Monthly Calendar-Report for September 2013
(It finally happened!
The surfeit of -a) mowing, -b) various duties that came with my wife’s death, and -c) the nap requirement that came with my starting an antidepressant drug:
....conspired to make this Monthly-Calendar--Report almost two weeks late.)
(Photo by Fred Kern.)
—Here it comes! One of those gorgeous red keystone number-plates on the front smokebox-door that signified a Pennsy locomotive.
What I always looked forward to as a child.
Except this is in north Jersey as opposed to where I saw them in south Jersey.
The September 2013 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is a Pennsy K-4 Pacific (4-6-2) on the New York & Long Branch, a commuter-run from New York City.
What I saw was on Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines (PRSL; “REDD-ing,” not “REED-ing”), trains to-and-from south Jersey seashore points.
PRSL also used Reading steam-locomotives (see last month’s Calendar-report). To me they weren’t as pretty as Pennsy engines. They lacked the excellent proportions of a Pennsy engine, and also that gorgeous red keystone number-plate.
New York & Long Branch was actually Central of New Jersey. But it became a Pennsy enclave when Pennsy got trackage-rights. Pennsy had threatened to build a competing railroad. They could, and if they had it would have put New York & Long Branch out of business.
It was views like this that started my railfanning. A train was approaching Haddonfield station from the east. I could hear it coming, and see the smoke.
Haddonfield is the revolutionary town south of my home in south Jersey, where my father and I watched trains. I’d glance toward the horizon for that red keystone.
That keystone number-plate is probably industrial-designer Raymond Loewy. Prior to the keystone, Pennsy used circular red number-plates on its passenger engines. Loewy came to Pennsy styling their engines to look as good as they were.
I was scared-to-death of thunderstorms, but I could stand right next to a panting steam-locomotive. —My greatest thrill was watching them start; they usually slipped (spun their driving-wheels).
The PRSL passenger-train would stop at Haddonfield station.
There was also a pretty good chance the steam-locomotive would stop for water from the water-tower across the tracks from where we watched. (That water-tower is not visible in my “Where it all began” picture, but its standpipe is.)
I’ve been a railfan over 60 years, and to my mind that red keystone is what started it.
A Norfolk Southern mixed freight passes a stopped ballast-train along the New River near Narrows, VA. (Photo by William Oertley.)
—I was going to do my own calendar-picture as number-two until I saw this one. This is the best picture in my 2013 Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar.
It’s also the first time photographer Oertley made the calendar.
The Fall-foliage is a bit early for September — to me that’s October.
We have a double, two trains; although reportedly the ballast-train (at left) is stopped.
We’re next to the New River, and boaters were kind enough to be present.
For once we don’t have a frontal-view of a locomotive. What we have is the beautiful world Norfolk Southern travels.
In fact, were it not that the ballast-train is mentioned, I would not have noticed it.
It would have been dramatic even with a single train.
My guess is the photographer also shot the standing ballast-train, but then this mixed appeared.
Doubles are always lucky shots; I’ve snagged a few myself.
But even with a single train this photograph would have been extraordinarily successful.
The photographer has shot train-pictures a long time; he probably entered the photography-contest before.
But then he noticed this spot driving along Route 460 next to New River.
The railroad-tracks were clearly visible on the other side, and he also noticed a boat-launch.
He thought it would make a nice photograph, so he went back early one Saturday morning, and here is his result.
The best photograph is the 2013 Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar.
No fancy tricks, just a great shot.
Deuce roadster.
—The September 2013 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a very well turned out 1932 Ford roadster.
It’s very attractive to me because it’s stock-appearing. The full-fenders and running-boards were left on.
I actually prefer the Three-Window Coupe as a hotrod, but this roadster probably makes more sense.
With its top down, you could sit normally, and actually drive it — enjoy it.
With a coupe you might be sitting on the floor.
Years ago a guy showed me the five-window Milner coupe he had built (John Milner’s car in the movie “American Graffiti”).
He had to scrunch inside it, and sit on the floor.
Then too this particular car was not lowered on its frame. Its floor is probably in the stock location.
You’d be sitting on a normal seat-cushion.
This car has styling touches that look fine. That front bumper is off a ’49 Plymouth. A lot of hotrods did that.
And those wheels and tires are not stock. That stuff is much better than it was in 1932.
The windshield is slightly chopped, and the removable top is inspired by Auburn. That is, it’s not stock Ford.
But it looks fine, although you’d probably have to remove the top to avoid scrunching.
A while ago a saw a bus-driver riding in an open ’32 Ford hotrod in 30-degree weather. He was shivering, but grinning ear-to-ear. (That bus-driver has since died.)
This car has a 400-horse SmallBlock Chevy with four-speed manual floorshift, stuff I would enjoy.
Although to my mind a SmallBlock Chevy shouldn’t be souped up much. Do that, and it becomes temperamental.
I wanna drive the car.
A helper-set pushes Train 10G. (Photo by BobbaLew with Phil Faudi.)
—The September 2013 entry of my own calendar is deceptive.
It looks like the train is approaching, but actually it’s going the other way.
The locomotives are pushing the back end of Train 10G, a mixed freight, up The Hill.
We are just north of South Fork, PA. At this point the grade uphill is .63 percent, which is .63 feet up for every 100 feet forward.
That’s not too steep, but steep enough to require helpers if the train is heavy.
That is, there’s enough power pulling the train for flat running, but not enough to climb a hill.
And the grade gets steeper toward the top, 1.44 percent.
We are climbing Allegheny summit, the main impediment to railroading across PA.
Those helpers will stay on all the way down to Altoona. Down the other side of The Hill averages 1.75 percent, enough to cause a train to run away — and it has happened.
The helpers will engage dynamic-brakes to help hold back the train.
With dynamic-braking the locomotive’s traction-motors become generators, current dissipated with giant toaster-grids atop the locomotive. (General-Electric is trying hybrid locomotive technology using the current to charge batteries.)
The traction-motors resist turning; additional braking effort is generated.
The locomotives are SD40-Es, a Norfolk Southern rebuilding of EMD SD-50s to replace the aging SD40-2s that long did helper-service on The Hill.
SD-50s generated 3,500 horsepower, although at that rating its prime-mover (diesel engine) was overstressed.
The SD40-Es were downgraded to 3,000 horsepower.
The SD40-Es, and SD40-2s before them, were coupled in pairs, serving as dedicated helpers.
They get added in Altoona (if needed) for trains west, as helpers have been since the railroad opened. They’re added eastbound anywhere along the railroad clear to Pittsburgh — actually Conway Yard northwest of Pittsburgh.
Sometimes they’re added at Johnstown, and sometimes at Cresson (“KRESS-in”), just before the steep part. Cresson is where they get serviced.
A really heavy train, like a unit coal-train, might get three helper-sets, one set in front, and two sets pushing.
Out of Altoona the old Pennsy, now Norfolk Southern, is a mountain railroad. Helpers get added to move the trains.
A really big airplane. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)
—This Douglas AD-4 Skyraider is a BIG airplane.
It’s the September 2013 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar.
I compared measurements. The wingspan of an F4U Corsair is 41 feet. That of a P-51 Mustang is 37 feet and a half-inch. The Skyraider is 50 feet nine inches.
A Corsair is 33 feet four inches long, the Mustang 32 feet 9&1/2 inches. The Skyraider is 38 feet 10 inches long.
The Skyraider could fly off an aircraft-carrier, and catapults weren’t in use then.
But at 10,500 pounds the Skyraider is a lot of airplane. The Corsair weighed 8,900 pounds, the Mustang 7,125 pounds.
The Skyraider isn’t a hotrod fighter-plane.
In fact, I’m not sure it’s even a WWII warbird.
I’ll let my WWII warbirds site weigh in:
“The prototype of the Skyraider was first flown on March 18th, 1945.
Designed as a robust, multi-role attack aircraft for the U.S. Navy, the carrier-based Skyraider could carry a wide variety of weapons on its numerous wing hard points.
The Skyraider first saw combat in the Korean War, where its long loiter time and heavy load-hauling capability gave it a distinct utility advantage over jet aircraft of the time.”
There was even a version of the Skyraider (the AD-5) that could carry 12 passengers in its fuselage.
The Skyraider is more a workhorse, a fighter-bomber.
A Skyraider carrying heavy torpedoes could get sent out to attack enemy ships. A Skyraider would drop its torpedo and fly away. With any luck the torpedo would sink the ship.
You’d have to do this without engaging enemy fighter-planes. The heavy Skyraider would lack the maneuverability and evasiveness of a fighter-plane.
The Skyraider was not in my consciousness, not the same as the Corsair, the Grumman ‘Cats, or even the Douglas Dauntless.
But the ‘Cats or the Corsair weren’t fighter-bombers. They couldn’t dive-bomb or torpedo ships; that is, carry torpedoes. They could strafe a ship-deck with their machine-guns, but rarely sink a ship.
The Dauntless was a fighter-bomber, but it wasn’t the hotrod the ‘Cats and Corsair were, even though it was about the same size and weight. —Plus it was an old design.
The Skyraider more-or-less updated the Dauntless, but giving it greater bomb-carrying capacity made it a humongous airplane.
Nevertheless if you crewed an enemy ship you hoped you never saw a Skyraider dropping its torpedo at you.
About the only offset was for enemy fighter-planes to blast the Skyraider out of the sky.
Overkill! (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)
—The September 2013 entry in my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar is a 1971 Hemi® ‘Cuda (“HEM-eee;” not “HE-me”), a Plymouth Barracuda pony-car with a gigantic 426 cubic-inch Hemi engine.
It was called “the Hemi®” because it had hemispherical combustion-chambers, unlike a common V8 of that time which had all its valves in a row.
In a Hemi the valves are turned 90 degrees, and splay across the cylinder-head. That way the intake-valves aim at the intake manifold, and the exhaust-valves aim at the exhaust header.
In a common V8 with the valves all parallel in a row, the intake-valves might tilt toward the intake manifold, but the exhaust-valves tilt the same way, away from the exhaust-header.
Exhaust has to take a contorted curved path through the cylinder-head toward the exhaust-header. That contorted path restricts breathing. A Hemi breathes extraordinarily well, especially at high engine speeds.
The Hemi can generate immense power.
Chrysler’s Hemi is one of the most significant engines ever!
It’s heavy, but could be so powerful it came into use by hot-rodders, especially in drag-racing.
I remember Bill “Grumpy” Jenkins drag-racing a 409 Chevy during the middle ‘60s. He always won until the Hemi appeared. He got one himself. Nothing could beat a well-tuned Hemi.
The Hemi was so powerful it got ruled out of NASCAR. Ford had to build a hemi of its own to compete, the single overhead-cam “Cammer.” It too had hemispherical combustion chambers, plus a single overhead camshaft per head to actuate the valves.
The cost of developing a competitive NASCAR racer was escalating out of sight.
About the only way to compete with Chrysler’s Hemi was a comparable motor. Chevrolet’s Big-Block and Ford’s Cammer were Hemi competitors.
And essentially factory entries.
The little guy had been left behind. NASCAR had become factory competition.
Some of those little guys became factory drivers; people like Richard Petty and David Pearson.
But such engines had little relevance to everyday driving. They use too much gas, and were temperamental.
The Hemi had three iterations.
The earliest Hemi debuted for the 1951 model-year, an attempt by Chrysler to engineer something superior to the V8 engines sweeping car-dom post-war.
The first Hemi debuted at 331 cubic-inches, and lasted until 1958 at 392 cubic-inches.
The Hemi was costly to build, so Chrysler developed a V8 with parallel valves all in a row, like a common V8.
The Hemi had two rocker-shafts per cylinder-head, where a common V8 might have only one — or none; Chevrolet’s SmallBlock with its ball-stud mounted rockers.
Two rocker-shafts were needed for both sets of rockers, the intake-rockers and exhaust-rockers.
The intake-rockers were short, and worked backwards. The exhaust-rockers were long.
Two rocker lengths was an added cost.
A common V8 could get by with rockers identical for both intake and exhaust.
The first Hemi was retired the 1959 model-year, replaced by Chrysler’s new V8, at large displacements to make it competitive.
But racers wanted Chrysler to bring the Hemi back, or more precisely, Hemi heads for the new Chrysler V8.
That’s what was done for the 1964 model-year through 1971. That engine was iteration number-two.
That was the Hemi NASCAR ruled against. Drag-racers were using both that and the earlier Hemi.
To me the recent Hemi is Chrysler cashing in the reputation of the two earlier Hemis.
The new Hemi is still a Hemi, and quite powerful, but smaller than the 426 cubic-inch elephant-motor.
The recent Hemi addresses one of the main things wrong with the earlier Hemis: weight. Earlier Hemis, with their massive cast-iron cylinder-heads, were extraordinarily heavy. Their offset was they could generate immense power, particularly at high engine-speeds.
The recent Hemis have aluminum cylinder-heads which weigh much less though still of Hemi design.
The hemispherical combustion-chamber has become the norm for high-performance engines.
But it’s been flattened quite a bit.
In order to have high-compression, a Hemi’s pistons had to be domed to fill the combustion-chamber.
Domed pistons don’t transfer heat very well; in fact, they retain it. In order to get away from domed pistons you have to flatten the combustion-chamber.
High-performance engines have also gone to four valves per cylinder. All Hemis, even the recent ones, are still two valves per cylinder (intake and exhaust). Four valves flow more, but are costly.
With four valves per cylinder the valves are usually activated by overhead camshafts. The Hemis still use a camshaft down in the engine-block activating pushrods to the valve rockers.
Only Ford’s Cammer had an overhead camshaft, but it was single; most overhead camshafts are double — DOHC; one for each side, intake and exhaust — two camshafts per cylinder-head. And Ford’s Cammer used valve-rockers. DOHC is more precise.
The massively heavy Hemi engine in a Barracuda pony-car, makes no sense at all. About all it’s good for is straight-line acceleration. Toss it into a curve, and it will plow into the weeds.
Brock Yates, a retired editor at Car and Driver magazine, had NASCAR entrant Cotton Owens build him a Dodge Challenger pony-car years ago.
The Challenger is Dodge’s version of the Barracuda pony-car.
But it has only the 340 cubic-inch Chrysler Small-Block, souped up of course.
That Small-Block makes more sense in a pony-car than the heavy Hemi.
With a Hemi-Challenger Yates would have had a handful. A 340 Challenger would not be as fast, but would be more manageable.
Pennsy’s version of the prettiest railroad locomotive ever. (Photo by Bill Edson©.)
The September 2013 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is the most beautiful railroad locomotive ever assembled, the long-legged Alco PA passenger-diesel.
It’s not the most gorgeous version: Santa Fe’s warbonnet-painted PA.
A Santa Fe warbonnet PA. (Photo by Joe McMillan.)
What we have here is two Pennsy PAs at the station in Logansport, Indiana with Train 207, the Union, a combination of Train 307 from Indianapolis and Louisville, with 107-207 from Columbus and Cincinnati.
The Alco PAs will take the train all the way to Chicago.
“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 switching to, and changed its name to “Alco.”
Alco tanked a while ago; they never competed as well as GM’s ElectroMotive Division (EMD).
Alco built two diesel locomotives with these lines, the shorter and stubby FA (a freighter), and this long and graceful PA.
They were rushed. They were powered by Alco’s new 244 engine, and development and testing were rushed.
The two locomotives pictured are A-units; what the letter “A” stands for. The cabless B-unit was called the “PB.”
There’s dispute among railfans about which locomotive was prettier, the PA or Baldwin’s passenger Shark.
As I understand it, the shark’s styling was by industrial-designer Raymond Loewy, an attempt by Baldwin Locomotive Company to make its diesel offerings more salable.
Loewy did a good job making Baldwin’s diesels look as good as his gorgeous shark-nose T1 (4-4-4-4 duplex) steam-engine for the Pennsylvania Railroad.
To my mind, the PA wins hands down. The Shark is dramatic, but not as graceful as the PA. Furthermore the Shark’s windshield is weak. —Too much arch.
If I were panning either, I’d prefer the PA, as illustrated.
Sadly, the PA wasn’t very successful — its poorly-developed 244 engine.
It was cranky and difficult, not reliable.
Where EMD used two 1,000 horsepower V12s per unit to get 2,000 horsepower, Alco used only one V16, a turbocharged 244.
Turbochargers at that time were flaky, not as well-developed as now. After all, hot exhaust gases power a turbine that spins a supercharger — that turbo spins at very high RPM.
The turbo might blow, or not spool up as fast as it should, allowing to much fuel into the engine (not enough air), disgorging lots of black smoke. (I have video of a locomotive with a blown turbocharger; flames erupt above the exhaust.)
Then too if a train cripples out on the railroad, it plugs the railroad. You can’t just go around it; it has to be rescued.
“Send out an EMD switcher. If it had been EMD on-the-point it might not have crippled.”
Pennsy had to buy everything, reliable and unreliable. They dieselized late, and there was no way EMD could fill their huge demand.
The PAs were taken off premier passenger-service, replaced by more reliable EMD units.
The PAs emigrated to the final stomping-ground of Pennsy passenger service: commuter-trains to New York City on New York & Long Branch in north Jersey.
Another stomping-ground was PRSL, but I never saw any PAs.
The Alco PAs may have been the most beautiful railroad locomotive, but I only know of one having been saved, an ex-Santa Fe warbonnet last used on Delaware & Hudson and Ferrocarril de Mexico.
The surfeit of -a) mowing, -b) various duties that came with my wife’s death, and -c) the nap requirement that came with my starting an antidepressant drug:
....conspired to make this Monthly-Calendar--Report almost two weeks late.)
(Photo by Fred Kern.)—Here it comes! One of those gorgeous red keystone number-plates on the front smokebox-door that signified a Pennsy locomotive.
What I always looked forward to as a child.
Except this is in north Jersey as opposed to where I saw them in south Jersey.
The September 2013 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is a Pennsy K-4 Pacific (4-6-2) on the New York & Long Branch, a commuter-run from New York City.
What I saw was on Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines (PRSL; “REDD-ing,” not “REED-ing”), trains to-and-from south Jersey seashore points.
PRSL also used Reading steam-locomotives (see last month’s Calendar-report). To me they weren’t as pretty as Pennsy engines. They lacked the excellent proportions of a Pennsy engine, and also that gorgeous red keystone number-plate.
New York & Long Branch was actually Central of New Jersey. But it became a Pennsy enclave when Pennsy got trackage-rights. Pennsy had threatened to build a competing railroad. They could, and if they had it would have put New York & Long Branch out of business.
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| Where it all began. (Photo by Robert L. Long©.) |
Haddonfield is the revolutionary town south of my home in south Jersey, where my father and I watched trains. I’d glance toward the horizon for that red keystone.
 |
| (This is actually a full-size plastic casting.) |
I was scared-to-death of thunderstorms, but I could stand right next to a panting steam-locomotive. —My greatest thrill was watching them start; they usually slipped (spun their driving-wheels).
The PRSL passenger-train would stop at Haddonfield station.
There was also a pretty good chance the steam-locomotive would stop for water from the water-tower across the tracks from where we watched. (That water-tower is not visible in my “Where it all began” picture, but its standpipe is.)
I’ve been a railfan over 60 years, and to my mind that red keystone is what started it.
A Norfolk Southern mixed freight passes a stopped ballast-train along the New River near Narrows, VA. (Photo by William Oertley.)
—I was going to do my own calendar-picture as number-two until I saw this one. This is the best picture in my 2013 Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar.
It’s also the first time photographer Oertley made the calendar.
The Fall-foliage is a bit early for September — to me that’s October.
We have a double, two trains; although reportedly the ballast-train (at left) is stopped.
We’re next to the New River, and boaters were kind enough to be present.
For once we don’t have a frontal-view of a locomotive. What we have is the beautiful world Norfolk Southern travels.
In fact, were it not that the ballast-train is mentioned, I would not have noticed it.
It would have been dramatic even with a single train.
My guess is the photographer also shot the standing ballast-train, but then this mixed appeared.
Doubles are always lucky shots; I’ve snagged a few myself.
But even with a single train this photograph would have been extraordinarily successful.
The photographer has shot train-pictures a long time; he probably entered the photography-contest before.
But then he noticed this spot driving along Route 460 next to New River.
The railroad-tracks were clearly visible on the other side, and he also noticed a boat-launch.
He thought it would make a nice photograph, so he went back early one Saturday morning, and here is his result.
The best photograph is the 2013 Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar.
No fancy tricks, just a great shot.
Deuce roadster.
—The September 2013 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a very well turned out 1932 Ford roadster.
It’s very attractive to me because it’s stock-appearing. The full-fenders and running-boards were left on.
I actually prefer the Three-Window Coupe as a hotrod, but this roadster probably makes more sense.
With its top down, you could sit normally, and actually drive it — enjoy it.
With a coupe you might be sitting on the floor.
Years ago a guy showed me the five-window Milner coupe he had built (John Milner’s car in the movie “American Graffiti”).
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| The Milner coupe from “American Graffiti,” a ’32 Ford Five-Window coupe. |
Then too this particular car was not lowered on its frame. Its floor is probably in the stock location.
You’d be sitting on a normal seat-cushion.
This car has styling touches that look fine. That front bumper is off a ’49 Plymouth. A lot of hotrods did that.
And those wheels and tires are not stock. That stuff is much better than it was in 1932.
The windshield is slightly chopped, and the removable top is inspired by Auburn. That is, it’s not stock Ford.
But it looks fine, although you’d probably have to remove the top to avoid scrunching.
A while ago a saw a bus-driver riding in an open ’32 Ford hotrod in 30-degree weather. He was shivering, but grinning ear-to-ear. (That bus-driver has since died.)
This car has a 400-horse SmallBlock Chevy with four-speed manual floorshift, stuff I would enjoy.
Although to my mind a SmallBlock Chevy shouldn’t be souped up much. Do that, and it becomes temperamental.
I wanna drive the car.
A helper-set pushes Train 10G. (Photo by BobbaLew with Phil Faudi.)
—The September 2013 entry of my own calendar is deceptive.
It looks like the train is approaching, but actually it’s going the other way.
The locomotives are pushing the back end of Train 10G, a mixed freight, up The Hill.
We are just north of South Fork, PA. At this point the grade uphill is .63 percent, which is .63 feet up for every 100 feet forward.
That’s not too steep, but steep enough to require helpers if the train is heavy.
That is, there’s enough power pulling the train for flat running, but not enough to climb a hill.
And the grade gets steeper toward the top, 1.44 percent.
We are climbing Allegheny summit, the main impediment to railroading across PA.
Those helpers will stay on all the way down to Altoona. Down the other side of The Hill averages 1.75 percent, enough to cause a train to run away — and it has happened.
The helpers will engage dynamic-brakes to help hold back the train.
With dynamic-braking the locomotive’s traction-motors become generators, current dissipated with giant toaster-grids atop the locomotive. (General-Electric is trying hybrid locomotive technology using the current to charge batteries.)
The traction-motors resist turning; additional braking effort is generated.
The locomotives are SD40-Es, a Norfolk Southern rebuilding of EMD SD-50s to replace the aging SD40-2s that long did helper-service on The Hill.
SD-50s generated 3,500 horsepower, although at that rating its prime-mover (diesel engine) was overstressed.
The SD40-Es were downgraded to 3,000 horsepower.
The SD40-Es, and SD40-2s before them, were coupled in pairs, serving as dedicated helpers.
They get added in Altoona (if needed) for trains west, as helpers have been since the railroad opened. They’re added eastbound anywhere along the railroad clear to Pittsburgh — actually Conway Yard northwest of Pittsburgh.
Sometimes they’re added at Johnstown, and sometimes at Cresson (“KRESS-in”), just before the steep part. Cresson is where they get serviced.
A really heavy train, like a unit coal-train, might get three helper-sets, one set in front, and two sets pushing.
Out of Altoona the old Pennsy, now Norfolk Southern, is a mountain railroad. Helpers get added to move the trains.
A really big airplane. (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)
—This Douglas AD-4 Skyraider is a BIG airplane.
It’s the September 2013 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar.
I compared measurements. The wingspan of an F4U Corsair is 41 feet. That of a P-51 Mustang is 37 feet and a half-inch. The Skyraider is 50 feet nine inches.
A Corsair is 33 feet four inches long, the Mustang 32 feet 9&1/2 inches. The Skyraider is 38 feet 10 inches long.
The Skyraider could fly off an aircraft-carrier, and catapults weren’t in use then.
But at 10,500 pounds the Skyraider is a lot of airplane. The Corsair weighed 8,900 pounds, the Mustang 7,125 pounds.
The Skyraider isn’t a hotrod fighter-plane.
In fact, I’m not sure it’s even a WWII warbird.
I’ll let my WWII warbirds site weigh in:
“The prototype of the Skyraider was first flown on March 18th, 1945.
Designed as a robust, multi-role attack aircraft for the U.S. Navy, the carrier-based Skyraider could carry a wide variety of weapons on its numerous wing hard points.
The Skyraider first saw combat in the Korean War, where its long loiter time and heavy load-hauling capability gave it a distinct utility advantage over jet aircraft of the time.”
There was even a version of the Skyraider (the AD-5) that could carry 12 passengers in its fuselage.
The Skyraider is more a workhorse, a fighter-bomber.
A Skyraider carrying heavy torpedoes could get sent out to attack enemy ships. A Skyraider would drop its torpedo and fly away. With any luck the torpedo would sink the ship.
You’d have to do this without engaging enemy fighter-planes. The heavy Skyraider would lack the maneuverability and evasiveness of a fighter-plane.
The Skyraider was not in my consciousness, not the same as the Corsair, the Grumman ‘Cats, or even the Douglas Dauntless.
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| A Douglas Dauntless. |
The Dauntless was a fighter-bomber, but it wasn’t the hotrod the ‘Cats and Corsair were, even though it was about the same size and weight. —Plus it was an old design.
The Skyraider more-or-less updated the Dauntless, but giving it greater bomb-carrying capacity made it a humongous airplane.
Nevertheless if you crewed an enemy ship you hoped you never saw a Skyraider dropping its torpedo at you.
About the only offset was for enemy fighter-planes to blast the Skyraider out of the sky.
Overkill! (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)
—The September 2013 entry in my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar is a 1971 Hemi® ‘Cuda (“HEM-eee;” not “HE-me”), a Plymouth Barracuda pony-car with a gigantic 426 cubic-inch Hemi engine.
It was called “the Hemi®” because it had hemispherical combustion-chambers, unlike a common V8 of that time which had all its valves in a row.
In a Hemi the valves are turned 90 degrees, and splay across the cylinder-head. That way the intake-valves aim at the intake manifold, and the exhaust-valves aim at the exhaust header.
In a common V8 with the valves all parallel in a row, the intake-valves might tilt toward the intake manifold, but the exhaust-valves tilt the same way, away from the exhaust-header.
Exhaust has to take a contorted curved path through the cylinder-head toward the exhaust-header. That contorted path restricts breathing. A Hemi breathes extraordinarily well, especially at high engine speeds.
The Hemi can generate immense power.
Chrysler’s Hemi is one of the most significant engines ever!
It’s heavy, but could be so powerful it came into use by hot-rodders, especially in drag-racing.
I remember Bill “Grumpy” Jenkins drag-racing a 409 Chevy during the middle ‘60s. He always won until the Hemi appeared. He got one himself. Nothing could beat a well-tuned Hemi.
The Hemi was so powerful it got ruled out of NASCAR. Ford had to build a hemi of its own to compete, the single overhead-cam “Cammer.” It too had hemispherical combustion chambers, plus a single overhead camshaft per head to actuate the valves.
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| “Cammer” without rocker-covers, etc. |
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| With rocker-covers; but a 429. |
The cost of developing a competitive NASCAR racer was escalating out of sight.
About the only way to compete with Chrysler’s Hemi was a comparable motor. Chevrolet’s Big-Block and Ford’s Cammer were Hemi competitors.
And essentially factory entries.
The little guy had been left behind. NASCAR had become factory competition.
Some of those little guys became factory drivers; people like Richard Petty and David Pearson.
But such engines had little relevance to everyday driving. They use too much gas, and were temperamental.
The Hemi had three iterations.
The earliest Hemi debuted for the 1951 model-year, an attempt by Chrysler to engineer something superior to the V8 engines sweeping car-dom post-war.
The first Hemi debuted at 331 cubic-inches, and lasted until 1958 at 392 cubic-inches.
The Hemi was costly to build, so Chrysler developed a V8 with parallel valves all in a row, like a common V8.
The Hemi had two rocker-shafts per cylinder-head, where a common V8 might have only one — or none; Chevrolet’s SmallBlock with its ball-stud mounted rockers.
Two rocker-shafts were needed for both sets of rockers, the intake-rockers and exhaust-rockers.
The intake-rockers were short, and worked backwards. The exhaust-rockers were long.
Two rocker lengths was an added cost.
A common V8 could get by with rockers identical for both intake and exhaust.
The first Hemi was retired the 1959 model-year, replaced by Chrysler’s new V8, at large displacements to make it competitive.
But racers wanted Chrysler to bring the Hemi back, or more precisely, Hemi heads for the new Chrysler V8.
That’s what was done for the 1964 model-year through 1971. That engine was iteration number-two.
That was the Hemi NASCAR ruled against. Drag-racers were using both that and the earlier Hemi.
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| An early Hemi in a 1957 Chrysler 300C. |
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| The elephant-motor in a 1971 Barracuda. |
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| The recent Hemi. |
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| The Don Garlitz dragster; a second-generation Hemi (I think). (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
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| The Connie Kalitta dragster; a first generation Hemi. —That lump on top (the Garlitz dragster has it too) is a supercharger from a GMC 6-71 diesel-engine. It forces more air into the engine. (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
To me the recent Hemi is Chrysler cashing in the reputation of the two earlier Hemis.
The new Hemi is still a Hemi, and quite powerful, but smaller than the 426 cubic-inch elephant-motor.
The recent Hemi addresses one of the main things wrong with the earlier Hemis: weight. Earlier Hemis, with their massive cast-iron cylinder-heads, were extraordinarily heavy. Their offset was they could generate immense power, particularly at high engine-speeds.
The recent Hemis have aluminum cylinder-heads which weigh much less though still of Hemi design.
The hemispherical combustion-chamber has become the norm for high-performance engines.
But it’s been flattened quite a bit.
In order to have high-compression, a Hemi’s pistons had to be domed to fill the combustion-chamber.
Domed pistons don’t transfer heat very well; in fact, they retain it. In order to get away from domed pistons you have to flatten the combustion-chamber.
High-performance engines have also gone to four valves per cylinder. All Hemis, even the recent ones, are still two valves per cylinder (intake and exhaust). Four valves flow more, but are costly.
With four valves per cylinder the valves are usually activated by overhead camshafts. The Hemis still use a camshaft down in the engine-block activating pushrods to the valve rockers.
Only Ford’s Cammer had an overhead camshaft, but it was single; most overhead camshafts are double — DOHC; one for each side, intake and exhaust — two camshafts per cylinder-head. And Ford’s Cammer used valve-rockers. DOHC is more precise.
The massively heavy Hemi engine in a Barracuda pony-car, makes no sense at all. About all it’s good for is straight-line acceleration. Toss it into a curve, and it will plow into the weeds.
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| Yates’ Challenger. (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
The Challenger is Dodge’s version of the Barracuda pony-car.
But it has only the 340 cubic-inch Chrysler Small-Block, souped up of course.
That Small-Block makes more sense in a pony-car than the heavy Hemi.
With a Hemi-Challenger Yates would have had a handful. A 340 Challenger would not be as fast, but would be more manageable.
Pennsy’s version of the prettiest railroad locomotive ever. (Photo by Bill Edson©.)
The September 2013 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is the most beautiful railroad locomotive ever assembled, the long-legged Alco PA passenger-diesel.
It’s not the most gorgeous version: Santa Fe’s warbonnet-painted PA.
A Santa Fe warbonnet PA. (Photo by Joe McMillan.)
What we have here is two Pennsy PAs at the station in Logansport, Indiana with Train 207, the Union, a combination of Train 307 from Indianapolis and Louisville, with 107-207 from Columbus and Cincinnati.
The Alco PAs will take the train all the way to Chicago.
“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 switching to, and changed its name to “Alco.”
Alco tanked a while ago; they never competed as well as GM’s ElectroMotive Division (EMD).
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| An Alco FA unit. |
They were rushed. They were powered by Alco’s new 244 engine, and development and testing were rushed.
The two locomotives pictured are A-units; what the letter “A” stands for. The cabless B-unit was called the “PB.”
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| Baldwin passenger sharks wait at South Amboy, north Jersey, for a GG1 powered commuter-train from New York City. (Photo by Bob Crone©.) |
As I understand it, the shark’s styling was by industrial-designer Raymond Loewy, an attempt by Baldwin Locomotive Company to make its diesel offerings more salable.
Loewy did a good job making Baldwin’s diesels look as good as his gorgeous shark-nose T1 (4-4-4-4 duplex) steam-engine for the Pennsylvania Railroad.
To my mind, the PA wins hands down. The Shark is dramatic, but not as graceful as the PA. Furthermore the Shark’s windshield is weak. —Too much arch.
If I were panning either, I’d prefer the PA, as illustrated.
Sadly, the PA wasn’t very successful — its poorly-developed 244 engine.
It was cranky and difficult, not reliable.
Where EMD used two 1,000 horsepower V12s per unit to get 2,000 horsepower, Alco used only one V16, a turbocharged 244.
Turbochargers at that time were flaky, not as well-developed as now. After all, hot exhaust gases power a turbine that spins a supercharger — that turbo spins at very high RPM.
The turbo might blow, or not spool up as fast as it should, allowing to much fuel into the engine (not enough air), disgorging lots of black smoke. (I have video of a locomotive with a blown turbocharger; flames erupt above the exhaust.)
Then too if a train cripples out on the railroad, it plugs the railroad. You can’t just go around it; it has to be rescued.
“Send out an EMD switcher. If it had been EMD on-the-point it might not have crippled.”
Pennsy had to buy everything, reliable and unreliable. They dieselized late, and there was no way EMD could fill their huge demand.
The PAs were taken off premier passenger-service, replaced by more reliable EMD units.
The PAs emigrated to the final stomping-ground of Pennsy passenger service: commuter-trains to New York City on New York & Long Branch in north Jersey.
Another stomping-ground was PRSL, but I never saw any PAs.
The Alco PAs may have been the most beautiful railroad locomotive, but I only know of one having been saved, an ex-Santa Fe warbonnet last used on Delaware & Hudson and Ferrocarril de Mexico.
Labels: Monthly Calendar Report
posted by BobbaLew at 5:41 PM
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