I’ve ever been to.
Horseshoe Curve is now a national historic site. It was a trick by the railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades — the railroad was looped around a valley to stretch out the climb. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use.
I’m a railfan, and have been since age-two (I’m 67). The viewing-area is smack in the apex of the Curve; and trains are willy-nilly. Up-close-and personal. —I’ve been there hundreds of times, since it’s only about five hours away.
That 2011 calendar for Tunnel Inn crashed; the post-office lost the order.
We did a 2012 calendar for Tunnel Inn with the same pictures they can sell throughout the year.
Significant about this picture is that the helper-set on the point was two SD40-2s.
The SD40-2s were coming to the end of their careers as helper-sets on The Hill.
In 2008 they had been in that service about 20 years.
When I started revisiting the Curve a few years after my stroke, the helper-sets were SD40-2s.
The SD40-2 helpers are being replaced by downgraded SD-50s, downgraded and modified for helper-service into SD40-Es. Down to 3,000 horsepower; the SD-50s were 3,500.
Both the SD40-2s and SD-50 were six-axle EMD power. The SD40-2 was phenomenally successful, and lasted for years. —I’m told this was because non-EMD replacement parts were available and accepted. The Dash-2 EMD locomotives had updated modular electronics; not the antique stuff found in the SD-40.
SD-40s and the SD40-2 are discernible by their frames. The frame was that of the SD-45, longer to accommodate a longer hood to use a 20-cylinder engine.
SD-40s and SD40-2s have the shorter hood of a 16-cylinder engine, but still use the longer SD-45 frame.
This renders a “porch” ahead of the short hood.
The SD40-Es are a bit longer, and have the hood of an SD-50.
Lettering on the cab tells what each locomotive is; e.g. “SD40-E.”
This was my first train-chase with Phil Faudi (“FOW-dee;” as in “wow).
I’ve written up Phil so many times, I’d only be boring constant-readers. If you need clarification, click this link, my January 2011 calendar-report, and read the first part — the January entry of my own calendar. It mentions Phil.
Phil keeps a notebook of every train we saw, but this train is not in it. (Nor is the location.)
We’re not sure of the train-number, although Phil thinks it would be 10G. Phil kind of knows what’s supposed to show up when, and has no record of 10G at other locations.
So we think it’s 10G.
I don’t feel train-numbers are that important, so I don’t keep record of them.
But knowing what will show up when helps Phil know what trains are coming.



1969 Mercury Cyclone Cobra-Jet 428. (Photo by Ron Kimball©.)

―Hooray-hooray, a Ford product has finally appeared in my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar, in this case a 1969 Cobra-Jet 428 Mercury Cyclone, Mercury’s version of the Ford mid-size car.
Fords always seemed to be at the bottom of the musclecar totem-pole.
Their reputation, true-or-not, was the Ford musclecars quickly fell out of tune. Making them easily beatable.
Ford never exceeded 429 cubic inches in its musclecars. GM went to 455 cubic inches in their Oldsmobile, Buick, and Pontiac musclecars. The Chevelle went to 454 cubic inches.
Nevertheless the Ford musclecars made excellent racecars in NASCAR, e.g. David Pearson’s Wood Brothers Mercury illustrated at left.
David was also known as “the Silver Fox,” because he could pull off a fast-one to win a race.
E.g. backing off as if outta gas, and then wicking it back up again to beat others who had backed off.
He also won the Daytona 500 in 1976 by driving his wrecked racecar slowly over the finish-line ahead of Richard Petty, who he had wrecked with, and Petty couldn’t restart. Petty would have won otherwise.
It was Pearson’s only win of the Daytona 500.
The Cobra-Jets were fabulous musclecars, but not the world-beaters the GM musclecars were.
Everyone bows to the GM musclecars, so it’s nice to see a Ford musclecar featured in this calendar. A 1970 Torino will be next month’s entry.



Peddler. (Photo by Chris Rotondo.)

―The May 2011 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar is what appears to be a small local-freight on a Norfolk Southern branch.
A single GP38-2 is delivering empty tankcars for lube-oil to a refinery near Chester, WV.
Chester is in the West Virginia panhandle, adjacent to Pennsylvania and across the Ohio river from Ohio.
This is photographer Rotondo’s seventh attempt to get something in the Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar; all six previous tries failed.
What’s notable to me is that it isn’t three or more six-axle units blasting a long freight on the high-iron main.
It’s a local, a peddler, with only a single GP38-2, what used to be much more prevalent years ago.
A single small locomotive trundling out to our burg to switch sidings.
A single car here, a single car there; what trucks are doing now.
Where railroading attained supremacy is moving 200 or more freight-containers in one long train great distances across country.
That many containers on highways becomes ridiculous. A driver for each container or two, plus quite a bit more fuel. A rubber tire on a highway has way more rolling resistance than a steel wheel on a steel rail.
Plus interstate expressway requires a much wider right-of-way than a railroad.
But when it comes to getting that single container to its final destination, trucking makes more sense.
Industry used to locate next to railroads, but no longer.
To get that container to its final destination by rail required a small local freight like what’s pictured.
Shuffling cars from a yard in the center of town out to industry sidings.
Trucking is much more timely.
At least this train is all tankcars for an oil-refinery, but I doubt it’s more than 10 cars.
The train is doing track-speed, about 20.
Railroad tankcars make more sense than highway tanker trailers; more capacity.
The railroad is currently Norfolk Southern, but I bet it eventually becomes an independent shortline, perhaps owned by the oil-refinery.
This train reminds of what I see on Finger Lakes Railway, a shortline that took over the old New York Central Auburn (“aw-burn”) Road, which became part of Conrail.
The Auburn (which goes through Auburn), built in 1830, was the first railroad across western New York, although it was rather circuitous compared to the mighty New York Central main built shortly thereafter.
It also ended in Rochester.
It was never abandoned because it hit many small farm-towns. Plus it could be used as a bypass if NYC’s main was plugged.
Finger Lakes, where I see it in nearby Canandaigua, moves maybe six covered hopper-cars perhaps three days a week to factory sidings — track-speed, 10-20 mph, depending on location and track-condition.
Finger Lakes is peddlers like what’s pictured.



It’s stock!

―The May 2011 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a hot-rodded 1934 Ford two-door sedan.
What’s most noticeable about this car is its body is stock, a 1934 Ford two-door sedan.
No top-chop, full fenders, running-boards, stock bumpers.
Nothing is hot-rodded but the paint.
The color is not a stock Ford color, and of course the flames aren’t.
The engine is also not stock, a hot-rodded 302 cubic-inch Ford Small-Block V8, Ford’s response to the fabulous Chevrolet Mouse-motor introduced in the 1955 model-year.
(”Mouse” because the Chevrolet Big-Block is called the “Rat”-motor.
The Chevrolet “Big-Block” V8 was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches. It was made in various displacements: 402, 427 and 454 cubic inches. It’s still made as a truck-motor, but not installed in cars any more; although you can get it as a crate-motor, for self-installation.
The Chevrolet “Small-Block” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first to 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured.
The “Big-Block” could be immensely powerful, and the “Small-Block” was revolutionary in its time.)
Ford’s first overhead-valve V8 was its Y-block in the 1954 model-year, called the “Y-block” because its block-casting went below the crankshaft centerline, making the casting look like a Y.
But it was a stone compared to the fabulous high-winding Chevrolet Small-Block.
Normally I’m not much for two-door sedans, but this is a great-looking car.
It helps it’s the stock body, not stripped of its fenders and running-boards, which hotrodders were prone to do.
Another easy modification was for hotrodders to swap out the bumpers for those used on a ’49 Plymouth.
Okay, but stock looks better.
It looks like the front-axle was “dropped.”
The front-axle on a ’34 Ford was a single forged cross-beam suspended on a single buggy-spring.
Quite adequate if well-located, like with forked trackbars.
I don’t know if this car has trackbars.
To install ‘em might require stripping the fenders.
The wheels were on kingpins at the beam-axle ends.
And those ends could be “dropped;” rebending the axle-ends upward so the axle-center sat lower relative to the wheels.
This way the front of the car sat lower to the ground.
This lowering of the front-end could also be attained by swapping out the stock front axle for a curved tube-axle — or even dropping the ends of the tube-axle.
The rear axle of the car appears to be at stock height, so the car is raked downward toward the front. —An aggressive stance everyone mimicked.
But it’s probably not the stock ’34-Ford “Banjo” rear-end.
(Called “the banjo” because the center differential casing, an iron casting, looked like a banjo.)
A Banjo couldn’t sustain the output of that hotrodded 302 cubic-inch V8.
The car is also an automatic transmission, a let-down to me.
An auto-tranny would lose the charisma of a Detroit V8 winding up through the gears.
For that ya need a four-speed Warner T-10, or perhaps a “rock-crusher,” GM’s four-speed that would withstand musclecar output.


A Dek crossing a road on the bucolic Elmira branch. (Photo by Phil Hastings©.)

—The May 2011 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black and white All-Pennsy Calendar is a Decapod 2-10-0 Pennsy steam-locomotive crossing a road on the Elmira branch.
The Elmira branch is actually the old Northern-Central main north of Williamsport, in which Pennsy took a controlling interest in 1861.
The Northern-Central was north out of Baltimore, through York, PA, eventually across from Harrisburg on the west side of the Susquehanna (“suss-kwee-HANN-uh”) River.
Northern-Central went farther north, and crossed the Susquehanna north of Harrisburg on its own rickety covered bridge.
That bridge was abandoned when Pennsy took control. Trains would now cross on Pennsy’s massive Rockville Bridge.
Little is left of Northern-Central’s covered bridge, just crumbled stone piers in the river.
Most are gone, but one remains with a small Statue-of-Liberty on it.
Most of the Elmira branch was abandoned. It’s hard to even find the right-of-way.
The line went to Canandaigua after Penn Yan, and getting to Penn Yan was a struggle. Hills and tight curvature.
The line was eventually extended to Lake Ontario via a branch, and a massive pier built at Sodus Point.
Photo by BobbaLew.
The long-gone Pennsy wharf at Sodus Point.
Who built this extension I don’t know; Northern-Central before it was taken over, or Pennsy.
The idea was to transload coal or iron-ore into lake ships, which is what Pennsy did.
It’s a Pennsy hopper-train, but it may be returning south empty. —There’s no indication of direction.
Hastings was a giant of late steam railroad photography. Although he did other railroads beside Pennsy.
Pennsy was still using steam on the Elmira branch until steam was retired.
The Elmira branch was the preserve of the massive Pennsy Decapod (2-10-0), and following the line into Penn Yan you can see why.
Watkins Glen to Penn Yan is uphill. Decapods would be needed to conquer it.
Slow pounding up the grade, twisting and turning — dragging a long string of heavy loaded hoppers at 10 mph.
Most of of the Elmira branch was abandoned, although portions are extant.
Finger Lakes Railway operates into Penn Yan and Watkins Glen via trackage-rights over the Norfolk Southern Corning Secondary, ex New York Central, to Himrod Junction, where New York Central crossed Pennsy.
A segment is operated by Ontario Midland, Newark north to the old New York Central Hojack line near Webster, east of Rochester. Newark is where Pennsy bridged the New York Central main.
But the line to Sodus Point is gone, as is the wharf.
The line to Canandaigua is also gone.



Texan. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The May 2011 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a sunset photograph of a North-American SNJ-5 Texan trainer, an airplane I’ve never thought much of.
I feel that because so many are still around, over 350 according to my Warbirds site.
It seems every single-engined radial I’ve seen is a Texan.
I’ve seen a Corsair and a Bearcat, but Texans are a dime-a-dozen.
I’ve been to the Geneseo Air-show a few times, and it was overloaded with Texans.
My brother and I heard a radial-engined airplane overhead, and it was a Texan.
The Texan was a trainer, nicknamed “the pilot maker,” a step for prospective fighter-pilots from basic pilot training to fighter-plane hot-rods.
It was a very forgiving and friendly airplane, yet a step up from basic pilot training in Stearman or Ryan trainers.
It’s engine was a single-row Pratt-and-Whitney Wasp, nine cylinders, 550-600 horsepower, not a Double-Wasp exceeding 2,000 horsepower, where you were always hanging on for dear life.
I’ve seen video from a Bearcat cockpit, an airplane that seems too fast for its own good.
Barely controllable — always trying to kill you.
The Texan is a radial, but you’re not hanging on for dear life.
It would only do about 210 mph, not 400-plus.
The Texan is called the T-6. SNJ is the Navy’s version.



The “Queen Mary.” (Photo by Bill Janssen.)

The May 2011 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is a combination inspection and parlor car, a train-end observation-car, built by Pullman in 1925.
It’s the “Queen Mary,” a special Pennsy car. Also a heavyweight with six-wheel trucks.
It was purchased from Wabash Railroad in 1945.
As a tail-end car, I sort of don’t think that much of it, except it’s an observation-car — stand outside on the observation platform and watch the tracks disappear in the distance, especially if the train is moving.
A most pleasant experience, and I’ve done it myself, although never from an observation-car.
During the ‘60s, I rode the rearmost coach of a fast southbound train, Philadelphia to Wilmington, DE, on what became the Northeast Corridor.
80-90 mph, and looking through a window of the rear door through the vestibule, four-track main and overhead catenary (“kat-in-AIR-eee”) receding quickly into the distance.
The Pennsy line from New York City to Washington D.C. was fully electrified, and the current for the locomotives was delivered by overhead wire, called a “catenary” because it was suspended from a catenary of cables.
In the ‘80s it was the same window in the rear door of Amtrak’s “Lakeshore Limited” segment to Boston (another segment went to New York City), crossing Massachusetts. (The Lakeshore was from Chicago east — it still runs.)
Photo by BobbaLew.
40-50 mph south on the Tioga Central — that’s Lake Hammond to the right.
A few years ago it was an open car on the tail-end of a Tioga Central (“tie-OH-guh”) dinner-train, skirting Hammond Lake in Pennsylvania on the old New York Central line to Williamsport.
We were on new railroad laid with welded rail. Hammond Lake was the result of a flood-control dam which flooded the original line.
The railroad had to be relocated when the dam was built — after Hurricane Agnes. —The dam also flooded highways.
That relocation was the best railroad Tioga Central had. Everything else was bolted stick-rail, 33 foot lengths, good for about 20 mph.
The relocation was good for 40-50 mph.
Tioga Central is the shortline that took over the Williamsport line from Conrail.
It also moves freightcars with Alco locomotives, including an RS-1 from Washington Terminal (Washington Union Station, Washington D.C.)
Photo by Alex Ranaldi©.
Tioga Central’s Alco RS-1.
The RS-1 is the first road-switcher, fielded by Alco in 1941.
“Alco” is American Locomotive Company of Schenectady, NY. For years, American Locomotive Company was a primary manufacturer of railroad steam locomotives. (It was originally a merger of many steam locomotive manufacturers.)
With the changeover by railroads to diesel-locomotives, American Locomotive Company brought out a line of diesel-electric railroad locomotives much like the railroads were changing to, and changed its name to “Alco.”
Alco tanked a while ago; they never competed as well as EMD (General Motors’ “Electromotive Division”).
Only a few Alco locomotives are still running, and they’re considered prizes.
The “Queen Mary” was used by Pennsy for important assignments, like specials to the Army/Navy game in Philadelphia.
Pennsy used to run special service to that game, and had an electrified yard next to the stadium.
Trains would wait there until the game ended, after which they would refill, and return to where they had started.
E.g. an Army contingent to New York City for return to West Point via New York Central, and a Navy contingent to Annapolis, which I think was served by a Pennsy branch.
The car lasted into Penn-Central, and upon retirement became part of a restaurant in Wayne, N.J.
It’s painted Tuscan-red (“tuss-kin;” not “Tucson,” Ariz.), the standard Pennsy passenger color.
Houses in Altoona were often painted Tuscan-red. Altoona was the major Pennsy shop town. (You figure it out.)
Also visible in this picture, top-right, is an “AC motor-stop” sign, the end of the overhead wire. Beyond that sign, electric locomotives could no longer operate.

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