Monthly Calendar-Report for December 2014
Stacker descends the Bypass on Three. (Photo by Bobbalew.)
The December 2014 entry of my own calendar is not that good.
It’s a stacker descending Track Three down from The Hill on the Bypass built by Pennsy in 1898.
As originally laid out through this area, Pennsy was difficult. There were torturous curves.
This Bypass was built to circumvent those curves, but quite a bit of the original mainline still exists. It exists as a branch through Portage (PA). The Bypass begins at Portage.
Pennsy kept its original mainline because it passes Sonman, once a coal-mine, now just a loading facility.
It was the site of a mine-explosion in 1940 that killed 63.
Coal gets trucked to it, then heaped at Sonman for transloading into railroad coal-cars.
I’m told the coal is metallurgical and shipped abroad. It’s used in steel-making. It’s not coal burned to generate electricity, so-called steam-coal.
That’s the Sonman branch into the main at right. The branch also connects at its other end to the Bypass in Portage.
Eons ago the original Pennsy crossed this area to the left to go through the tiny coal-town of Cassandra (“kuh-SANNA-druh;” as in the name “Anne”).
The Bypass bypassed Cassandra, but has to do a deep rock-cut.
It’s also the location of Cassandra Railfan Overlook, an old bridge over the tracks through the rock-cut.
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| An eastbound threads the rock-cut at Cassandra Railfan Overlook. (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
A Cassandra resident noticed railfans were hanging out on the bridge, so made it a railfan pilgrimage spot.
Eastbound trains are really hammering, climbing the grade to Allegheny summit.
The Bypass makes their climb fairly easy. It used be there were lots of curves around and through Cassandra.
A road crosses the Bypass on a bridge. That bridge is also used to mount signals for the railroad.
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| The Jamestown Road overpass. (Photo by Bobbalew with Phil Faudi.) |
Approaches to the bridge are arrow-straight from both sides.
Yet here it came, a westbound stacker on Three.
I was on the overpass.
I cranked my telephoto out as far as it would go: 300 mm.
If the train is short enough the entire train will be in my picture on that Bypass.
And it looks like that stacker might go back as far as Cassandra Railfan Overlook. At the Overlook the railroad curves gently left.
The Overlook is visible in the distance, but a signal-bridge partially obscures it.
It looks like that stacker might be long enough to still be on that curve at its tail-end.
I wasn’t with Faudi (Phil Faudi [“FOW-deee;” as in “wow”]) when I took this picture, but Jamestown Road bridge is a Faudi location.
Phil is the railfan extraordinaire from the Altoona area who used to lead me around on train-chases along this line.
Nice, but too snowy. (Photo by Willie Brown.)
—Up here where I live there’s a fairly good chance we’ll have snow in December.
Which is why I always try to do a snow-picture for December in my calendar.
Also January and February.
But this picture, good as it is, is overkill.
It’s too snowy.
Photographer Brown has snagged a really good shot, but to me it’s January or February.
We’d probably have snow up here in December, but not like this.
A Norfolk Southern train of empty coal-cars heads back to a mine for more coal. It just unloaded to a barge on the Ohio River. The train is near Powhatan Point (Ohio).
What a fabulous shot. A branch-line train on a narrow single-track branch. It’s nice to see a picture like this after so many mainline trains.
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| (Note the red barn.) (Photo by Willie Brown.) |
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| Another Powhatan Point picture. (Photo by Bill Gantz.) |
Another picture of a Powhatan Point coal-train was in this calendar. It was taken by Bill Gantz. I wonder if it’s the same train on the same branch?
The lead locomotive #3333, is an EMD SD40-2, the “2” meaning it has advanced solid-state modular electronics, as opposed to the mechanical switches and relays in earlier EMD diesels.
SD-40s are 3,000 horsepower on six-wheel trucks. They are turbocharged.
Geeps (“GP”) had four-wheel trucks but seem to have been succeeded by six-wheel truck locomotives.
“GP” stood for “General-Purpose,” and the GP40-2 was the last of EMD’s four-wheel truck road locomotives.
“SDs” are EMD’s six-wheel truck locomotives: “Special-Duty.”
General-Electric’s current diesel locomotives are six-wheel trucks.
For years it was three traction-motors per truck, but now manufacturers are going back to two traction-motors per truck, still six wheels, but the center-two wheels are idlers.
EMD’s early passenger-diesels, the E-units, were that way, only two traction-motors per six-wheel truck.
The center wheels on an E-unit were idlers.
It’s a fabulous picture, but too snowy for December. As I recall, the December picture in my own calendar (above) was taken in February. But there had been a big thaw, and the amount of snow left was like December.
Bitchin’! (Photo by Scott Williamson.)
—The December 2014 entry of my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a great-looking hotrod, but I’m not sure I’d wanna bend it into a corner.
It’s a ’28 Model-A five-window coupe on ’32 Ford rails.
But it has a 392 cubic-inch Chrysler Hemi (“HEM-eee;” as opposed to “HE-meee”) motor, the so-called “ultimate American V8.”
The 392 Hemi was a development for 1957-58 of the first version of the Hemi, which debuted in 1951.
That motor probably weighs 200-300 pounds more than what was in there originally.
The early Hemi has cast-iron cylinder-heads. With splayed valves in a hemispherical combustion-chamber, flanked by two rocker-shafts, a Hemi head probably weighed 70-80 pounds more than the average Chevrolet V8 cast-iron head.
Of course, the Hemi breathed quite well. Drag-racers fell to using the Hemi. The extra weight was worth breathing well at speed.
But I don’t know if a Hemi would make much sense if you wanted your hotrod to be drivable.
A friend of mine, now deceased, was building a Model-A roadster hotrod. It had a souped-up ’56 Pontiac V8. That motor was so much heavier than what was in there originally, about 100-200 pounds, the car’s front shocks were overwhelmed.
But they were the stock Ford Houdaille shocks. I’d like to think the owner of this calendar-car installed shocks that could cope with the additional weight.
But still, I can’t imagine trying to bend this thing around a corner. It would wanna continue straight.
The owner’s penchant for drilling things makes this car.
The front axle-beam is drilled, as is the visor, of all things.
The top is also chopped.
There wasn’t a Ford coupe of this era made that couldn’t benefit from a top-chop.
Although doing so might scrunch the driver.
Otherwise the car was left alone, although the fenders and hood were removed.
And the owner didn’t apply flames. Flames would have ruined it.
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| All I hafta do is dream. (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
I should have asked the guy what he’d take to part with it. I’ve always wanted a hotrod, although a recent Porsche (“poor-SHA”) Boxter might make more sense.
I’m sure a hotrod would be a handful, and would require constant fiddling.
There was another guy at this show who’d brought his T-Bucket hotrod. Asked about how it drove, he said it could get “squirrely.”
Spit! (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)
—If the P-51 Mustang was the apogee of American WWII warbirds, it could be said the SuperMarine Spitfire was the British apogee.
The December 2014 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a SuperMarine Spitfire.
Although the Spit (Spitfire) was before the Mustang, but not much.
In fact, the Mustang was designed to meet British requirements.
Although by then British requirements had caught up with aeronautical design.
The Spitfire did not meet British requirements, although it was such a phenomenal airplane the requirements got updated.
What I’ve heard, and I’m not sure of this, is the Spitfire is a racer turned fighter-plane. That there was a racing seaplane the Spitfire mimics.
The scuttlebutt is the Spitfire is what made the difference in the Battle-of-Britain, where Hitler’s Luftwaffe was laying waste to England.
But it was the Hawker Hurricane, a somewhat stodgy design compared to the Spit, but earlier.
I’ll let my WWII warbirds site weigh in:
“Undoubtedly the most famous British combat aircraft of WWII, the Spitfire is as deeply ingrained in the collective psyche of most Britons as the P-51 Mustang is for most Americans.
First flown on March 5th, 1936, the Spitfire sprang from the design desk of R.J. Mitchell, who had previously submitted an unsuccessful design for a similar fighter, the Type 224.
Once given the freedom to design an aircraft outside of the strict Air Ministry specifications, his Type 300 emerged as a clear winner; so much so that a new Air Ministry specification was written to match the new design.”
Eventually Hitler had to abandon his goal of defeating England. And England was the base for Allied bombing-runs against Germany.
To me, this is not a very good photograph. Makanna has done some very dramatic shots, including of the Spitfire, but I can’t find any — they were years ago.
The greatest railroad locomotive of all time. (Photo by John Dziobko.)—As I’ve said many times, can there be an All-Pennsy calendar without a GG-1 in it? (“Jee-Jee-ONE;” I only say that because a friend was mispronouncing it “Jee-Jee-Eye.”)
After all, the GG-1 was the most successful locomotive Pennsy ever had.
In my humble opinion, the GG-1 is the greatest railroad locomotive ever made. It could put 9,000 horsepower to railhead, whereas current diesel-locomotive technology tops out at 4,400 horsepower.
The December 2014 entry in my All-Pennsy color calendar is five GG-1s awaiting duty in a Philadelphia yard. The calendar says six, but I count five.
But what I noticed first is the coach to the left. It’s probably Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines (“REDD-ing;” not “REED-ing”), an old PRR P-70 coach re-lettered for duty on PRSL.
Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines is a 1933 amalgamation of Pennsy and Reading lines in south Jersey of too many parallel competing lines. PRSL served mainly the south Jersey seashore.
The original Reading line to Atlantic City was abandoned with the amalgamation, as were various Pennsy lines to other seashore resorts.
PRSL was not electrified. In fact, in the late ‘40s it was still using steam-locomotives, the reason I became a railfan.
I was scared to death of thunderstorms, but I could stand right next to a steam-locomotive.
Time to trot out my GG-1 photographs:
STAND BACK! (90 mph.) (Photo by BobbaLew.)
As a teenager I was lucky to live in northern DE, not far from Pennsy’s New York City to Washington DC electrified line.
I saw many GG-1s, and it seemed every time I did, they were doing about 90 mph!
Over the Flyover into Edgemoor Yard. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
I could tell many GG-1 stories, but I’ll relate only one.
My paternal grandfather, known as “Pop-Pop,” apparently rode Pennsy’s Congressional Limited behind a GG-1.
The Congressional Limited used to be Pennsy’s premier all-Pullman train from New York City to Washington. By the time my grandfather rode it, it had coaches. —I also rode it myself in 1959, and it had coaches then.
My grandfather was blown away, despite being normally unemotional.
In 1954 we were returning from my summer boys camp in northeastern MD. We were on Route 40, which more-or-less parallels Pennsy’s New York/Washington main. Route 40 crossed that main in Elkton, MD on an overpass. A southbound GG-1 passenger express boomed underneath.
“Must be the Congressional,” he said, with obvious awe in his voice.
Over Shellpot Creek on the Flyover. (Photo by BobbaLew.)
As he got older, he and my grandmother moved into an apartment in Edgemoor, DE, not far from Pennsy’s New York/Washington main.
We’d be inside, but a train would flash by.
We could hear it.
“Must be the Congressional,” he’d say.
As I age myself I wonder if anyone will understand what a great locomotive the GG-1 was.
I consider myself lucky to have been blown away so many times by GG-1s.
#4935. (Photo by Tom Hughes.)
There is my nephew, Tom Hughes, whose maternal grandfather worked on GG-1s a short time in the shops in Wilmington, DE.
Quite a few GG-1s are left. None are operable, but the best I’ve seen is #4935 at Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania near Strasburg, PA.
I fact, the electricity delivered over the overhead wire that powered GG-1s is now different, and wouldn’t work with a GG-1.
We just have to look on in awe — the greatest railroad locomotive of all time.
1967 Hemi-Charger. (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)
—The December 2014 entry in my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar is a 1967 Dodge Hemi-Charger.
The guys at Chrysler were aware of the smashing success of Pontiac’s G-T-O, introduced in the 1964 model-year.
The G-T-O was essentially a hotrod version of an established car, Pontiac’s mid-size Tempest.
So the boys at Dodge decided to try the same thing, a hotrod version of their intermediate car, the Coronet.
But they needed an angle, something to differentiate from a Coronet.
They grafted a fastback roof on it, and introduced it in 1966 as the “Charger.”
To me, it didn’t look that good. Later Dodge Chargers looked much better.
One lives nearby. I think it’s 1966; dark-green and nothing special, only a 383 TorqueFlite.
Years ago when I lived in Rochester (NY), I had a young neighbor who thought the world of the first fastback Chargers.
He loved their fastback lines.
To me, a fastback doesn’t notch as it approaches the car’s tail. Later Chargers have very swooping lines, but they notch.
They also were too big for this kid, early and later.
Chrysler called ‘em “mid-size,” but they were still pretty large. Not gargantuan like a Plymouth Fury, which I rented once.
That thing’s hood was big enough to land a Navy Corsair fighter-plane.
This calendar-car also has a “Hemi” motor, the gargantuan torque-generator that could melt the rear tires.
That’s following the musclecar formula: lever a hot-rodded motor from a full-size car into an intermediate.
That was the G-T-O formula; its motor was the 389 from a full-size Pontiac.
The tranny appears to be TorqueFlite; there’s no clutch-pedal.
And the tachometer is down on the center-console.
Drag-racers would want a four-speed floor-shifted standard transmission, and they’d put a tach atop the dash — where they could see it.
The stupidest tach-locations I’ve seen were outside on the hood. Is that clown-design?
Too late, and somewhat a failure. (Photo by Bert Pennypacker©.)
—The December 2014 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is Pennsy’s 4-4-4-4 T-1 duplex, marching the Cincinnati Limited out of Cincinnati Union Station on B&O trackage-rights.
The train is bound for New York City.
The T-1 wasn’t articulated; that is, its front driver-set wasn’t hinged to a solidly-mounted rear driver-set.
What it really was, was Pennsy’s 4-8-4, but with four drive-pistons instead of two. That is, its two driver-sets were solidly-mounted to the locomotive frame.
The fact it had four drive-pistons on a single frame made it a “duplex.”
It also lengthened the driver wheelbase, so the T-1 is essentially a straight-line locomotive. It wasn’t good at negotiating tight curves.
The front driver-set wasn’t as heavily loaded as the rear driver-set, so had a tendency to slip.
And slipping could occur at elevated speeds, even 100 mph.
In which case the locomotive-engineer had to back off the throttle, reducing steam input to both driver-sets.
So the locomotive had to slow just to rein in the slipping.
Duplex design is a Baldwin Locomotive trick. It reduced the weight of locomotive side-rods, which hammer the rail as the drive-wheels rotate.
Pennsy also had freight duplexes, the Q-1 (4-6-4-4) and the Q-2s (4-4-6-4). Only the Q-2 was built in quantity, and was trumped by the economics of dieselization.
Pennsy was trying to continue the use of coal-fired steam locomotion. But dieselization was appealing.
The T-1 and the Qs were post WWII. Pennsy did not develop steam locomotives in the late ‘20s and ‘30s. 4-8-4s are prolific on other railroads, but Pennsy didn’t have any.
Pennsy was investing in electrification, and when train-weights exceeded what a single K-4 (4-6-2) could pull, they could afford to double-head K-4s.
That’s two locomotive crews per train, but Pennsy was moving so much traffic they could afford it.
So Pennsy didn’t develop steam-locomotives ‘til after the war. In fact, during the war they were caught with old and tired locomotives.
They couldn’t develop anything better. They had to go outside to purchase what they needed.
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| Belpaire. |
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| An original Loewy T-1. |
It was Pennsy’s war-baby; not a Pennsy design, but needed to move the torrent of traffic.
The T-1 was originally styled by Raymond Loewy, and looked fabulous.
But only two Loewy-styled T-1s were built.
Pennsy operating-men monkeyed with Loewy’s design to make it easier to work on.
Skirting was removed, and the smokebox chamfers reduced.
The Pennsy T-1 still looked impressive, but was smoky.
The T-1 also has Franklin Poppet valve-gear, very hard to work on compared to Walschaerts (“WELL-shirtz”), what most PRR steam-locomotives had.
Franklin Poppet was more precise than Walschaerts; but failure-prone.
Franklin Poppet was like the poppet-valves in a car-engine.
In fact, the locomotive shown, #5500, was the only one with revised poppet valve-gear.
But worst of all was slippage at elevated speeds. Can you imagine trying the rein-in driver-slippage at 100 mph?
But what really skonked the T-1 was dieselization. Steam-locomotives required water and coal-towers. All diesels needed was a fuel-rack; and the fuel was liquid, not solid.
And diesels deliver constant wheel-torque. A side-rod steam locomotive delivered thrusts that could break traction.
Steam-locomotives also required a gigantic phalanx of experienced technicians to maintain them.
With dieselization Pennsy was no longer developing its own locomotives.
Well, not bad for Bert Pennypacker.
Pennypacker had a habit of shooting anything and everything. He could be called a locomotive portraitist.
As such, his photos were kind of plain.
Except once-in-a-while he’d stumble on a good photo-location, or snag a dramatic photo.
That’s what I more-or-less depend on myself. I use Phil Faudi’s photo-locations on Allegheny Crossing, although my brother and I have found a few ourselves.
I also am not shooting anything and everything, like helper-units pushing the back end of a train.
Although I have, since those helper-units look like lead units. Some of my best photos are helper-units.
December is when I usually do extra pictures which may be in my calendars. I have five worth doing, but my Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar has an excellent photograph mucked up by Photoshop, which I can’t correct.
It also has a picture of Nickel Plate #765, but it ain’t that good
I only run three pictures, -1) the cover of my own calendar, -2) a Peter Harholdt picture in the front of my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar, and -3) an “in memoriam” to Dean Jeffries in my Oxman Hotrod Calendar.
Oh my goodness! (Photo by BobbaLew.)
In 2013, Norfolk Southern, owner of the old Pennsylvania Railroad lines across PA, recruited restored steam-locomotive Nickel Plate 765 to pull employee-appreciation trips in the state.
765 would pull trips up The Hill up Allegheny Mountain, which includes The Mighty Curve (Horseshoe Curve).
As I’ve said many times, Nickel Plate 765 is by far the BEST restored steam-locomotive I’ve ever seen.
I’m told this is the doing of Rich Melvin, leader of the restoration project.
He wanted 765 to run just like it had in service, hard and fast.
I rode behind 765 years ago. We were doing 70 mph uphill, working steam.
I will never forget it. It got me crying.
The Hill is a challenge. 12 miles of 1.75-percent grade; that’s 1.75 feet up for every 100 feet forward.
765 was pulling a string of coaches, yet had Norfolk Southern’s #8102, the Pennsy Heritage-unit, pushing the other end.
Okay, where do I photograph 765? My brother and I had come to Altoona to see 765.
I set up at the top of The Hill in Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin;” as in “get”) where Pennsy tunneled under the summit of Allegheny Mountain.
It would be on Track Two, next to where I set up.
We could hear it coming, assaulting the heavens up the other side of The Hill.
765 had to whistle for the tunnel.
And only steam-locomotives have whistles. Diesel-locomotives use air-horns.
Here it comes through the tunnel, blasting the tunnel-roof, working steam.
It burst out of the tunnel doing about 30 mph, speed-limit for passenger-trains on The Hill.
765’s engineer — it may have been Melvin — let out a whistle-shriek of triumph. 765 had MADE The Hill.
WOW!
Getting a picture was near impossible. Anyone and everyone, railfan and non-railfan, was out to see 765.
Steam-locomotives are pretty much the reason I became a railfan. Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines was still using steam in the late ‘40s.
But among all the PRSL steamers I saw, which includes Pennsy K-4s and E-6s, none were like 765.
765 is SuperPower, steam-locomotion hot-rodded.
The “Queen of the West End;” 765 was the favorite Nickel Plate locomotive years ago.
And Melvin and his crew restored it to run like it used to.
A ’66 396 Chevelle SS. (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)
The Harholdt picture is a ’66 SS Chevelle, 396 cubic-inches, Chevrolet’s version of the G-T-O.
—What musclecars were, a hot-rodded version of the full-size motor in the lighter mid-size car.
(The first G-T-Os had the 389 from a full-size Pontiac.)
396 is the Chevy Big-Block. My brother-in-Boston has an SS, but it’s a 454 ’71.
He had me drive it. I dared not goose it.
Every once-in-a-while a Big-Block SS Chevelle passes my house; probably also a 454 ’71.
I can hear it coming. Induction-noise, not the exhaust.
Exhaust-noise is the unmuffled Harleys.
I’m always amazed at how far we’ve come since the musclecars.
Musclecars carry the styling in vogue at that time. They have long trunks, and aren’t aerodynamic.
Today’s cars look like jellybeans, but don’t have the wind-drag a musclecar would have.
Today’s cars also aren’t swilling gas at 5 mpg.
Plus they don’t hurl you off-road like a musclecar might.
The early Mustangs are very attractive, but not the exceptional car a recent Mustang is.
Like it or not, a musclecar is an antique.
Jeffries’ car. (It better not rain.) (Photo by Scott Williamson.)
Sometime in 2013 car-customizer Dean Jeffries died.
This was his car, a mildly hot-rodded ’33 Ford two-door sedan.
And it was drivable; his daily driver.
Jeffries was at first a painter. His first work was flames and pinstriping cars.
Which explains the extravagant flames on his car.
I usually don’t like flames, but they look pretty good on this car; as if they belong. And Jeffries did real flames, not dayglo blue or green.
Jeffries later went on into full customizations.
With Jeffries gone, this car has probably already changed hands.
We can only hope its new owner doesn’t touch it.
Labels: Monthly Calendar Report
posted by BobbaLew at 4:58 PM
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