Long-ass drive to West Bridgewater

Diesel-powered “T” commuter-train out of Boston cruises southbound on the electrified Northeast Corridor line. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

This past weekend yrs trly made a long drive to West Bridgewater, MA, to visit my younger brother.
My journey was supposed to be over a year ago, a flight, but my brother had to cancel due to his wife’s sister being hospitalized.
I had to cancel my flight reservation, and had the airline hold my charge for rescheduling.
You’re supposed to reschedule within a year, but my brother is always working. He can’t easily take time off.
So my set-aside vaporized. —No great loss, I had more-or-less forgot it anyway.
So I set about making a new airline reservation, although apparently I made the mistake of trying to reserve from a previous day’s site I had left open on this computer.
The airline is updating their site every day with new ticket pricing.
They threw an error-message at me, and suggested I call their 800-number.
I did, but after almost an hour-and-a-half on hold I gave up. —And I was using my cellphone. That’s airtime minutes.
Other factors were at play:
—1) I wanted to take this laptop, my camera, my lenses, and my railroad-radio scanner, all probably security hassles.
—2) My flight to Boston was direct, but return required change-of-planes in Philadelphia. I could store everything in my carry-on, and use the scooters, but making a plane-change with all that stuff might be a struggle at my age (70).
I decided to drive. Home to West Bridgewater would be about eight hours, 400+ miles. But most was turnpike with service-plazas where I could get out and walk around.
My brother’s wife’s sister has since died.
A trip to Altoona PA, where I chase trains — I’m a railfan, and have been since age-2 — is only five hours, but there are no service-plazas.
—And furthermore, I’m not using interstates here in New York. I could, but they’re roundabout, and take about the same time as my two-lanes.
So, I drove to West Bridgewater on Friday, May 23rd. It took about eight-and-a-half hours.
I ran into three traffic slowdowns, all of which required I stop at least once.
It was Memorial-Day weekend, but nowhere near as bad as two years ago shortly after my wife died wherein my seven-hour drive to my nephew’s wedding in northern DE turned into a nine-hour marathon, and I missed the rehearsal-dinner. During that trip I encountered numerous parking-lot traffic-jams.
Driving back from West Bridgewater Sunday, May 25th was no problem.
No delays at all.
My brother and I would chase trains all day Saturday, May 24th.
My brother has become a railfan, and has accompanied me in Altoona.
Perhaps the biggest surprise to me is how bad I’ve become on stair-steps.
My brother’s house is two stories; one has to climb stairs to get to the bedrooms.
There also is a short staircase from the garage up into the house.
My own house has everything on one floor, even the laundry and freezer, both of which are usually in the basement.
My wife and I designed our house this way by intent. The idea was to be able to stay in our house despite getting old and weak.
When I first climbed that short staircase up from the garage I knew I’d have a problem.
The long staircase to the second floor was even more a challenge. Its steeper — shorter steps — than my stairs down to my basement.
The first time I tried that staircase I was carrying this heavy laptop and my lens-filled camera-bag.
I lost my balance and started to fall.
Climbing steps at my age takes guile-and-cunning. I have to hold onto the handrail so -a) I can pull myself up the steps, and -b) steady myself.
I can’t have both hands holding a laptop and a camera-bag. I have to have one hand free to hold the handrail.
I can get up steps, but I look wobbly.
No wonder my brother’s wife carried my duffle up to my bedroom.

Our first stop the next day was along the right-of-way of the original Boston & Providence (RI) Railroad, what is now Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor to Boston.
The line wasn’t electrified, but has been recently. It doesn’t look like Pennsy’s storied New York City-to-Washington D.C. main. The railroad is only two tracks; Pennsy was four.
The electrification is not Pennsy, but looks substantial.
It’s on metal poles.
We waited a while. My brother had got schedule information about Amtrak trains and Boston’s “T” commuter-rail.
The “T” is Boston’s commuter railroad service. Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor is one of the many lines into Boston the “T” uses.
The line may be electrified, but “T” trains are still diesel. Plus “T” trains are push-pull, pulling out of Boston, and pushing in. I’d have to shoot an outbound train to have the engine leading.
Finally an outbound “T” appeared; that’s my lede picture. A northbound Amtrak Regional blasted past; Regionals often have an AEM-7 on the point.
Regionals aren’t the high-speed Acela, but they still get 125 mph. Acelas are much less frequent — a premier train. They’re good for 150, and the Corridor to Boston is good for that. Only small portions of the old ex-Pennsy main are good for 150 mph.
Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor is trumpeted as high-speed rail. But really it isn’t. There are too many tight curves and complicated junctions, plus tunnels in Baltimore built in the 1800s.
The only proper way to do high-speed rail is a completely new railroad. —Fortunately, the old Boston & Providence was straight enough for high-speed rail. Speeds on the new electrification into Boston are high-speed rail.

We then drove to the storied Canton Viaduct.
It opened in 1835, and is still in use. In fact, the Boston & Providence was finished with completion of the Canton Viaduct.
It’s stone, averaging about 60-70 feet high.
It’s not that long, but crosses the valley of the Canton River, and the east branch of the Neponset River.
About 30 years later, a railroad might have crossed with a fill, and Amtrak had to make the viaduct capable of handling Amtrak fliers.
It was first proposed to descend and climb out of the valley with inclined-planes.
But another inclined-plane railroad had an accident, so the viaduct was built.
I kept being smitten how impressive the viaduct is, and my wife was missing it.
But photographing a train on it is near impossible.

ZOOP! (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

Here it comes! (Photo by Bobbalew.)

The trains go so fast, you have no warning down below. My brother and I tried to shoot Acelas. My brother’s shot is only a northbound snippet. Mine, bottom-left, is only slightly better.
I did fair, but the way to do it is to be trackside with your camera down where it needs to be with a radio-controlled shutter-trip. And motor-drive; that is, 6-10 shots in quick succession. With that, you might snag a successful shot.

We then moved to our next location, namely the “T” station in Sharon on the Northeast Corridor. There at least you have indication something is coming; the station PA warns a train is approaching.
My brother’s schedule-info said an Amtrak Regional would pass, plus some “Ts” would stop.
Amtrak was late. We hiked here-and-there, but nothing.
It looked like the “T” would be ahead at Amtrak, but suddenly here it came!
Amtrak doesn’t stop at Sharon. 125 mph!
I had planned to multiple-shoot it to get it close enough, but didn’t even have my camera on.
My brother did, but his camera won’t shoot multiple shots. Which you almost need with a train bearing down on you at 125 mph.
My brother waited until the last possible instant, and snagged an excellent picture.


STAND BACK! (Photo by Jack Hughes.)


We then moved on to Framingham. CSX, who now owns the old New York Central Boston & Albany line, no longer runs into Boston. In fact, its Boston yard-property was sold.
CSX now just runs to Framingham, then hands over freight-cars for southern MA to its own smaller operations.
There apparently is also an intermodal terminal, although we didn’t see it. That’s how New York City operates: after the intermodal terminal the stuff gets trucked into the city — in this case, Boston.
So CSX no longer runs into Boston on the Boston & Albany, but Amtrak runs trains, as does the “T.”

GP40-2s await next week. (Photo by Bobbalew.)

We then went to Framingham’s “T” station. My brother got a pretty good picture, as did I.
I also got others at Sharon.
But I don’t run any because I think the “T’s” paint-scheme is awful. It’s that purple color, which is also on the coaches as a window-stripe.
My lede picture has a “T” locomotive pulling single-level coaches. We also saw bi-level coaches at Sharon and Framingham.
And the “T” still has diesels — no electrics on the Northeast Corridor line. Only Jersey Transit has electric locomotives, and also the Maryland Area Regional Commuter-rail (MARC).
And the “T’s” diesels are very definitely commuter-locomotives. They have secondary generators that run at full revs, even at stops, to supply head-end power.
What blew me away is that Canton Viaduct. Would that my beloved wife could have seen that.
My brother and his wife also have a dog, a 100-pound Labrador Retriever name “Brady.”
Brady gave me hearty welcome as I strode in, then decided I was okay, since I’m a dog-person. That is, unlike my brother, who believes in a well-applied foot, I pet the dog.
Yippee; a male that pets instead of kicks.

• RE: “I’m a dog-person.....” —My current dog is “Scarlett” (two “Ts,” as in Scarlett O’Hara), a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s almost nine, and is my sixth Irish-Setter, a high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder.] By getting a rescue-dog, we avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad. She’s my fourth rescue.)

Flint car-show

(That’s nearby Flint, NY)
(And wherever you are, “Camerabanger,” gimme a snail-mail address, and I’ll send a calendar. —I don’t think I ever had it.)


My friend Jim LePore, and his Camaro-SS. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

About a year ago I met a guy named Jim LePore (“luh-POOR”) at a church-sponsored grief-share we were attending at that time.
Like me, Jim lost his long-time wife, Jim 51 years, me 44.
Jim’s wife died a month-or-two before I met him; my wife died a little over a year before.
Jim was distraught; I thought I could help him — after all, I too was distraught right after my wife died.
“Help” is a relative term. About all I could do was understand.
Jim and I are both car-guys; that is, we’re very much into cars. I dragged out some of my old car-pictures and car-books.
Jim had been eating dinner at a restaurant near Canandaigua before going to the grief-share, so his daughters suggested I join him.
I began eating out with Jim every Wednesday afternoon before the grief-share.
Jim and I both stopped attending the grief-share, but we still do dinner at that restaurant every Wednesday.
Eating-out is also a meal I don’t have to prepare, plus we shoot the breeze. Another lady, who lost her husband, also attends.
Car-guy Jim had apparently been considering buying a new car, a hotrod, since his wife died.
He finally did. He was planning to buy a new red Camaro, but then this white one showed up as a trade.
It’s used, but only 9,000 miles. The guy who owned it before stored it during Winter, and never drove it in rain.
So now Jim has his shiny new Camaro, an SS (“Super-Sport”) with the Corvette motor.
It’s fun to drive, but Jim would also show it.
He noted his first car-show was coming.
He said it would be May 10th, but later discovered it was Sunday, May 18th.
The car-show was more a “krooze,” a chance for car-guys to get out their iron and display it at the show.
And Jim would display his Camaro.
It’s also a chance for car-guys to shoot the breeze.
The show would be at a technical-school in nearby Flint, NY, perhaps 50 minutes from my house.
The restaurant is a half-hour away. I live in a very rural setting.
When I arrived, I had no idea where Jim was, and there were 89 bazilyun cars.
So I called his cellphone.
Jim is hard-of-hearing, so our cellphone conversation was marginal.
I also was hobbling; my left knee is hurting.
Jim said something about “second driveway,” so I hobbled into what looked like a second driveway.
I started down a long line of hotrods and customs, some decrepit-looking.
A gorgeous red ’32-Ford three-window coupe with Chevy motor drove in and parked.
Some of the car-shows I’ve been to allow me to vote “Best-in-Show.” The red coupe, depicted below, was “Best-in-Show” for me.
As I continued, I noticed a white Camaro, but wasn’t sure it was Jim.
But I noticed Jim’s wife’s name, “Shirley,” painted on the rear bumper. That’s Jim’s car.
I ambled over, found Jim, and took a seat.
There is at least one thing to say about this show: engines were on display.
If the engine wasn’t already out in the open in a hotrod, everything else had their hoods open.
Even the stockers, and there weren’t many.
That gorgeous baby-blue led-sled depicted below was one of the few cars with its hood not open. But soon its owner appeared, and yawned open the entire front-end, fenders and all, hinged at the front.
Inside was a beautifully detailed SmallBlock.
There were other standouts. One was a ’54 Ford two-door with a whooping 427 cubic-inch side-oiler, the engine Ford once raced with.
It was frightening!
And then there was the ratty ’64 Plymouth with a 426 cubic-inch Hemi (“hem-eee;” not “he-me”).
And then there were the various cars with the old Chevy Stovebolt six.
That yellow “Advance-Design” pickup depicted below had a Stovebolt.
I also came across a puke-green ’51 Chevy Fleetline fastback. Its Stovebolt was hot-rodded with two carburetors.
Jim’s Camaro was one of the newest cars there. But there were others.
I noticed a black Camaro-SS similar to Jim’s, and also came across a new “Boss-302” Mustang.
I also saw something with the new Hemi, 392 cubic-inches.
Sorry Chrysler, but the new Hemi ain’t the old Hemi.
I also saw something with an original Hemi wedged in, 1957 or 1958.
For me, the most memorable Hemis were middle and late ‘60s: Chrysler’s B-block with hemispherical heads.
The elephant-motor.
Recent Hemis are really just a souped-up motor with hemispherical heads.
It’s pretty good, but it’s Chrysler cashing-in on the old Hemi’s reputation.
But at least the heads are aluminum, not heavy cast-iron like the earlier Hemis, which weighed a ton.
Jim and I sat together in the blazing sun; Jim had forgot his hat.
We ambled around some, me hobbling slowly.
Referring to the T-bucket hotrod: “It ain’t bad, but I have to watch it; it can get squirrely.”
I got down to photograph that red ’55 Chevy two-door sedan, but could hardly get up.
Jim and I got cheeseburgers from a stand manned by school-students. It took a while because others were getting our cheeseburgers.
It was car-guy Heaven. The racket was glorious, and ‘50s rock-and-roll was blaring on the P.A.; including Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry.
Engines were making heavy induction-noise; extreme air-intake even at idle; loud sucking.
Jim noted the plethora of gigantic engines; 427 cubic-inches or larger.
You don’t see displacements like that nowadays. That’s maybe five miles-per-gallon polluting the air we breathe.
“Well,” I thought to myself; “fast cars have been replaced by fast gaming. Hot-rodding is about done. —Fast cars are no longer appealing, with traffic so clogged you can no longer drive fast.
Auto-travel is being replaced by computerized commuting, with little input from the driver. —It’s called ‘accident-avoidance.’
What matters any more is not how much horsepower you can generate, but how fast and powerful your computer is: gigs and RAM.
And the average dude can do that; all it takes is money, what fueled the hot-rod craze.
Springsteen’s ‘Hemi-powered drones’ were replaced by the iPhone.”
As I walked out, I watched a pretty red Model-A four-door sedan, erect as a phone-booth (remember phone-booths?), late and redirected to the display-area entrance, back up, turn around, and then roar out onto the highway.
Probably a Chevy SmallBlock motor.


The baby-blue Led-Sled — chopped and lowered. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


A T-bucket. Look at the tires! No wonder it can get squirrely.(Photo by BobbaLew.)


No manure in this baby. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


A ’41 Chevy, the most popular used-car of all time. This one was a coupe, our family had a four-door sedan. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


I can see patrolling in a Buick RoadMaster (four-holer), but a four-door hardtop? (Photo by BobbaLew.)


’34 Ford custom. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


The purple Led-Sled (more a Jimmy Dean Merc). (Photo by BobbaLew.)


A stock Model-A Ford two-door sedan — Henry’s lady. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


Chevrolet’s “Advance-Design” pickup. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


Bone-stock ’55 Chevrolet Bel Air two-door sedan; how often do you see an unmodified ’55 Chevy? (Although I don’t see the front fender-trim that starts at the headlight, which makes me wonder if this is actually a Two-Ten with Bel Air rear-fender trim.) (Photo by BobbaLew.)


Best-in-Show (a ’32 Ford three-window hotrod). —If it were “For Sale,” I’d offer. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

(Jim’s Camaro won an award [a plaque]: “outstanding vehicle.”)


“Outstanding vehicle.”


• RE: “Led-sled......” —Used to be auto bodywork was done with melted lead filler, molded and shaped. Now it’s “Bondo” plasticized fiberglass. The “Led-Sleds” pictured may have been done the old way, but if not, they’re still called “Led-Sleds.” —Heavily customized ’49-’51 Mercuries are called “Led-Sleds.”
• The Chevrolet “SmallBlock” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first to 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured. The Chevrolet “Big-Block” V8 was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches, and was unrelated to the SmallBlock. It was made in various larger displacements: 402, 427 and 454 cubic inches. It’s still made as a truck-motor, but not installed in cars any more; although you can get it as a crate-motor, for self-installation. The “Big-Block” could be immensely powerful, and the “SmallBlock” was revolutionary in its time.
• The Chevrolet overhead-valve inline “Stovebolt-six” was introduced in the 1929 model-year at 194+ cubic inches. It continued production for years, upgraded to four main bearings (from three) for the 1937 model-year. In 1950 the Stovebolt was upsized to 235.5 cubic inches (from 216), and later upgrades included full-pressure lubrication and hydraulic (as opposed to mechanical) valve-tappets. The Stovebolt was produced clear through the 1963 model-year, but replaced with a new seven-main bearing (as opposed to less — like four) inline-six engine in the 1964 model-year. The Stovebolt was also known as “the cast-iron wonder;” called the “Stovebolt” because various bolts could be replaced by stuff from the corner hardware.
• RE: “Advance-Design.....” —Chevrolet’s trucks from 1947 through 1953 were called “Advance-Design.”
• RE: “Puke-green.....” — A family expression, referring to a grayish-green color tinged slightly yellow that looked the color of vomit.
• RE: “Fleetline fastback......” —General Motors marketed fastback sedans from 1949 through 1952. The car’s roof flows uninterrupted into the trunk. GM also marketed fastback sedans among its early postwar offerings, cars based on pre-war designs. Chevrolet called ‘em “Fleetlines.”

They never can leave well-enough alone

Yrs trly worries about “improvements” to the sites I use.
You’re looking at one now: BlogSpot.
I store my image-files at PhotoBucket. BlogSpot gets them from an http address.
We’re about due for “improvements.”
Dread!
As I recall, BlogSpot changed their interface since my wife died. I managed to figure that out myself. Before it was my wife and I together.
PhotoBucket changes their interface fairly often, but only slightly. There have been a slew of tiny interface-changes since my wife died, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I use PhotoBucket only because BlogSpot’s image-storage, which I think is Picassa, went south on me.
I might have maxxed it out. They didn’t tell me. It just stopped working one day.
My wife was still alive at that time. We switched to PhotoBucket.
What I fear most is -a) PhotoBucket maxxing out, and/or -b) BlogSpot initiating something I can’t handle.
The techno-mavens are at it again!
What’s trumpeted as “an improvement” is often something I can’t figure out.
Caring-Bridge did that recently. They instituted some “improvement” which ends up being a curve.
Caring-Bridge was the site my wife used to update people on her cancer.
I now have another friend with cancer, and he uses Caring-Bridge.
I fired up his Caring-Bridge the other day, and WHOA! What do we have here?
Caring-Bridge has done at least three “improvements” since my wife died, and each one I’ve been able to figure out.
I’m not sure about this most recent “improvement.” I think I’ve figured it out, but I have questions. I ain’t sure I’m seeing it all.
So I worry about these blogging sites.
I figure they’re about due.
They never can leave well-enough alone.
And now PhotoBucket is blasting me with ads. It didn’t before.
If this blogging all-of-a-sudden stops, it’s likely because the sites I use instituted some “improvement.”
I used to use a web-mail called “My-Way.”
All-of-a-sudden they “improved” it, making it so slow and unfriendly I split.
I didn’t want to, but it was awful.
Apple-Computer is now trying to get me to upgrade to a new OS-X called “Maverick.”
PASS!
I remember what happened when I installed “Lion.” It lunched a slew of my functions. —Back to “Snow-Leopard.”
Nothing doing, Apple. So much for “Lion,” so much for “Maverick.”
As a friend says, quoting an old Henry Ford maxim: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

Transcontinental Railroad

The classic photo of the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad. (Photo by Andrew J. Russell.)

On the 10th of this month, 1869, 145 years ago, the Transcontinental Railroad was completed in Promontory, Utah.


Another view (looking east; Central Pacific’s “Jupiter” is at left).

Now that transcontinental travel is so easy, the significance of a transcontinental railroad isn’t much.
Before the Transcontinental Railroad, travel from coast-to-coast took about five weeks.
The Transcontinental Railroad reduced that to five days.
Now I can fly coast-to-coast in about five-six hours.
I could probably drive it in about two-three days. An Amtrak passenger-train might take three days.
The Transcontinental Railroad made cross-continent trade possible.
One could also say it united our country. Without it we might have ended up two countries: east and west coasts.
It also made trade along the way possible, trade with our nation’s interior.
Two railroad organizations completed the Transcontinental Railroad.
Central Pacific worked east from Sacramento, and Union Pacific worked west from Omaha, Neb.
Union Pacific still exists. Central Pacific  became part of Southern Pacific, which merged with Union Pacific not too long ago.
Central Pacific had the most difficult segment.
East of Sacramento one encounters the lofty Sierra Nevada mountains.
They could have taken an easier route up Feather River canyon, but that was prone to washouts.
So up and over the Sierra Nevada.
Plus the Sierra Nevada got a lot of snow in Winter.
Snowsheds had to be built, and a terminal at the top of the crossing had to be fully enclosed.
I remember a Southern Pacific passenger-train getting stuck in a Sierra Nevada snowstorm back in 1952.
Union Pacific had it easier. They took a route over the Continental Divide in Wyoming that avoids the Rocky Mountains.
Most of that route is still used, but parts were abandoned.
Union Pacific built bypasses later, although they could pretty well lay their original track right on the land without cutting or filling.
Union Pacific crosses the Continental Divide at aver 8,000 feet, but the approaches are gentle.
The Sierra Nevada was a struggle every inch of the way.
The alignment through the Sierra Nevada was by Theodore Judah, chief-engineer for Central Pacific.
He was also a major driving force for the Transcontinental Railroad.
It was he that got four merchants in Sacramento to build Central Pacific.
It was also he that persuaded the U.S. government to build a transcontinental railroad.
The Transcontinental Railroad was pretty much a government enterprise. It wasn’t private enterprise.
The government promoted a transcontinental railroad by granting vast tracts of land for the railroad to build on and sell.
CONSERVATIVES trumpet this as a triumph of private enterprise.
But really it’s not. It’s government largesse to attract promotors.
Giant grants of land for promotors to pig out on.
Private enterprise refused to build it.
With all the noise we hear about unfettered private enterprise, it wasn’t private enterprise that got the Transcontinental Railroad built.
The Transcontinental Railroad still exists, although of course other transcontinentals were built, including over the Rockies, and up Feather River canyon.
Union Pacific’s mainline out of Omaha is extremely busy, although the line over the Sierra Nevada is more secondary. It’s too difficult, and furthermore most railroad traffic comes out of Los Angeles and San Diego, not San Francisco.
Promontory was also bypassed. Southern Pacific built a long trestle over Great Salt Lake. It’s now a causeway, but a challenge to maintain because of washouts caused by wind and water.
Only a few miles of track remain at Promontory, and they don’t connect to anything. The track is only for a historical display memorializing completion of the Transcontinental Railroad.
Two recently-built steam-locomotives are on hand to re-enact completion.
The locomotives are Central Pacific’s “Jupiter” and Union Pacific’s “#119;” the locomotives that long ago touched noses with the driving of the last spike.
Of interest, the last spike was gold-plated iron — a completely gold spike was too soft.
And it was engraved with May 8th, 1869; the ceremony was delayed to May 10th.
The “last spike” was driven by Leland Stanford, one of the original promotors of the Central Pacific.
He missed, and hit the rail instead.
Supposedly a trackworker had to hammer home the last spike, although I’ve seen various recountings of the ceremony with pure-gold spikes dropped into a pre-drilled faux tie.
“Jupiter” and “119” are not the original locomotives.


Jupiter and 119.

They sit out in the middle of nowhere to re-enact a historic achievement.
I’ve seen it myself. Tiny threads out in the emptiness.
The interior of this nation is huge and vast.
Set off a nuclear warhead out there and it would look like a firecracker.
I noticed the tiny thread moving. It was a train on the Transcontinental Railroad.


(Photo by BobbaLew.)

Mustang

On April 17th, 1964, 50 long years ago last month, Ford Motor Company debuted its Mustang at the New York World’s Fair.
The Mustang is a landmark car, although I always felt it was a little after my time.
1964 is my sophomore year of college. My high-school years were 1959-1962, shortly after Chevrolet introduced its phenomenal SmallBlock V8 for the 1955 model-year.
“SmallBlock” is a late ‘60s term, after Chevrolet launched its new“Big-Block” V8 in the mid-‘60s.
The SmallBlock was a game-changer. It more-or-less put Ford’s Flat-head V8, the foundation of hot-rodding, out to pasture.
Hot-rodders were ripping out their souped-up Flat-heads to install Chevy’s SmallBlock.
The SmallBlock responded well to hot-rodding. Plus they were light and cheap and small. And above-all they’d rev. With their light-weight valve-gear, they’d rev like European sportscar engines, the Ferrari and Alfa-Romeo.
So what I wanted all through high-school is something with a SmallBlock Chevy, like the white ’55-Chevy Two-Ten hardtop pictured.


(Photo by BobbaLew.)

It had a 283-cubic-inch SmallBlock V8, plus a four-on-the-floor Corvette transmission.
The SmallBlock was such a success Ford more-or-less copied it.
Ford’s Y-block V8 of 1954 was a disaster compared to Chevy’s SmallBlock.
Ford developed a SmallBlock of their own by the early ‘60s.
So Chevrolet had the motor to do an attractive sporty-car, but they missed the boat.
Ford’s Mustang came first. GM responded with the Camaro and Firebird, but two years after Ford’s Mustang.
GM should have seen it. Its Corvair sold well as a sporty-car as well as an economy-car.
But the Corvair was weird. With its air-cooled motor out back, it was meant as a Volkswagen Beetle clone, but also sold as a Porsche (“poor-SHA”) clone.
Ford’s Mustang, a takeoff of the Ford Falcon, was more normal. Its engine and transmission were up front, unlike the Corvair.
It could generate heat.
Gasoline-burning heaters for the Corvair were marketed. With air-cooling there was no hot engine-coolant to circulate in a heater-core.
What heat you got, and there wasn’t much, came from engine-cooling air blown into the back of the car.
I had a Corvair myself, and it was frigid. Windshield defrost was my breath.
At least with a Mustang you weren’t making excuses.
It could be used as a normal car.
Yet it looked great. Its passenger compartment had been moved back relative to the Falcon, so it had the “long-hood-short-deck” look of a sportscar.
Chrysler more-or-less debuted the concept of the sporty-car two weeks ahead of Mustang with it’s Plymouth Barracuda, a variation of its Valiant economy-car.
The Barracuda lacked the long-hood-short-deck look. Chrysler had to redesign its Barracuda to emulate the long-hood-short-deck look.
The Mustang almost didn’t make it. Ford CEO Henry Ford II (“the deuce”), grandson of Henry Ford the founder, was hesitant after the Edsel debacle. Market-research said the Edsel would succeed, yet it failed miserably.
The Mustang may have been a Falcon remake, but it was a standalone car. A giant gamble for Ford Motor Company.

Lido (years ago).

But Lee Iacocca could see the market.
The public wanted a sporty-car, yet GM’s Corvair was weird, and its Corvette was over-the-top. Plus the ‘Vette lacked four seats.
Ford’s Mustang was a smashing success.
GM and Chrysler were caught with their pants down.
GM had to re-engineer its Chevy-II compact into the Camaro, and dump its Corvair.
Chrysler had to give up on its original Barracuda, and engineer a new sporty-car out of intermediate (larger) components.
Ford’s Mustang has continued production 50 years. Camaro bailed for a while, but has since been reintroduced.
Chrysler’s sporty-cars, its Barracuda and Dodge Challenger, also bailed, but the Challenger has been reintroduced. (Plymouth is gone.)
Over those 50 years Mustang became bloated and heavy. The first cars were best, although by 1971 the Mustang had grown too big and was no longer attractive.
Then there were the Pinto years, when Mustang was a Pinto derivative.
It was a return to basic smallness, except the Pinto was a slug.
Mustang then became a variation of the Ford Fairmont platform.
It was even marketed as a police-car.
Such cars had the hot-rodded 5-liter Ford V8, and a regular consumer version was available.
With that motor, Mustang returned to being a sporty-car.
In 2005 Mustang was reintroduced as a “retro” car. It looked like the original Mustang, yet was on a modern chassis.
I’d get one myself — it is attractive — but it’s still on a solid rear-axle. It needs Independent-Rear-Suspension. Supposedly a new version will be introduced in a year or two, and that will have Independent-Rear-Suspension.
Ford’s V8 motor, a double overhead-cam 32-valve engine, available in current Mustangs, is what GM’s SmallBlock should have become.
The SmallBlock, now almost 60 years old, is impressive, but Ford’s V8 skonks it.
Every once in a while I hear a double overhead-cam 32-valve Ford V8 being wound through the gears: glorious!


The first Mustang (’64&1/2 through ’66).


The second Mustang (’67 and ’68) — not as good as the first.


The most desirable Mustang (’69 and ’70). —This is a ’70 Mach-One, the car I’d choose.


Too bloated; it’s becoming a Thunderbird, no longer a sporty-car.


A Pinto-based Mustang — Mustang-II.


(’85-’86.) Back in the right direction, based on the Fairmont platform.


The police-car Mustang.


Not bad, but not as good as the first. The proportions are debatable.


First of the gorgeous “Retro” Mustangs. The Retros began in 2005, and were slightly rebodied in 2010 — although they don’t look as good as the first retros.

During 1969 and 1970 Sports-Car-Club-of-America (SCCA) put on a road-racing series for Mustang type cars — “pony” cars. It was called “Trans-Am.”
Just about every brand was racing, Camaros, Firebirds, Chrysler’s Barracuda and Challenger, even AMC Javelins.
It was some the greatest road-racing of all time.
Since the cars were essentially modified stock, an entrant could use his NASCAR tricks.
Old NASCAR racer Bud Moore fielded a team of Boss-302 Mustangs, and in my humble opinion his cars were fastest.
Anything entered by Roger Penske (“penn-ski”) driven by Mark Donohue, first Chevrolet Camaros, and then AMC Javelins, was probably as fast, but Moore’s Mustangs were mind-blowing!
The factories were involved, and the “Boss-302” (302 cubic-inches) was essentially Ford’s entry.
Moore’s Boss-302s were raced by Parnelli Jones, winner of the 1963 Indianapolis 500, and sportscar racer George Follmer as the number-two driver.


George Follmer in a Bud Moore Mustang at Bridgehampton Raceway out Long Island. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Every once in a while you’d see a stock Boss-302 racing Trans-Am. They were nothing compared to Moore’s Boss-302s.
In 1969 I was at a Trans-Am race at Bridgehampton Raceway. Jones and Follmer had the front row; Jones the pole.
I was past a downhill curve after the start-straight. Race started Jones and Follmer came over the crest into the blind downhill curve FLAT-OUT, 165 mph, no quarter AT ALL!
I will never forget it! That’s goin’ to my grave.

Chick-magnet

Jim’s new car.

Every Wednesday night I eat out at a restaurant with a guy like me who lost his wife.
I met him about a year ago at a church-sponsored grief-share we were attending at that time.
He was distraught, so I thought I could help him. I too was distraught right after my wife died.
The restaurant is just east of Canandaigua, so I pulled into its parking-lot after my long half-hour trip.
Jim’s truck was not there, but the white SS Camaro pictured above was.
So I pulled in behind the Camaro, and glanced at it as I headed toward the restaurant entrance.
I figured Jim was not there yet, but he was sitting at our usual table.
“Where’s your truck?” I asked.
He pointed at the Camaro.
“You bought that thing?” I said. I shook his hand.
Jim and I are both car-guys.
“What motor?” I asked.
“6.2 liters, the Corvette motor,” he said.
A lady who eats with us, who lost her husband, walked in, so Jim waved.
“So where’s your truck?” she asked.
I hadn’t sat down yet, so I pointed outside to the Camaro.
“Oh, a pretty white Camaro,” she said.
“Not just any Camaro,” I said. “An SS.”
“I don’t know all that letter stuff,” she meekly commented.
“Actually, it’s not new,” Jim said.”It’s 2010.
But the guy who owned it before me never drove it in Winter. He stored it, like I will do. It’s a used car, but it only had 9,000 miles.”
Jim is age-70, slightly older than me. (I’m also age-70.)
I could say something about old geezers like us buying cars deserving youngsters can’t afford.
“You only live once,” the lady said.
“I’ve thought about doing that,” I said.
“I now have a two-car garage with only one car in it. When my wife was alive we had two cars.
If I had had any idea what was gonna happen, I would have made an offer.”
Right after my previous hairdresser’s wife died, he bought the car of his dreams, a red C-2 Corvette Sting-Ray, ’67, 327 four-on-the-floor, four-barrel carb, no fuel-injection.
Extremely desirable.
He had to sell his ‘Vette after he remarried.

My old hairdresser’s ‘Vette (the actual car).

Fuel-injection Corvettes are more collectible, but the old GM fuel-injection can be a hairball.
I want to drive the sucker, not repair it.
And the average mechanic is intimidated.
The reason I didn’t make an offer was because I had two cars. I had no idea where I’d store it.
With my wife gone, I’ve been thinking about a Porsche (“poor-SHA”) Boxter, the mid-engine sportscar Porsche sells.

The second-generation Boxter.

“So where do you put your dog?” the lady asked.
“That’s one consideration holding me back,” I thought.
“Beyond that,” I said; “that’s 60, 70, 80, 90,000 dollars for a mere toy.”
“I’ve been thinking of getting another convertible,” the lady said.
“Yeah, but how sensible is that,” I asked; “when you’re more inclined to close the windows and turn on the air-conditioning.
A top-down convertible will muss your hair,” I added.
“Plus if the sun is out, you bake!” the lady said.
“The speedometer on that thing goes to 185 mph,” Jim crowed.
“Where ya gonna do that?” I screamed. “And at that speed the car flies, and then flips.”
“When ya gonna take me for a ride?” his daughter asked. She eats with us occasionally.
“What is it with these old guys?” the lady asked. “Their wife dies and they buy a sportscar.
You should name your car,” the lady added. “You could name it Shirley after your late wife.”
“I bet she’s spinning in her grave,” Jim guffawed.
“It’s a chick-magnet,” our waitress declared.
“I been thinkin’ about it the past three months,” Jim said.
“I was gonna buy a new one, fire-engine red.”
“That would also be a cop-magnet,” I said.
Nevertheless, I’m glad he bought it. Maybe I should be more serious about that Boxter.
“I bet he doesn’t have his seatbelt on,” his daughter said, as he motored serenely out of the parking-lot.

• “SS” is the Chevy Super-Sport model, not Hitler’s Secret-Service. Usually it’s a high-performance motor and handling-package.
• RE: “C-2......” —Corvettes go by a letter iteration. The first ‘Vettes ’54 through ’62 are C-1, ‘63 through ’67 is C-2, ’68 through ’83 are C-3 (basically a restyling of the C-2); and from ’84 on are C-4 through C-7. All are more-or-less the same chassis — much better than the C-3 — with major restylings, relocation of the transmission in the rear of the car, and handling upgrades. To me the most attractive is the C-6, although the new C-7s handle extremely well, even better than the C-6 —The letter iterations were promulgated by Corvette enthusiasts.
• RE: “327 four-on-the-floor......” —327 cubic-inch SmallBlock V8, four-speed manual transmission with a floor-shifter. —The Chevrolet SmallBlock V8 was available with fuel-injection from 1957 on, as an option. By 1967 fuel-injection was still available, but somewhat developed. It cost megabucks, but was usually more powerful and more responsive. —Current Corvettes are fuel-injected, but mainly to meet emission-requirements. Pretty much everything is now. Carburetion is sloppy. (“Carbs.”)
• My current dog is “Scarlett” (two “Ts,” as in Scarlett O’Hara), a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s almost nine, and is my sixth Irish-Setter, a high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder.] By getting a rescue-dog, we avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad. She’s my fourth rescue.)