Monthly Calendar-Report for October 2015

I know exactly where this is. (Photo by Don Woods.)

—The October 2015 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees’ Photography-Contest calendar is phenomenal.
It’s strident fall-foliage, and I know where it is.
That’s the Jamestown Road bridge in the distance, and I’ve photographed off it.

From the Jamestown Road bridge. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

One of my BEST photos has that bridge in it, which is also used as an eastbound signal.

Eastbound on Track Two at Jamestown Road bridge. (This location is now “No Trespassing.”) (Photo by BobbaLew.)

The calendar says it’s in Portage (PA). Well, the Town of Portage, but just north (railroad east) of the village proper.
The train is on the bypass built in 1898. The bypass begins in Portage.
The original Pennsy main through Portage was kept as a branch because it passes a coal-facility north of Portage.
That branch connects to the bypass at both ends, in Portage, and also that switch visible at left, which is the north end of the branch.
The original Pennsy main crossed this area on its way to Cassandra (“Kuh-SAN-druh;” as in “Anne”) village, an old coal-town, the next town north of Portage.
The bypass ended toward Lilly, the next town after Cassandra.
It took out many torturous curves.
The locomotive is a General-Electric Dash-9-44CW, rated at 4,400 horsepower. Norfolk Southern got earlier Dash-9s downrated to 4,000 horsepower, the Dash-9-40C.
They’re now being uprated to 4,400 horsepower.
“C” is three powered axles per truck (six axles per locomotive), and “W” is wide-cab.
The train is a “stacker,” double-stacked freight-containers, and is on Track Two. The tracks are One, Two and Three left-to-right.
One is eastbound, Three is westbound, and Two can be either way.
One wonders how much longer we’ll see three tracks at this location.
It’s a busy line, and the train is climbing Allegheny Mountain. You often see two trains at once, a faster train on Two passing a plodder on One.




RoadRailer. (Photo by Jack Hughes.)

—The October 2015 entry of my own calendar is a Norfolk Southern RoadRailer (Train 261) westbound through Lilly (PA).
RoadRailer is a special train, an attempt to make highway trailers railroad compliant.
Highway trailers are pretty much the correct width for railroad transport, which is why you see so many trailers-on-flatcar.
Railroads have been transporting trailer-on-flatcar since at least 1950.
The RoadRailer experiment is to fit the trailer with what’s needed to install rail bogies — railroad wheels.

A rail-bogie is in position on a RoadRailer trailer.

The bogies attach to the rear of the trailer, and then the front of the following trailer.
Sling together a slew of these trailers, and you have a train.
The bogies lift the trailer high enough for its road-wheels to clear the track.
The bogies also have brakes.
My brother and I had gone to Altoona last October hoping to get fall foliage.
It can be dramatic, but I think the peak had already passed.
Trying to get fall foliage in Altoona is always a crap-shoot. We have to reserve months in advance. We can’t just drop everything and go when the webcams indicate we should.
My brother is still working, and has to get clearance to leave. I have to reserve boarding for my dog.
RoadRailer will be discontinued, although I saw one on the Station-Inn webcam Saturday, September 19th.
Station-Inn in Cresson (“KRESS-in”) is the railfan bed-and-breakfast where I often stay.
RoadRailer is too unlike regular railroad equipment. It can’t be humped or switched; the trailers aren’t sturdy enough.
It can’t even be backed, and can’t be pushed from the rear.
You can’t yard it together into a train. It has be especially assembled in a paved facility that can drive trailers.
Once assembled it can only be pulled to its disassembly location.
The weather was perfect every day, but the trees weren’t.
I did see this RoadRailer before leaving — we had chased trains the previous day.
Before leaving my brother drove out to Lilly, the next town south after Cresson.
I left, but my brother hung around to see what he could get, and that’s despite a nine-hour drive for him. The light was perfect, and here came RoadRailer; two engines pulling a long train. And one locomotive, the Union Pacific engine, is shared power.
The U.P. engine is probably returning to Union Pacific. It had probably brought a cross-country train east to Norfolk Southern. and NS just coupled one of its own engines in front of the U.P. engine.
Railroads often share power, since all the locomotives are pretty much the same. But a Norfolk Southern engine usually has to lead, since only it will correctly interface with NS’s track-control and signaling-systems. Norfolk Southern has in-the-cab signaling as well as lineside.




Winged-Warrior. (Photo by Peter Harholdt©.)

—The October 2015 entry in my Motorbooks Musclecar calendar is a 1970 Plymouth Superbird.
The Superbird is Plymouth’s version of the Dodge Charger Daytona, the most extremely bodied muscle-car of all.
The Daytona, and Superbird, are essentially responses to Ford’s special-bodied Torino Talladega, and Mercury’s Cyclone Spoiler II, for NASCAR’s super-tracks like Daytona and Talladega Super-Speedway in Alabama.
Ford applied a more aerodynamic front-end to increase top speed, so Chrysler grafted a special nose to its racetrack Dodge Charger. They also added a rear wing, up high the clear the trunk-lid.
Race-driver Richard Petty, who raced Plymouths, wanted the same aerodynamic improvements, so viola: the Plymouth Superbird.
Chrysler had to sell 500 of each car to race them in NASCAR.
They already had the phenomenal 426 cubic-inch Hemi (“hem-eee;” not “he-mee”) engine. That motor dominated drag-racing, where you wouldn’t need those aerodynamic improvements.
Imagine showing up in such a car at the Tastee-Freez. It wasn’t designed for the stoplight drags; it was designed for top-speed on a gigantic 2.5-mile racing tri-oval like Daytona — Talladega is 2.66-miles.
Race-driver Buddy Baker averaged over 200 mph at Talladega in a Daytona.
“Ritchut” (Petty) needed such a car to be competitive. With the Superbird he was.
The Hemi motor was eventually outlawed, and now even Plymouth is gone.
“National Association of Stock-Car Auto-Racing.” They’re hardly stock any more. They weren’t back in 1970. A builder would start with a stock body, add a roll-cage which stiffened the chassis, plus other non-stock alterations.
Builders often did bodywork to enhance top-speed aerodynamics, although the cars were required to match a stock-body template.
Granny would hardly buy groceries with a Superbird.




I’ve seen scenes like this. (Photo by Don Wood ©.)

—The October 2015 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar is another Don Wood photograph.
It’s a Pennsy M1b steam-engine (4-8-2) trundling a southbound freight through Sunbury, PA. The train is bound for Enola Yard near Harrisburg.
Wood’s photographs were the basis of the first Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar in 1966. Audio-Visual Designs owner railfan Carl Sturner, who founded his company in 1964, got together with Wood to display some of Wood’s fantastic photographs in a calendar.
Next year will be 50 years since that first calendar.
Both Sturner and Wood are gone, and the Audio-Visual Designs black-and-white All-Pennsy Calendar moved beyond just Wood’s photographs.
There have been various owners, but I’ve gotten the calendar for years.
I’m a Pennsy man; my first calendar was probably 1968.
There also were a few years the calendar wasn’t published.
But some of the best photographs published in the calendar were Wood’s.
He was from north Jersey, and liked to photograph Pennsy K-4s (4-6-2) on their final stomping-ground, Jersey Central’s New York & Long Branch, where Pennsy had trackage-rights.
It was commuter-traffic toward New York City. The K-4s would bring commuters to Bay Head, where the K-4 would be replaced with usually a GG-1.
That is, electrified power for non-electrified power.
The GG-1 would take the train to New York City over Pennsy’s electrified main.
But the steam-engine Wood liked most was Pennsy’s M-1 Mountain.
And Pennsy used its Mountains in mainline freight-service until the end of steam in 1957.
Of particular interest was Pennsy’s continued use of Mountains on the “Middle Division” of its mainline, Harrisburg to Altoona.
And also the line up to Buffalo and Erie, which this train is on.
Wood would chase Mountains all over Pennsy, especially its Middle Division.
What I find most interesting about this picture is the crossing-guard watchman at left.
When I was a child — late ‘40s — we still had a crossing-guard watchman in Haddonfield (“ha-din-FIELD;” as in “at”), the town in south Jersey near where I lived.
Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines went through Haddonfield, and crossed the main drag, Kings Highway, just west of the station. When a train was coming, or about to start at the station, the watchman would come out to flag the crossing. He was also cranking down the gates.
Trains were frequent.
The railroad had to hire a watchman. He stayed in a little shanty near the crossing between trains.
I think that watchman also controlled gates at other crossings in Haddonfield. There were at least three, maybe four.
Too bad watchmen disappeared with the coming of automation. Perhaps a watchman could better stop the idiots trying to beat the train.
Our family moved out of south Jersey in 1957. And Pennsylvania-Reading Seashore Lines became part of Conrail, and was eventually replaced by government commuter authorities.
The line through Haddonfield was converted to a rapid-transit connected to an earlier rapid-transit over Delaware River Bridge to Philadelphia, now Ben Franklin Bridge.
That rapid-transit was taken below-grade through Haddonfield. Kings Highway no longer crossed at grade. It’s on an overpass that leaps over the tracks below.
The line from Philadelphia to Atlantic City is also down there. It’s operated by Jersey Transit.



A brand-new Alco C-630 begins its first run. (Photo by Dave Sweetland.)

—The October 2015 entry in my All-Pennsy color calendar is a brand-new Alco C-630 in the lead with a westbound freight leaving Pitcairn Yard east of Pittsburgh, PA.
It’s 1966, the year I graduated college.
“C” stands for “Century,” the locomotive series, and “630” is six drive-axles, 3,000 horsepower.
Alco (American Locomotive Company) is of course long-gone. It tanked in 1969 when General-Electric started building complete diesel locomotives.
General-Electric had been supplying electrical components like traction-motors to Alco, but stopped in 1953.
Which is a shame, since American Locomotive Company, a long-time supplier of railroad steam-locomotives, had successfully made the transition to diesel locomotives. In fact, its RS-1 road-switcher of 1941 pioneered the concept, which railroads still prefer. Cab-units are no longer made.
But by the ‘60s Alco was foundering. Electromotive (EMD) had taken over the diesel-locomotive market. Other manufacturers, like Baldwin and Fairbanks-Morse had already failed.
When General-Electric started marketing locomotives, EMD had competition that imperiled it.
Even now many Alcos are still running, although mostly on smaller railroads, especially shortlines.
Alco eventually closed its plant in Schenectady, but continued production up in Canada at Montreal Locomotive Works, with whom it long-ago merged.
At least one more six-axle behemoth was fielded after the C-630, the C-636, 3,600 horsepower instead of 3,000.

Penn-Central #6320 (a C-630) used as one of two pusher-units around Horseshoe Curve. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Penn-Central 6320, pushing at Horseshoe curve about 1971, is a C-630.














The way it was in the ‘50s. (Photo by Scott Williamson.)

—The thing most wrong with this car is the color.
I prefer yellow as on the Milner coupe from American Graffiti.

The Milner coupe.

The October 2015 entry in my Oxman Hotrod Calendar is a 1932 Ford five-window coupe with an early Buick V8 engine.
If it were yellow, it would have been ahead of the Winged Warrior.
I also prefer the three-window coupes, and I’ve photographed a stellar example with a SmallBlock Chevy V8.

What I desire most. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Well okay, red is not yellow, but it ain’t as bad as the color of the calendar-car.
Nevertheless, this car is pretty much what hot-rodders were doing in the ‘50s.
A ’32 Ford with a souped V8 from the junkyard.
I especially like that it’s Buick’s first V8, its “nail-valve.”

Nail-valve.

“Nail-valve” because it’s valves were tiny. They were vertical, all in-a-row on the top side of a pent-roof combustion-chamber.
What possessed Buick to do this I have no idea, since it aims the exhaust-valves far away from the cylinder-head exits, which were on the cylinder-head sides.
Yet the dude who built this car got a Buick V8, probably from a junkyard crash-victim.
No doubt the car has had several owners, but they all kept that Buick Nail-Valve.
How many were tempted to replace it with a SmallBlock?
Supposedly these motors were superior torque-generators at low revs.
Well of course, with tiny valves it’s a low-rev motor.
I also notice the motor has a lot of carburetion, six unfiltered Strombergs.
Open ‘em all at once, and you won’t get much airflow.
I put giant toilet-mouthed 40-mm carbs on my Ducati (“dew-KAH-dee,” as in “ah”) motorcycle. But an identical motorcycle with 32-mm carbs accelerated faster. 40s were okay to do 150 mph, but too much at 30-60.
So I wonder if all six carbs work? Or if it’s just a trailer-queen?
Quite often a hotrod will have triple deuces, but only the center carb works.




“I can still see that oily, black pillar of smoke TOWERING above the Arizona.” (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

—The October 2015 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a Japanese Zero.
Putting the Zero last in this calendar-report seems unfair, since it was a surprisingly good airplane.
An excellent dogfighter, though short on armor. The Japanese seemed to think their pilots expendable.
Shoot up a well-armored Navy fighter, and its pilot was more likely to survive.
As per usual, I’ll let my WWII warbirds site weigh in:
“Fast, maneuverable and flown by highly-skilled pilots, the Mitsubishi Zero-Sen was the most famous Japanese plane of WWII, and a big surprise to American forces.
Ignored by British and American intelligence (who had access to design plans for the aircraft years before the war) the ‘Zero’ (it was the Navy Type O carrier-based fighter) was armed with two 20-mm cannon, two 7.7mm machine guns, and possessed the incredible range of 1,930 miles using a centerline drop tank.
Though outclassed by more powerful U.S. fighters after late 1943, the Zero remained a tough opponent throughout the war.
First flown on April 1st, 1939, the A6M1 prototype was powered by a 780-horsepower Mitsubishi Zuisei radial engine which gave it excellent performance except for its maximum speed, which was below specifications.
A second prototype, the A6M2, was powered by a 925-horsepower Nakajima Sakae engine, which was so successful that in July 1940, the type was ordered into production as the Navy Type ‘O’ Carrier Fighter Model 11.
Pre-production Zeros were used in China from August 1940. This outstanding aircraft could travel at speeds up to 350 mph in level flight (the A6M5 version, 1,130 horsepower) and reach 15,000 feet in five minutes.
Contrast this with America’s front line fighter, the Grumman F4F Wildcat, which had a top speed of 325 mph, was not as maneuverable, and which had four .50-inch machine guns. No wonder the few Wildcat pilots rising up to defend Pearl Harbor in December, 1941 were surprised!
By late 1944, with most of its aircraft carriers sunk (and its most highly-trained aircrews gone), Japan resorted to desperate measures. These included ‘Kamikaze’ (divine wind) suicide raids, wherein green pilots would turn their early-model Zeros into aerial bombs for attacks on Allied ships. Truly an ignominious end for one of history’s great warbirds.”
So I wonder if this Zero has its original Nakajima Sakae 12 motor.
Only two Zeros are airworthy, and the one pictured in my WWII Warbirds site has a Pratt & Whitney.
It’s easier to get Pratt & Whitney parts.
The Zero was made by Mitsubishi.
When I worked at the Messenger newspaper years ago, I mentioned buying a Mitsubishi SUV. Mitsubishi had allied with Chrysler.
“Mitsubishi?” a friend screamed. “Weren’t they the manufacturers of the Japanese Zero?
I can still see that oily, black pillar of smoke towering above the Arizona.”

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This is my kind of car.

—The October 2015 entry of my Jim LePore muscle-car calendar is a 1966 Chevy-II Nova two-door hardtop.
“Zippity-do,” I thought. “What’s so special about this thing?”
It’s the type of car I would buy. It has the top-of-the-line 327 cubic-inch SmallBlock with four-on-the-floor.
It’s the Chevy version of Ford’s Falcon Futura “Sprint,” except a 327 SmallBlock is more desirable.
The calendar calls it a musclecar.
Well, sorta.
350 horsepower!
Not a Big-Block Chevelle, but the sort of car I’d want to replace the car-of-my-dreams, a SmallBlock ’55, if I’d ever had one.

The car-of-my-dreams, a six-inline Two-Ten hardtop converted to a 283 four-speed. —All through high-school, college, and even after. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Unlike the Big-Block Chevelle, or a G-T-O, this car makes sense. Practicality hadn’t been sacrificed to produce the fastest car.
As the late ‘60s progressed into the early ‘70s, musclecars became more-and-more extreme = impractical.
I probably would have hung onto a 327 Chevy-II a long time.