Monthly Calendar Report for September, 2012

Potshot! (Photo by BobbaLew with Phil Faudi.)

—The September 2012 entry of my own calendar is what I consider a potshot.
We were heading for the bridge in Altoona not far from Slope Interlocking, and a westbound was approaching on Track Three.
Slope is where the climb over the Alleghenies begins. It’s also where the tracks divide for entry into the massive Altoona yard complex to the east.
Pennsy also had its shops in Altoona, and locomotive manufacture.
Altoona is no longer what it was, but the tracks still divide into drag-tracks and express tracks.
There also are locomotive shops for Norfolk Southern in Juniata (“June-eee-AT-uh) just north of Altoona — It’s the old Pennsy Juniata shops.
Altoona used to be a main classification yard. It still is, somewhat.
It’s also where helper locomotives are added if needed westbound for the climb over the Allegheny mountains.
I missed orderly photos of this train; we got there just as it arrived.

Photo by BobbaLew with Phil Faudi.

Later (more organized). —The Slope control-box is at left.
A second train came later; I was more organized shooting it. (Not a potshot.)
There used to be a tower at Slope, but it’s long-gone.
All that remains is a metal equipment-box on the old tower foundation. That box is maybe 125 yards from the bridge we were on.
As we arrived I shot a potshot of the approaching train.
The camera auto-focuses, so the picture is in focus; although it’s probably at infinity.
I’m shooting through holes in a chain-link fence, and am right over Track Three.
What you don’t see here is how cockeyed my photo was, tilted at least 15 degrees.
I had to crop a lot to rectify that tilt.

Photo by BobbaLew with Phil Faudi.

SD40-E helpers lead an eastbound down Track One toward Slope Interlocking.
But the photo proves the old adage. Just shoot and see what you get!
The sunlight is right overhead in the calendar-picture. It’s shining right into the cab. I remember the engineer was eating a sandwich.
From pictures like this I’ve learned to shoot potshots.
Above is another potshot.
Quite often the potshots are what end up in my calendar.
The above picture will be in a future calendar.



Righteous!

—The September 2012 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is actually a ’33 Ford Three-Window coupe.
Although it has a ’36 grill.
This car is an assemblage of various parts to offset the fact it’s a ’33, not that attractive.
A ’33 grill doesn’t look that bad, but not as good as a ’32 or ’34 (I prefer the ’32). A ’33 grill looks much like the ’34.
But the ’36 grill on this car looks great.

A ’33.

A ’36.

The car benefits from having the ’33’s body-lines, more squarish.
The ’36 Ford is more bulbous, and not as attractive.
The ’33 Ford also has louvered hood-sides. The ’36 is a chromed applique. The louvers look better.
But the ’36 grill is attractive, more so than the ’33 grill.
The car also has a ’32 Ford gas-tank, which I think is between the rear bumper and the trunk.
The car also has the right motor and equipment, a 392 cubic-inch SVO Ford V8, injected, into a five-speed Tremac transmission into a 9-inch Ford rear-axle.
That rear-axle is antediluvian, but the car’s on a frame.
The car is old; it’s not modern. It’s not state-of-the-art.
It’s not unit-body; it’s body-on-frame.
The only thing counteracting twisting forces is the frame, not body-structure; although it contributes some.
The front-axle is beam-axle, the application found on cars at that time, and on many modern trucks.
It’s not the compliant, well-engineered MacPherson strut layout found on modern cars.
Dragsters often have simple beam-axles in front, a system that locates the axle well for straightline acceleration.
Hotrods didn’t have to do well over tortured pavement through curves like in Europe.
The hotrod’s venue was straightline acceleration over a drag-strip, or high-speed runs over smooth pavement or a dry lake-bed.
Pavement in this country is becoming tortured enough to require European suspension.
This car is essentially the calendar’s feature-car.
Combining attractive elements onto an unattractive car. A ’36 Ford grill, etc onto a ’33 Ford, a car that doesn’t attract that much attention.
The fact it’s a ’33 Ford gives it better lines than a ’36, yet it has the prettier ’36 grill ahead of the ’33’s great-looking louvers.
Plus it’s a good color with that single gold pin-stripe.




Coil-train. (Photo by Tim Calvin.)

—The September 2012 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar is a mixed freight, although the first 16-17 cars are coiled steel in Protec© cars.
Long strips of sheet-steel are coiled for shipment, and then loaded into these cars.
The cars have covers that protect the coiled steel from the elements.
That steel sheet may eventually become a fender-stamping for a Chevrolet Cruze, or a panel for a washing-machine.
Delivery has to be made without damage, like corrosion or rust.
Which explains the Protec© cars, protection from the elements.
Never have I seen unprotected steel being delivered.
I’ve seen slab-trains, heavy steel slabs loaded into gondola-cars, slab for delivery to a rolling-plant to roll into thin steel sheet.
Once in a while I’ve seen trains of only Protec© cars. But usually the cars are folded into a mixed-freight, what this train appears to be.
The lead engine, #4638, ex-Southern Railway, is an EMD (General Motors’ Electromotive Division) GP-59, 3,000 horsepower. It’s also an “Operation Lifesaver” locomotive, which means for the “Operation Lifesaver” promotion.
A GP (“Geep”) is four axles, all driven. Geeps are no longer made. New freight-engines are six-axles, all driven. That’s six traction-motors instead of four. In EMD parlance that’s an “SD.”
“Operation Lifesaver” is to get the public aware of railroad-crossing safety, to get people to not drive around down grade-crossing gates, for fear a train might be coming that could smash the errant vehicle to smithereens, and kill the occupants.
If the errant vehicle is large and heavy enough it could derail the train.
Make it a gasoline-truck and a collision could cause a conflagration, killing the locomotive-crew.
If the train derails, and it was tankcars full of flammables or toxics, devastation could erupt that evacuates the surroundings.
As a railfan I stop at the slightest indication the crossing-gates will drop. There’s a train to see.
Yet drivers take chances trying to beat an onrushing train to a grade-crossing.
There’s a chance the train might plug the crossing and delay their trip, Heaven-forbid!
Worse yet are drivers that think trains don’t exist any more, that down crossing-gates are just an impediment to their progress.
They just drive around the gates, and are surprised when their vehicle gets clobbered.
Semis have been hit this way.
Then too there’s the clearance-problem; a low-clearance trailer might hang up on the railroad-tracks and get stuck in the railroad-crossing.
I’ve seen signs requiring 18-inch clearance at railroad-crossings.
Anything less and the trailer might hang up on the tracks, and plug the crossing until it can be freed. Call the railroad, and stop any oncoming trains. lest they smash into the hung-up trailer.
Stryker, in the far northwestern corner of Ohio, location of the photograph, is an old town with a beautiful depot and a trackside mill.
The railroad is the old Michigan Southern, once a part of New York Central’s line to Chicago, far as I know.
Norfolk Southern must have got it in the Conrail breakup and sale.
Conrail succeeded Penn-Central, the merger of Pennsylvania Railroad and New York Central that failed. Conrail was originally a government entity, but privatized as it became profitable.
Conrail was broken up and sold in 1999, with most of the ex-Pennsy lines going to Norfolk Southern, and most of the ex-NYC lines going to CSX Transportation.
But apparently this Michigan Southern line, an old NYC line, went to Norfolk Southern.
I fired up Stryker in my Google satellite-views, could see the old depot, but there appear to be mill-buildings on both sides of the tracks.




1970 Cammer Mustang (Boss 429). (Peter Harholdt©.)

—The September 2012 entry of my Motorbooks Musclecars calendar is a Boss 429 Mustang, a car brought to market to allow Ford to race the incredible 429 “Cammer” in NASCAR.
The “Cammer” was meant to compete with Chrysler’s “Hemi” (“hem-eee;” not “he-me”) in NASCAR. The Ford engine was called the “Cammer” because it had a single overhead camshaft in each cylinder-head. —Unlike Chrysler’s Hemi, which still had its camshaft down in the block between the cylinder banks.

Photo by Peter Harholdt©.

The Boss 429 “Cammer” engine.
The “Cammer” is a tight fit in a Mustang. The Cammer is huge!
It had to be just about hammered into place.
The exhaust manifolds are contorted and restrictive.
To succeed the Cammer Mustang needs steel-tube headers, aftermarket at that time.
Steel-tube headers don’t last like cast-iron exhaust manifolds.
Not limited by casting requirements, steel-tube headers can flow more exhaust and allow the engine to better breathe.
Such a car is obviously aimed at the drag-strip.
With such a big heavy engine over the front-end, the car would plow (understeer) in corners.
In fact, one wonders how the lightly-loaded rear axle would avoid spinning at the drag-strip when a Cammer was unleashed.



Box-cab. (Photo by Fred Kern.)

— The September 2012 entry of my AII-Pennsy color calendar is a box-cab version of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s P5a electric locomotive (4-6-4).
There were two versions of the P5a, a box-cab version and a steeple-cab version.
The steeple-cab version was developed after a box-cab had a grade-crossing accident, killing its crew.
A box-cab, of course, had its crew right up front. A steeple-cab put a long nose in front of the crew, which was toward the middle.

A GG1 passenger express passes a P5a-powered freight.

Photo by Fred Kern.

The July entry

Photo by Fred Kern.

The August entry.
The steeple-cab version of the P5a is at left.
Railfans make the mistake of calling a box-cab a P5 and the steeple-cab a P5a.
Not so. Both are the same engine, only different cabs.
Another Fred Kern picture.
Already Kern has had two other pictures (also at left) in this calendar.
The P5 was supposed to be a passenger locomotive.
But it wasn’t very successful.
It had to be MUed (two units) to do what needed to be done.
And then, of course, the phenomonal GG1 (“Jee-Jee-ONE;” I only say that because a friend was mispronouncing it “Jee-Jee-Eye”) was developed.
I single GG1 could do what needed to be done, which was maintain schedules on Pennsy’s electrified New York-to-Washington line.

Photo by BobbaLew.

Bad photo of a box-cab entering the Edgemoor yard-lead north of Wilmington, DE.

Photo by BobbaLew.

P5a steeple-cab, etc., at the Wilmington sanding-tower.
So the P5a was reassigned as a freight-locomotive.
Although GG1s did that too. Early ones were regeared for freight service.




Lavochkin La-9. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The September 2012 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a fighter-plane I don’t recognize.
That’s because it’s Russian.
I’ll let Wikipedia talk about it — it’s not on my WWII warbirds site, it not being a WWII fighter-plane.
“The Lavochkin La-9 (NATO reporting name “Fritz”) was a Soviet fighter aircraft produced shortly after WWII. It was a piston-engined aircraft produced at the start of the jet age.
The La-9 represents a further development of the Lavochkin La-126 prototype. The first prototype, designated La-130 was finished in 1946.
Similarity to the famous Lavochkin La-7 was only superficial — the new fighter had all-metal construction and a laminar flow wing. Weight savings due to elimination of wood from the airframe allowed for greatly improved fuel capacity and a four-cannon armament.”
A laminar wing is one that passed air in parallel layers without disruption. It was in effect “streamlined.”
Wiki again: “Consider the flow of air over an aircraft wing. The boundary layer is a very thin sheet of air lying over the surface of the wing (and all other surfaces of the aircraft). Because air has viscosity, this layer of air tends to adhere to the wing.”
The P-51 Mustang also had a laminar wing.
“Mock combat demonstrated that the La-130 was evenly matched with the La-7 but was inferior to Yakovlev Yak-3 both horizontally and vertically.
The new fighter, officially designated La-9, entered production in August 1946. A total of 1,559 aircraft were built by the end of production in 1948.”
Its powerplant was a Shvetsov ASh-82FN air-cooled radial engine with a two-stage supercharger and fuel injection, 1,850 horsepower.
Maximum speed was 428 miles-per-hour, range was 1,077 miles, and ceiling was 35,433 feet (10,800 meters).
Only one La-9 remains in airworthy condition today, owned by Jerry Yagen of Virginia Beach, VA, restored by Pioneer Aero Restorations between 2001 and 2003.
That’s probably the one pictured.
It’s interesting this airplane is in a WWII warbirds calendar, since it’s technically not a WWII warbird.
A handful of others remain in museums in China, Korea and one in Romania. None are airworthy.




Southbound coal-empties from Sodus Point. (Photo courtesy Joe Luo Collection©.)

—The September 2012 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is sort of crude, but it’s a steam-locomotive, a Pennsy I1sa Decapod (2-10-0).
It’s running south on the old line from Sodus Point harbor (“So-dis;” as in ”soda”) on Lake Ontario.
My guess is the Northern Central, or its predecessor, in New York state, went to Canandaigua (“cannan-DAY-gwuh”), where it interchanged with Canandaigua & Niagara Falls, later New York Central’s infamous “Peanut-line,” called that by a New York Central executive because it was such a “peanut” compared to the mighty New York Central main (four tracks) across New York state.
“Canandaigua” is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 14 miles away.
The Canandaigua & Niagara Falls could ship PA coal to the Buffalo and Niagara falls areas.
NYC got the “Peanut” in exchange for not financing South Pennsylvania Railroad, competition for Pennsy across PA. NYC also got West Shore, competition for NYC across New York financed by Pennsy.
Much of the South Pennsylvania, graded but never completed (no rail) became the Pennsylvania Turnpike, including tunnels.

Photo by BobbaLew.

The coal-trestle (closed) at Sodus Point.
The Sodus Point line was built by Sodus Point & Southern to a coal-wharf in Sodus Point that could transfer railroad hopper-loads of coal (or iron-ore) into lake steamships.
That coal-trestle, made of wood and abandoned, burned down in 1971 during dismantling.
The coal-trestle pictured, 60 feet high and 800 feet long, replaced an earlier smaller trestle (40 high by 400 feet long).
(I ran this coal-trestle picture before, and when I did it got a lot of comments. Memories, especially the fire.)
Pennsy acquired controlling-interest in Northern Central in 1861, and thereafter operated the line as a subsidiary. Their intent was to counter Baltimore & Ohio.
Pennsy merged Sodus Point & Southern in 1884, taking over the traffic to-and-from Sodus Point.
Northern Central was an amalgamation of various predecessor railroads, originally out of Baltimore, through York, PA, and eventually up the western shore of the Susquehanna (“suss-kwee-HAN-uh;” as in “and”) river to a crossing north of Pennsy’s Rockville bridge.
But their crossing was crude; just a single-track wooden covered-bridge.
When Pennsy took over Northern Central that covered-bridge bridge was removed, and trains switched over to Pennsy’s Rockville bridge.
Coal-traffic over Pennsy’s Sodus Point line burgeoned, and was well-suited for Pennsy’s Decapod 2-10-0 in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s.
The line is hilly and challenging, particularly north out of Watkins Glen to Penn Yan (“yan;” as in “Anne”), and the Deks could slug it out.
Here we have a Decapod returning empty coal-hoppers from Sodus Point back down into Pennsylvania.
The picture is marginal; it’s not Don Wood, what this calendar started with in the ‘60s.
For example the photo below, but it’s not on the Sodus Point line.

Photo by Don Wood©.

The best picture Wood ever did.
Four Deks are moving the heavy Mt. Carmel ore-train up the 1.31 percent grade of the Shamokin branch to interchange with Lehigh Valley in Mt. Carmel, two in front and two pushing.