Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Trashbags by Microsoft

There are two trash-days in my tiny rural town.
One is Tuesday, the day Pratt Disposal comes around.
The other is Thursday, when two others collect. I can’t remember their names.
We (I) use Pratt.
Unlike every other place I’ve lived, trash collection here is not a guvamint function.
City trash-trucks don’t all collect at some seedy restaurant for coffee and donuts before their rounds.
Trash-collection in West Bloomfield is private, as I think it is all over my county.
Private companies collect the trash, then take it to a public landfill.
My trash has two components, recyclable and non-recyclable.
The recyclables go in a blue plastic box.
Pratt still sends out two trucks, one for recyclables, and one for non-recyclables.
I don’t think the others do. Their single truck can accommodate both.
Two trucks by Pratt is a vestige of when recyclables used to be separated: glass, newsprint, cans, and coded plastic bottles.
Now the recyclables are all heaped together.
I guess a facility separates.
Not many recycle, but we (I) always did. Protect Mother-Earth, etc.
The glass and cans and cardboard go in paper bags, as did our paper shreddings at first.
But I switched to a plastic trashbag after the paper-bagged shreddings fell out of the blue-box during a windstorm, and blew all over our lawn.
So every Monday night I have to transfer the shreddings from my shredder to a plastic trashbag if there’s enough to trash.
I suppose I should congratulate myself I haven’t missed a trash pickup since my wife died.
Some time ago I noticed I was running out of plastic trashbags, so I purchased some more.
I am finally into those new trashbags.
So I got out a new trashbag, and set about to open it.
Guess what! It’s sealed at both ends.
I checked the box for a Microsoft label. Perhaps a suggestion I call Tech-Support in India, where I get some floozie whose command of English is little more than “I’m deeply, deeply sorry.”
Engage guile-and-cunning.
Extract scissors from kitchen-drawer, the ones for cutting open food-wrappers — the ones my wife used to claim were sanctified.
It’s only plastic film. I can cut the bag open myself.
So why do I immediately think of Microsoft?
A trashbag sealed at both ends seems like something they might do.
Some reporter timidly asks Bill Gates why his trashbags are like this.
From On-High he sonorously declares “We’re working on it.”

• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
• RE: “My county........” —I live in Ontario County in the town of West Bloomfield in western New York.
• “Bill Gates” is the head-honcho at Microsoft, and is fabulously wealthy. Microsoft is always poo-pooed as inferior to Apple Computer. I blog this to get my PC users upset. Microsoft seems to fly some computer-function that’s relatively untried, and then fixes the problems. “Windows” at first was a bog-slow copy of Apple’s operating-system, but seems to have improved. It is now comparable to Apple’s OS-X (as fast).

Monday, January 27, 2014

Adventures in a winter-wonderland


Where’s the train? (It’s in the blowing snow.) (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

Last Thursday (January 23rd) my brother and I chased trains in the Altoona area, Allegheny Crossing, where the railroad breaches Allegheny Mountain.
.....In the frigid cold.
I’ve chased trains in this area with Phil Faudi (“FOW-dee;” as in “wow”), the Altoona railfan-extraordinaire expert chasing trains in this area.
But Phil opted out because of the frigid conditions, which was just as well.
Our hands froze, our feet froze, and I got chilled.
17th-St. overpass in Altoona was worst. The temperature was about 5-10 degrees, but the wind was whipping right onto that overpass.
Phil was monitoring his rail-scanner inside his house. He also can see part of the railroad. He’d call my cellphone.
So we weren’t in the dark, just waiting clueless in the extreme cold.
We’d know a train was coming.
The railroad is also fairly busy. Phil couldn’t monitor radio-transmissions on the far side of the mountain. An eastbound might appear unknown to Phil.
I had my scanner too, but I ain’t Phil.
Phil also has the advantage of knowing what’s scheduled when. —I don’t yet.
And furthermore many radio-transmissions are lost on me. The train-engineers have to radio the signal-aspects as they proceed, and I know those locations fairly well.
So if I comprehend a signal-callout I know where the train is, and if we should wait for it.
But the engineer will also give his train-number, which triggers Phil, but for me falls flat.
So there we were, my brother and I, ramming all over the area, then freezing outside waiting for trains.
My brother is 56; I’m almost 70!
At least with Phil we’d know a train was coming. We wouldn’t give up and go warm up, all to have a train arrive while we were inside my brother’s truck getting warm.
It was so cold you had to always wear gloves, and operating a camera calls for bare hands.
Although I got so I could trip the shutter gloves-on at the end.
One jaunt, from McFarland’s Curve north (railroad-east) of Altoona down to Summerhill was about 40 miles.
That’s east-slope to west-slope of Allegheny Mountain.
And up on the mountain was 10 degrees colder than Altoona — at least on the previous day (Wednesday). Altoona seemed as cold as the mountain on Thursday.
This chase was the first since Tunnel Inn in Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin;” as in “get”) closed.
So I stayed at Station-Inn in Cresson (“KRESS-in”) on the west slope.
My brother stayed at a motel down near Altoona.
Station-Inn is a bed-and-breakfast for railfans like me.
Tunnel Inn was too, but Station-Inn is crude compared to Tunnel Inn, yet has a better breakfast.
Breakfast at Tunnel Inn was muffins and coffee made by the proprietor.
Station-Inn is a home-cooked breakfast from a kitchen. Thursday morning was pancakes, and Friday — my drive-back day — was sausage-gravy and eggs on Texas-toast.
Tunnel Inn closed because the proprietor’s children have moved nearby, and the proprietor wants to adequately deal with his grandchildren.
So Tunnel Inn becomes a residence; it was Gallitzin’s town-hall and library before the proprietor remodeled it. —That’s when Gallitzin built new town offices.
That town hall was built in 1905 by the railroad, and sits right next to tunnels the railroad had through the mountaintop.
But there was (is) a third tunnel on the other side of town. Most eastbounds use it; so not everything passed Tunnel Inn.
Station-Inn has all tracks out front. You see everything, eastbound or westbound.
I also have to worry about Station-Inn, whose proprietor is probably my age.
Running a business is a bit much for someone 70 years old.
I know he enjoys what he’s doing, but one becomes too old.
The proprietor was eating breakfast with us, and allowed how he was considering selling; mainly because of his age.
Station-Inn is very well promoted. It has a webcam, and an Internet railroad radio-feed. It caters to railfans. A typical railfan is more interested in viewing trains than enjoying gigantic TVs and air-conditioning.
The proprietor advises people use Holiday-Inn if they want TV and air-conditioning.
My brother arrived a day earlier than me, so chased trains Wednesday while I was driving down.
He had left Tuesday morning, but got tied up in traffic in north-Jersey (not a Christie bit), and also got himself on the Turnpike instead of Interstate-80.
So he only got as far west as Sunbury, PA; had to cancel his Altoona motel reservation, and motel near Sunbury.
While driving up The Hill Thursday to meet me, he found himself paralleling Norfolk Southern’s RoadRailer.
RoadRailer is highway-trailers on rail-wheel bogies.
He tried to beat it to Gallitzin, but almost failed. The picture below is what he got.


RoadRailer west. (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

Our first stop was Main St. bridge over Track One in Gallitzin.
The arguing began. My brother was driving.
“Watcha goin’ that way for? We go this way and we gotta zag all the way down to that junction on 53 with the road up into Gallitzin.”
“This way is quicker!”
“No it’s not. Portage St. is more direct. Use the expressway and Portage St.
“This way is quicker!”
I don’t think my brother knew Portage St., but we beat the train we were chasing, and my brother got the better picture.


At Main St. bridge in Gallitzin. (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

The Main-St. bridge in Gallitzin is not a Faudi-location.
What I was trying to repeat. (Photo by Bill Price.)
I was trying to reprise a picture from long ago in my All-Pennsy color calendar.
Same view, but a previous bridge.
And so began our ramming all over the area, punctuated by the freezing cold.
By now Phil had called, so our waits for trains weren’t for nothing.
15-20 minutes outside was endurable if we knew a train was coming.
All over Allegheny Crossing we charged, and it was unbearably cold.
Outside on the frozen tundra we’d stand, shoot, and then off we went in pursuit of another location.
Our travels were a chance to get warm.
Phil would call, and off-we’d-go per his advice.
We’d stand on overpasses for minutes on end, freezing; but we knew a train was coming.
Phil told us a westbound was climbing The Hill, so we stayed in Gallitzin, but went to the tunnel-mouth (Two and Three) at Jackson St. bridge.
But an eastbound coal-extra came up Two, and blocked our view of that westbound.


Here comes the coal-extra. (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

My picture below is the pushers on the end of the coal-extra.
The westbound had already cleared.


Pushers on the end of the coal-extra. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

From there we drove all over, zagging this-way-and-that.
In Altoona we went trackside by the 7th St. overpass, and I snagged the picture below.
Phil had told us it was coming; and my picture is a pot-shot.


Coal-extra on the drag-tracks in Altoona. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

(This may be the same coal-extra that blocked our view in Gallitzin.)
I had my telephoto on, and shot the locomotive as it approached.
Then as it curved away, I shot another: my pot-shot.
I have learned to “just shut up and shoot!”
I have lots of pot-shots that are my best.
We then drove up to McFarland’s Curve north (railroad-east) of Altoona. The curve is framed by a gorgeous old Pennsylvania Railroad six-target signal-bridge.
The railroad was originally Pennsylvania Railroad; now it’s Norfolk Southern.
We got a train charging under that signal-bridge, which once covered four tracks, although now it’s only three.


Under the six targets at McFarland’s. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Of those three the mainlines are to the right: Tracks One and Two.
The third track, to the left, is a siding controlled by signals.
I think from there we drove 40 railroad miles down to Summerhill on the west slope, where my brother snagged the lede picture.
At some time we also perused the Route 53 bridge over the west slope north of Cresson.
When we arrived it started snowing heavily, but I snagged the below picture.


Westbound in the snow from the Route 53 overpass. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

At this point the railroad is five tracks. The train is on Four, which is next to Three.
Then comes Two and One and Main-Eight. Main-Eight is a storage-track for trains awaiting over The Hill; usually coal-trains.
My brother is always blown away that the railroad is five tracks at this point. He’s never seen that anywhere else.
Four mainline tracks is extreme, but even then Allegheny Crossing is a bottleneck. —There’s only three tracks over the mountain.
The snow let up after this, but the good picture is in the snow.
I think Summerhill was our final stop, although my brother tried an access-road to the eastern tunnel-mouths.
That access-road merges onto the abandoned right-of-way of New Portage Railroad, incorporated into Pennsy as its Muleshoe, an alternative over the mountain to Horseshoe Curve, which is part of Allegheny Crossing.
The Muleshoe was abandoned by Conrail, a successor to Pennsy and Penn-Central. Later an expressway was built over the mountain, and it cut the Muleshoe right-of-way.
But a railroad overpass over the Muleshoe right-of-way still exists, and we drove under it.
By then our light was fading, but my brother took pictures anyway of a freight-train climbing the mountain westbound, plus another that crossed the overpass eastbound.
But there wasn’t enough light for me, or I didn’t think it was worth it.
By then it was 5 o’clock, and we had been out all day.
FREEZING!

But at least I now knew how to get to those tunnel-mouths — without a long trek in the woods.
And I had come away with at least six pictures set aside for future calendars.
And they’re snow-pictures; I had run out of snow-pictures.
The January/February/December and perhaps November entries should be snow-pictures.

• “Jack Hughes” is a brother, the fifth of my parents’ seven children. Only four are left. A brother born in 1949 died of Leukemia in 1953. A brother born in 1954, who had Down Syndrome, died in 1968. My sister born in 1945 died December, 2011. Jack was born May 16th, 1957, the first of the final wave. Two others from this wave are still alive: a brother born in 1958, and a sister born in 1961. That brother lives in northern Delaware, the sister in Lynchburg, Virginia with her husband Paul Broda. —I am first-born, 1944, and all that remains of the first wave. Those from the middle wave are gone. (Jack lives near Boston.)
• “Station-Inn” is the old Callan House in Cresson, once a trackside hotel. It was built in 1866. People would come from Pittsburgh in the summer and stay at Callan House.

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Sunday, January 26, 2014

Windoze follies

This morning’s dream was the NBC national TV-news reporting computer e-mail was giving the wrong date, January 15th instead of January 26th.
“Oh well,” I thought to myself. “Nothing new.”
My wife, who’s been gone almost two years, had a Windows PC that got the time wrong every time Daylight-Savings went on or off.
Much to the dismay of all PC users, which include my siblings, I use an Apple Macintosh.
MACs use the standard government time-server, whereas apparently Microsoft, in its infinite wisdom, has some program embedded in Windows to automagically change the time.
My wife’s PC was also getting its time from that time-server, but Microsoft sent it awry.
Her PC would always be an hour-or-two off.
My wife would try anything and everything to get her PC to give the correct time.
Configuring this way and that!
But what she ended up doing was manually forcing her PC to agree with my MAC (gasp).
The fact I use a MAC has always signaled rebellion to my siblings.
That’s probably because long ago I said MAC was superior to PC, which it was years ago, but Windows seems to have caught up.
It’s gotten so when PC users think of switching to MAC, I advise against it.
“Stick with watcha know,” I say.
Macintosh is different. My wife always found it challenging.
I stick with MAC because that’s what I know.
It also seems you have to be a techno-maven to drive a Windows PC.
I’d find my wife configuring something under Windows, and wonder “What in the world?”
Years ago I happened to drive Photoshop on a PC.
Hourglass city!
My MAC was much faster.
.....And stable = less likely to crash than a PC.
But then my wife got Photoshop-Elements for her PC, and it seemed as fast and reliable as my MAC.
My newspaper went MAC. They started with PCs, but switched. MAC was the preferred publishing platform back then.
My wife used a Windows PC because that was what her employer used.
So now I get noisy accusations of stupidity and rebellion from my siblings. The fact I use MAC signifies I’m rebellious and of-the-Devil!
That I would have the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to question their all-knowing wisdom is of-the-Devil.
Yet why could my wife’s PC never get the time right?
Were Jobs and Apple in league with the Devil? Was that time-server in Hell?

• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
• “My newspaper” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger, from where I retired over seven years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] 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.)
• RE: “my siblings.......” —I am the oldest, and somewhat unconventional.
• “Jobs” is Steve Jobs, founder and CEO of Apple Computer. Jobs is now dead.

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Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Monthly Calendar-Report for January 2014


Eastbound mixed on One passes westbound doublestack on Two at CP-W. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

And so begins my first calendar without the continuous help of Phil Faudi (“FOW-dee;” as in “wow”).
It’s also my first calendar without just my own pictures, since my brother Jack and nephew Tom were along a few times, and did pretty good.
Phil is the railfan extraordinaire from Altoona, PA, who supplied all-day train-chases for $125. —I did my first Tour almost three years ago, alone with Phil (my wife wasn’t with me), and it blew my mind.
He called them “Adventure-Tours,” and that’s just what they were, railfan overload.
Faudi would bring along his radio 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. (Phil had done the driving.)
Phil had to stop leading me around, which was what he was doing after he quit the business, with me driving.
His wife has muscular sclerosis, and was having a difficult time last year. Phil felt he couldn’t leave his wife to help me chase trains.
Which was fine. Phil and I had already chased trains quite a few times earlier, so I was using his photo-locations, which can be dramatic.
I also was getting the hang of railroad operations, so could monitor my radio-scanner fairly well.
I also had mastered mileage locations out along the railroad. The train-engineers have to call out the signal-aspects as they proceed, and some of the signal-locations go by milepost location. (I know where those that don’t are.)
When a train-engineer calls out a signal, I know where they are.
They also have to say what track they are on, which tells me if they are comin’-or-goin’.
So I no longer am in-the-dark without Phil. But I like having him along. He’s knows what is scheduled, and I don’t yet.
He also can identify a train by what it’s pulling.
Radio-transmissions can be sketchy, but when Phil hears something he can usually make sense of it.
He also is from the area, and has chased trains a lot. When he hears something, he’ll know if we have time to beat it to one of his photo-locations, and what roads to use.
I also like chasing trains with a real railfan, which Phil is.
This first photograph is by me, without Phil. It was with my brother Bill from northern Delaware and his son Tom, my nephew, early last year.
Tom is the railfan; Bill isn’t.
Phil and Tom and I chased trains a few years ago.
Bill and Tom and I went to a Faudi photo-location, CP-W, northeast (railroad-east) of South Fork, PA.
CP-W is where the old Pennsylvania Railroad had a flyover to South Fork. The idea was to keep trains for South Fork from tying up the mainline.
At South Fork a branch begins south into coal-country. The South Fork Secondary still exists, and still has four coal-loadouts.
But the flyover is long-gone. All that remains are the stone abutments.
A running-track (visible at left) from the South Fork Secondary feeds the main, and accessing it isn’t that difficult.
A train to South Fork has to use Track One to get to that running-track, which conflicts Track One.
But eastbounds can also use Track Two — with the flyover trains to South Fork didn’t need to use One.
So we all hiked down to CP-W on a Norfolk Southern access-road.
Phil wasn’t with me, but he could call my cellphone.
He couldn’t leave his wife, but he could monitor his scanner, although only the east slope of The Hill from his house.
The west slope was me, although my scanner was being difficult. I hadn’t used it enough until then, so was somewhat buffaloed.
I have it pretty well under control now, although if Phil’s around I let him do the scanner monitoring.
So there we were at CP-W on the west slope which Phil couldn’t monitor.
And I wasn’t having much luck with my scanner.
A doublestack freight passed downward on Track Two, yet here came a mixed up on Track One.
The line is still fairly busy. We managed to snag a double without Phil. —A “double” is two trains at once.



A 1969 “Dan Gurney Edition” Mercury Cyclone Spoiler. (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)

—The January, 2014 entry in my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar is a Dan Gurney Edition of a 1969 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler.
The Cyclone Spoiler is Mercury’s version of Ford’s Torino Talladega.
Both had a special bluff front-end that improved aerodynamics at top speed.
The stock Cyclone and Torino intermediates shaped their front-ends like a scoop, which slowed the car.
“Dapper-Dan” Gurney.


Gurney in the Porsche Formula-One car.
Dan Gurney was a racecar driver from my era, ‘60s and ‘70s.
Gurney, who lived in southern California, got his start in hot-rodding, but drove so well he moved up to racing.
He eventually even drove Formula-One for Porsche (“Poor-SHA”), and later made his own effort in Formula-One, the American Eagle team. I think he even won a race with that car — and it wasn’t the V8 Cosworth-Ford motor most Formula-One teams were using at that time. It was a V12 developed by his team.
Gurney is still alive; one of the few Formula-One racers that survived.
This “Dan Gurney Edition” memorializes Gurney’s many victories at Riverside Sportscar track in southern California — he won the race five times.
A Wood-Brothers entry of Gurney at Riverside.
At that time the NASCAR season began with a stockcar race on Riverside Sportscar track.
Since Gurney was a successful sportscar racer, the Wood-Brothers NASCAR team hired him to drive Riverside.
This was especially fruitful for Gurney, since Wood-Brothers concentrated on pit-work. They had reduced the time for various pit-functions, like fueling and changing tires.
A Wood-Brothers racer would pit, and spend less time in the pits than anyone else. By so doing, that Wood-Brothers racer might move up in the field, perhaps into the lead.
Now all the NASCAR teams do it. There are even competitions among pit-crews to see who is fastest.
But back then Wood-Brothers won races based on their shorter pit times.
Gurney in a Wood-Brothers car at Riverside was a winning team. And often Riverside was the only NASCAR race Gurney drove.
Gurney also had the advantage of racing sportscar tracks. He’d baby a car, and his competitors didn’t know as much. They’d burn up clutches and wear out brakes.
Gurney was always sort of a hired gun.
Other drivers often headed a team, or drove as the number-one driver for a team. Gurney’s Eagle Formula-One team was a driver-team relationship.
Gurney steps into his Can-Am McLaren at Mosport sportscar track near Toronto (“MOE-sport”). (Photo by Bobbalew.)
Gurney often drove for other teams; like Wood-Brothers or McLaren.
His driving for McLaren’s Can-Am team caused a major flap.
McLaren was tired by Goodyear; but Gurney was Firestone.
I think Gurney only did a race or two for the McLaren Can-Am team. He never won any, but could have.
McLaren was the premier Can-Am team at that time, but its number-one driver was New Zealander Denis Hulme (“Hume”).
Its number-one driver had been Bruce McLaren, but McLaren was killed when his Can-Am car came apart testing.
Gurney drove for other teams. I think he won LeMans with co-driver A.J. Foyt in a Ford Mark-IV racer. Such cars were capable of 200+ mph!
Henry Ford II (”the Deuce”) was mad because Enzo Ferrari refused to sell Ferrari to Ford. Ford’s blunderbuss effort at LeMans was the result.
It’s nice to see a Dan Gurney Edition of the Cyclone-Spoiler in this calendar.
I think the bluff front-end looks better than the stock Torino and Cyclone.
The car has the Gurney-team’s colors: white with blue trim.



More steam action on the Mighty Curve. (Photo by W.G. Fancher©.)

The January, 2014 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is another photograph of steam action at “the Mighty Curve” (Horseshoe Curve).
The December 2013 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar. (Photo by Lewis Bullock©.)
It reprises a photograph in my Calendar-Report last month of a Pennsy Decapod (2-10-0) pulling coal-hoppers, probably empty, around the Curve.
This month it’s a Pennsy Texan (2-10-4). Pennsy’s war-baby, pulling mixed freight up around the Curve.
“War-baby” because the locomotive isn’t a Pennsylvania Railroad design. Pennsy had been developing its own steam-locomotives in Altoona, its shop-town.
But during the ‘20s and ‘30s Pennsy was investing in electrification. They didn’t develop modern steam-locomotion.
When WWII broke out, Pennsy was saddled with old and tired locomotive designs, like that Decapod. WWII began a traffic deluge, so Pennsy was in trouble.
New locomotives were needed, yet the War Production Board wouldn’t allow Pennsy to develop.
A Norfolk & Western “A” (2-6-6-4). (Photo by C.L. Kayleib©.)

A Chesapeake & Ohio T-1 Texas (2-10-4).

A Belpaire Firebox on a Pennsy engine.
So Pennsy had to shop an already-developed locomotive. They tried Norfolk & Western’s “A” (2-6-6-4), and Chesapeake & Ohio’s T-1 (2-10-4).
Pennsy, scared of articulation, chose the C&O T-1, but gave it a long-distance tender, Pennsy front-end details, and a semi-streamlined cab.
Pennsy’s Texans were all built in Altoona.
But they lacked the trademark Pennsy Belpaire (“BELL-pear”) firebox.
In fact, it’s a Lima SuperPower design (“LYE-muh;” not “LEE-muh”), although C&O’s Texans were built by American Locomotive Company (Alco) in Schenectady, NY.
SuperPower was mainly aimed at increasing steam-capacity ay high speed. A SuperPower engine wouldn’t run out of steam at speed.
So slogging a heavy freight up The Hill is sort of a misapplication. Pennsy’s Texans finished on a fairly level line in Ohio where they could boom-‘n’-zoom.
Although they also finished on The Hill. —I’ve certainly flown many pictures of Pennsy Texans on The Hill.
I notice the photographer is standing right in the middle of the four-track right-of-way. It was reduced to three tracks in 1981.
Standing in the right-of-way is something I don’t do.
I don’t even like standing near the tracks.
A train might appear, and all-of-a-sudden I have to scatter.
I also don’t wanna inflame the railroad-police. Others are railfans too.
Trackside for me is about 15-20 feet from track-center, or from an overpass.
Pennsy’s Texans are long-gone; in fact, none were saved.
Many Pennsy engines were saved, and are at Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania in Strasburg, PA.
The Texans are impressive, but weren’t a Pennsy design.
But as Pennsy’s first steam-locomotive with so-called “gadgets” they abhorred, like feedwater heat, which increased efficiency, they were Pennsy’s first exposure to such gadgets — which later appeared in Pennsy locomotive design.



“Bad kitty!” (The nose-art.) (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

The January, 2014 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is one of the most dramatic pictures photographer Makanna ever snagged.

(—Actually, they are all pretty good this month, except the last, which gets by because it’s rare; one-of-a-kind.)

My Ghosts calendar is a Grumman F7F Tiger-Cat, a plane I’ve never seen, and was not familiar with.
It’s a twin-engine variation of the Grumman ‘Cat series. First was the F4F Wildcat. Then the F6F Hellcat. Finally the F8F Bearcat.
Many Hellcats were made, and saw action against the Japanese in WWII’s Pacific Theater.
All were single-engined, and the Bearcat was a real hotrod. An immensely powerful engine in as small and light an airframe as possible.
The Hellcat and Bearcat were both powered by the gigantic Pratt & Whitney Double-Wasp 18-cylinder engine, 2,100 horsepower for the Tiger-Cat and Bearcat (2,000 horsepower for the Hellcat).
The Tiger-Cat has two.
Seeing this airplane I think of a radial-engined Lockheed P-38 Lightning, which had two water-cooled V12s.
The Lightning got by calling it an “interceptor,” instead of a “fighter”-plane. It didn’t meet Army Air-Corps fighter-plane requirements.
What I notice most about this Tiger-Cat is how narrow its fuselage is: not much wider than the shoulders of its pilot.
The engine-nacelles have to be gigantic, since they’re encasing air-cooled Double-Wasp radials.
The Tiger-Cat looks more engine-nacelles than fuselage.
A Tiger-cat is bigger, than its single-engine cousins, and has more wing.
I’ve never seen one, but I’m sure I’d be impressed.
It looks lethal. Even more lethal than the Lightning, which looked graceful.
I wonder if the engines of a Tiger-Cat are counter-rotating; on a P-38 they were. The right-engine rotated the opposite of the left engine, which gave the airplane better balance.



An eastbound loaded oil-train, distributed power locomotive pushing, is actually going away. (Photo by Sam Wheland.)

—The January, 2014 entry in my Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar is actually going away.
It’s a train of loaded crude-oil tankcars; an idler-car (the faded red boxcar) is in front of of the pusher-locomotive in case of a crash.
I know exactly where this picture was taken. It’s a Faudi photo-location, the Jamestown Road overpass over the Pennsy bypass built in 1898.
The overpass is north of Portage, PA, and has eastbound Pennsy target-signals on it, 257.2.
The Pennsy targets on Jamestown Road overpass. (Photo by Tom Hughes.)
The bypass was built to circumvent difficult curvature on the original Pennsy west-slope main between Portage and Cassandra (“Kuh-SANNE-druh;” as in “Anne”).
The railroad originally went through Cassandra, and the original alignment north of Portage still exists as a branch. It was never removed because it passes Sonman Coal Tipple.
The branch re-enters the bypass at right.
The original alignment used to cross here to go up through Cassandra.
The bypass avoided Cassandra, but had to include a deep rock cut.
The cut was used to bridge a highway into Cassandra, but now that highway (State Route 53) also bypasses.
A footbridge was installed on the old bridge abutments; it is now known as Cassandra Railfan Overlook. You can just barely see it beyond the signal-bridge.
The footbridge was installed to allow Cassandra residents to get to jobs across the tracks.
But the bridge became a hangout for railfans.
A Cassandra resident noticed, started mowing the area, and installed old restaurant tables and benches.
That resident became mayor of Cassandra, and I’ve been to Cassandra Railfan Overlook many times. Above all it’s shady and you can sit.
Anything eastbound is hammering, assaulting the heavens, WIDE-OPEN climbing the west-slope of Allegheny Mountain.
This photograph was probably chosen because it depicts a new wrinkle on Norfolk Southern, the use of radio-controlled distributed power.
Railroads out west have used radio-controlled distributed power for years, often mid-train.
The locomotive depicted is radio-controlled by the head-end crew. Distributed power increases capacity and efficiency.
Railroads have found a new market moving crude-oil from well-head to east-coast refineries. —In this case, from North Dakota and Canada.
That giant conflagration in Lac-Mégantic, Quebec, involved a crude-oil train. Crude doesn’t explode, but can catch fire and flow through sewer-drains.
Apparently even the lake was afire, as burning crude flowed into the lake.
Despite those conflagrations, tons of crude are being moved by the railroads. People are agitating for the Keystone XL Pipeline, but I’m not sure that would end railroad involvement.
Many oil-refineries are on the east coast. The Keystone XL Pipeline moves the stuff south.
My December calendar-entry. (Photo by Bobbalew.)
Since the Jamestown Road overpass is a Faudi photo-location I’ve taken many photographs off it. One (at left) will be the December entry in my 2014 calendar.
But I don’t consider the location photogenic. It’s tangent (straight) track on both sides of the bridge.
It needs a lot of telephoto, as Wheland’s picture had, and even then the results are questionable.
Then too when the average railfan looks at a train-picture, they think the locomotive is in front. In this case it’s pushing.



Not bad for a ’33 Ford. (Photo by Scott Williamson.)

—The January, 2014 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a much-modified ’33 Ford three-window coupe; three windows because it lacks the two tiny windows behind each door-post that would make it a five-window.
That is, it only has three windows beside the windshield: the door-windows and the rear.
The car’s top is chopped 3&1/2 inches; somewhat extreme but not ridiculous.
The car is also devoid of fenders, but doesn’t look too bad. —I prefer fenders on ’33 or ’34 Fords. The rear drag-slicks match the body’s wheel-surround, where fenders would be hung.
The car is painted Lamborghini yellow-pearl, and has tasteful flames. Rodders tend to go overboard with flame-paint, but this looks okay. At least the flames aren’t day-glo green or blue.
The motor sets me wondering.
It’s a supercharged SmallBlock Chevy, and the exhaust is unmuffled.
To me that says “trailer-queen.” It doesn’t look like something you could enjoy on the street.
That massive supercharger is a remake of GM’s 6-71 supercharger used on 6-71 diesel engines. That’s six cylinders of 71 cubic-inch displacement.
6-71 superchargers found heavy use in drag-racing in the ‘60s. They force more intake-air into an engine.
But the owner of this car had two four-barrel carbs atop the blower (supercharger). Drag-racers usually had fuel-injection, essentially sprayers that sprayed fuel into the air fed into the supercharger.
To me this car is for drag-racing. That heavily-modified motor would be a handful on the street — unmanageable.
Cars like this, heavily modified Fords, dominated drag-racing in the early ‘50s.
But by the late ‘50s drag-racers were turning to non-Fords that were smaller and lighter, and perhaps more aerodynamic.
But it looks pretty good for a ’33 Ford. That slanted grill usually turns me off, and hot-rodders preferred the ’34 Ford over the ’33. —An example is famous hotrod builder Chip Foose.
Anyone who reads this here blog knows I consider the ’32 Ford three-window coupe the best-looking hotrod of all time.


#5800, the one-and only DD-2 (4-4-4-4). (Photo by Fred Kern.)

—The January, 2014 entry of my All-Pennsy color calendar is uninspiring.
It’s a portrait of Pennsy’s one-and-only DD-2 electric locomotive.
DD because it’s two D-model 4-4-0s articulated together. —Much like the GG-1 (“Jee-Jee-ONE;” I only say that because a friend was mispronouncing it “Jee-Jee-Eye”), which was two G-model 4-6-0s articulated together.
A DD-1. (Dave Sweetland Collection.)

This is a box-cab P-5a; there was also a steeple-cab version. (Charter.net photo.)
“DD-2” because there was a DD-1. Pennsy’s first locomotives through the Hudson River Tunnels were the third-rail DD-1s.
After the phenomenal success of the GG-1, Pennsy was trying to find a replacement for its aging P-5 electric locomotives.
The P-5s were at first passenger locomotives but since the GG-1s were so successful, the P-5s were relegated to freight-service.
The P-5s go back a long way.
Pennsy tried various experimentals to replace the P-5, but none were produced in quantity.
One angle was rectification, changing the alternating-current delivered over-the-wire to direct-current for the traction-motors.
The P-5s and GG-1 were AC.
DC is a nice idea — that’s what diesel-electric locomotives use, at least at that time; now it’s both.
But a locomotive has to be dependable. Rectification at that time was flaky.
As far as I know, the DD-2 was AC, and was built before the rectification experiments. If the DD-2 had been as successful as the GG-1 in passenger-service, it would have been built in quantity for that.
The DD-2 follows the GG-1 design principle: two independent sub-frames under a single body. But perhaps four powered wheels didn’t track as well as the GG1’s six.
5800 at Wilmington Shops, about 1959. (A rectifier-unit is at right.) (Photo by Bobbalew.)
I managed to snag the one-and-only DD-2 at the GG-1 shops in Wilmington, DE.
I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I had never seen it, so I snapped a picture. Some of the rectification experimentals were also there.
DD-2 #5800 apparently stayed in service a while before being scrapped, unlike the R-1 (4-8-4), which the GG-1 trumped.
And Pennsy expected the R-1 to trump the GG-1.
Who knows? When I saw the DD-2, it may have been out-of-service by then.
I saw the DD-2 in the shop. —And maybe the rectification experimentals were also out-of-service.
Pennsy’s E-44s. (Photo by Dave Sweetland.)
The P-5s were not retired until Pennsy fielded their new E-44 rectifier units in the ‘60s.
The E-44s stayed in service until Conrail de-energized much of Pennsy’s electrification in the ‘80s.
All that remains are -a) commuter-districts, and -b) Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor and Philadelphia-to-Harrisburg line. —Plus the lineside poles. The wire was removed.
DD-2 #5800 apparently wasn’t worth replicating.
And anyone who follows this here blog knows I consider the GG-1 the greatest railroad-locomotive of all time. It could put 9,000 horsepower to the railhead. The current General-Electric diesel is rated at 4,400 horsepower.

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It’s about time


The new Harley.

Harley-Davidson is bringing a new motorcycle to market?
A V-twin of only 500 or 750 cc s?
My Cycle-World Magazine seemed to gloss over it, but as Stevie Circh (“Kurch”) used to say at the Mighty Mezz: “Big-biggity-big!”
(Circh also said the only time the Messenger would “STOP THE PRESSES” was when Bob Hope died. Thankfully, Hope died overnight, not during a press-run.)
How will this play with the Harley-crowd, the noisy bluster-kings that claim only Harley makes a proper motorcycle?
The new Harley is 60 degrees between cylinders, not 45 degrees as Harleys have been since days-of-yore.
It’s also water-cooled (Gasp!), not air-cooled like most Harley motorcycles.
This new Harley motorcycle is aimed at foreign beginners, not the vocal Harley-crowd.
No doubt it will be labelled a pansy-bike, not a “man’s” motorcycle.
This new motorcycle is based on Harley’s V-Rod, so they say.
It also looks pretty good.
Various Japanese motorcycle manufacturers have tried to make Harley clones.
They don’t get it!
The Harleys always look better.
The Harley is a big heavy motorcycle, but the imitators always look HUGE. Some have gigantic sweeping chrome tailpipes.
Harley doesn’t make that mistake.
Just about every imitator, as does Harley, has a large barn-door fairing. But on a Harley it doesn’t look like a barn-door.
The criticism of Harley is its technology is antediluvian.
What Harley does is generate gobs of torque, torque that enhances ride-ability.
Japanese sport-bikes make much more horsepower.
Although I only had one Japanese sport-bike that wouldn’t scoot at low revs.
And that was a small two-stroke on which I foolishly installed a special exhaust-pipe that turned the bike into a light-switch.
Crank it below 6,000 rpm, and not much happened.
Get above 6,000, and hang-on-for-dear-life!
Supposedly the big Harleys are douche-bags. Not much power at high-speed, at least not that of a Japanese bike. Just sheer racket, though often with little muffling.
One night I listened to a Harley and a Jap bike doing burnouts.
The bikes were comparable; both could smoke their rear-tires.
But I doubt that Harley could get over 120.
The Jap bike was good for 180 or so.
During the ‘50s and ‘60s Harley’s competition was British, but then Honda came along about 1970.
The British motorcycle manufacturers tried to respond with Honda clones, but all failed. The Hondas were a better bike. The Brits were unreliable and difficult.
So will Harley succeed with its new motorcycle? It’s the direction to take, but will it succeed?
Harley has been around over 110 years, but for me the past 40 or so has been stuck in-a-rut.
The Brits were in a rut too, and had to leave the business.
It seems like the past 40 years Harley was stuck in the rut of catering to the Harley-crowd.
And like-it-or-not the Harley-crowd is aging.
So now I sit back and eagerly await a noisy fusillade from my all-knowing brother-in-Boston, a macho Harley-dude. He’s 56.

• The “Mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over seven years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]). Steve Circh was an editor. (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] 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.)
• RE: “He’s 56........” —At age 69 I’m the oldest.

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Friday, January 10, 2014

I can still see that oily black pillar of smoke TOWERING above that ship!

This nation is DOOMED!

The other night (Wednesday, January 8th, 2014) I happened to be watching the national TV-news.
They were covering our recent cold-snap, how it caused numerous closures and flight-cancellations.
Then they interviewed New York City cab-drivers, who noted their carries had gone up quite a bit.
As an intro they showed New York City cabs cruising the streets.
They were Toyota Camrys. (Gasp!)
Where were the Crown-Vics, the Ford Crown-Victoria sedans?
I can still see that oily black pillar of smoke TOWERING above that ship! (The battleship Arizona afire after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.)
Toyotas as cabs? The Japs won.
After my stroke back in ’93, when I hadn’t been cleared to drive yet, I had to depend on cabs to get me to outpatient stroke rehab.
The cabbies were independents driving for Cardinal-Cab.
United Way was paying the cab-fare.
All the cabs were variations of General Motors’ full-size rear-drive sedan introduced in 1976, a downsized full-size GM V8 sedan.
I remember a gold Delmont-88, a Buick Estate-wagon, and quite a few Chevys. My first cab was an old Chevy police-cruiser stripped of its lights and siren. It rode like a truck.
Its driver was always playing some motor-mouth deejay I couldn’t stand.
The only non-GM cab I remember was an old Dodge Aspen police-car, that also rode like a truck.
Later in my rehab, a lady got into the cab-business by underpricing Cardinal. Her cab was a full-size rear-drive Mercury Monarch, essentially the Ford Crown-Vic rebadged.
She loved it. She called it her “sled.” It was a good snow-car.
She still had the gray Delmont-88 she started with, but her son drove that.
That Delmont-88 was replaced with a first-generation Ford Taurus. It used less gas than the full-size GM V8 sedans.
But she wasn’t about to give up her beloved sled.
So what are they drivin’ now?
Toyotas? (Gasp!)
Admitted ’93 is over 20 years ago, and I’ve tilted toward buying Japanese instead of Chevrolet.
It’s all about dependability. I had a Chevrolet, and it lobbed curveballs at me. It always started and ran, but needed occasional shop-work. My Jap cars were never in the shop.
But seeing those New York cabbies driving Toyotas is disconcerting.
This country is doomed. General Motors is doomed.
Next thing ya know I’ll be buying a Mitsubishi.
“Mitsubishi?” a friend asked. “Weren’t they the manufacturers of the Japanese Zero?”
While working at the Messenger newspaper I befriended the press-room superintendent; a car-guy like me.
He volunteered as a trackside safety-worker at Watkins Glen Race-Course, so he worked their annual NASCAR race.
I asked him what he thought of Toyota invading the NASCAR series.
It didn’t phase him a bit.
To him it was the drivers that mattered; to me it was the cars.
As first founded, NASCAR was a venue for racing American stock-cars: Fords and Chevrolets and Plymouths. —And Dodge and Pontiac and Oldsmobile.
It stayed that way a long time, even though the racecars became non-stock, and various competitors, like Hudson, disappeared.
Even though the cars weren’t stock any more, they still were Chevrolets and Fords and Plymouths.
The car might no longer be a stock Chevrolet, but the motor was Chevrolet.
The manufacturers want to win too.
If they did, they sold more cars, particularly to would-be speed-demons.
But then Toyota entered the fray.
I can still see that oily black pillar of smoke TOWERING above that ship!
What will seal it for me is when Ontario County Sheriff retires its Crown-Vic police-cruisers.
When I see an Ontario County dippity outside on my road shootin’ radar from his Camry, it will be all over.

• The “Messenger” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over seven years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] 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.)
• “Ontario County” is the county I live in.
• Actually the police-cruisers Ontario County is replacing their Crown-Vics with are Fords and Chevrolets.

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Wednesday, January 01, 2014

2014

And so begins the year 2014, the year yrs trly turns 70.
My wife didn’t make it. She died April 17th, 2012.
I didn’t expect to be the the last one standing, but I figured I’d make 70.
80 I don’t know about. I’m falling apart, and get weaker.
My wife would have turned 70 tomorrow, January 2nd.
Relatives were always upset she waited until January 2nd, that she wasn’t the first baby in Steuben County (“Stew-BEN”) for 1944.
I wait another month, February 5th.
As far as I’m concerned I’m already 70 from the moment of conception.
I sure feel it. I have to pull myself up stairs with my arms.
I say I have attained “old-fartdom.” 60-69 was “crusty curmudgeon;” 70-79 is “old fart;” 80-on is “geezer.”
I don’t know if I’ll make “geezerdom,” but I might.
I do work-out, and am in fairly good shape for my age.
I see many others my age in worse shape than me, particularly retired bus-drivers.
Diabetes and Alzheimer’s/Parkinson’s.
No health-issues so far. I eat healthy and never smoked or pigged out on alcohol. Nor did I partake of various hallucinogens.
I used to run too — footraces.
But I’m not my wife. I don’t have her genes.
Had she not got cancer, she would have made 100.
Women in her family all made over 90. Her mother is still alive at age-97.
My paternal grandfather lasted well into his 90s, but my father died at 79.

• My wife was born in Corning, NY, which is in Steuben County.
• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. My stroke October 26th, 1993 ended that. I retired on medical-disability. I recovered fairly well. —I eat out with Transit retirees occasionally.