Alone

The whole reason I do this train-chasing bit. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

“Norfolk Southern milepost 258.8, Track One, no defects.”
That’s a lineside defect-detector in Portage (PA) on the old Pennsylvania Railroad.
(Defect-detectors allowed retirement of cabooses.)
It’s broadcasting over railroad-radio, and I hear that on my railroad-radio scanner. —So does the train crew.
Track One is eastbound, so if I’m east of Portage I’ll see the train.
Similarly, as each train passes a lineside (or overhead) signal, its engineer (not “conductor,” media-flunkies) has to call out the signal-aspect on railroad-radio.
E.g. “21M” (the train-number), “west on Two” (Track Two), “UN” (the signal location): “CLEAR!” (Or “stop” or “restricting”).
I’ll hear that on my scanner too, and know where UN is. If I’m west of UN (old telegraph call-letters) I know I’ll see that train.
If it’s on Track Two, the engineer has to give direction. Track One is eastbound, Three is westbound, and Two can be either way.
Better yet, do I have time to drive farther west so I can set up and photograph 21M?
That’s what “train-chasing” is. Zag up-and-down the railroad so I can photograph trains. Maybe 100+ miles over nine hours.
“An auspicious start,” I texted my brother.
Usually my brother and I photograph trains in Altoona (PA).
I drive down from home in western NY, and he drives from near Boston, about nine hours. (Me is 5&1/2.)
I fell in my garage before starting out. I was checking the oil in my car.
A step is nearby, and it tripped me. I fell and hit my head on a metal doorsill.
It drew blood. Bleeding was heavy at first, but clotted to almost nothing.
Still my hair has dried blood in it.
My balance is awful. I hafta be hyper aware of where my feet fall to avoid tripping.
Most worrisome is tipping over, requiring a quick side-step or grabbing something.
One hand has to always be free. Load both hands, and I have no hands to stifle a fall.
Altoona is where the Pennsylvania Railroad crossed Allegheny Mountain, an impediment to trade with the nation’s interior in the early 1800s.
Allegheny Mountain couldn’t be canaled. But it didn’t go into NY, which was why the Erie Canal could be built.
Ports like Philadelphia and Baltimore worried New York City might become the premier east-coast port.
And it did!
Baltimore attacked Allegheny Mountain with a railroad, the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, chartered in 1827 and opened in 1828, the first common-carrier railroad in the nation.
PA built a combination canal and portage railroad — portage over Allegheny Mountain.
But it was so cumbersome and slow Philadelphia capitalists built a private railroad like B&O, the Pennsylvania Railroad = Harrisburg (PA) to Pittsburgh.
They brought in John Edgar Thomson from Georgia to engineer an easy route over Allegheny Mountain.
His route wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible. Helper locomotives were needed to conquer Allegheny Mountain. But a complete train could conquer the mountain with helpers.
No switchbacks or impossibly steep grades requiring train breakup.
The Pennsylvania Railroad became immensely successful. Feeder railroads from the midwest that fed Pittsburgh were merged into it.
It became one of two major conduits of trade for the east-coast megalopolis. —The other was New York Central.
The railroad is still successful, but is no longer Pennsy.
It’s now Norfolk Southern, a 1982 merger of Norfolk & Western and Southern Railway. Norfolk & Western expanded into the midwest, and in 1999 NS got the old Pennsy part of Conrail, the gumint solution to the Penn-Central bankruptcy.
Pennsy and New York Central merged in 1968, but promptly went bankrupt. Conrail was gumint’s response; rail transport was still needed in the northeast.
Conrail became successful and privatized. In so doing it became attractive to CSX Transportation — a successor to Chesapeake & Ohio. C&O had already merged other railroads in the southeast, more-or-less renaming itself “Chessie.”
(“Chessie” was a stray cat found on a C&O passenger-train.)
CSX was gonna get all of Conrail, but Norfolk Southern put in a bid.
CSX got the old NYC main across NY, and NS got the old PRR across PA.
(Conrail previously had both.)
Gumint heartily approved; competition in northeast railroading was restored.

So now it’s Norfolk Southern over Allegheny Mountain, but it’s still Pennsy to me. It’s Pennsy’s railroad, and I’m a Pennsy man.
And it’s still a mountain railroad. Helpers are still needed across Allegheny Mountain. Although not as much as previously = more powerful locomotives.
And it’s still immensely successful. I tell people wait 25 minutes and you’ll see a train.
Often they’re more frequent than that, like every 10-15 minutes. Often there are slow times, when track-maintenance gets performed. Usually around lunch-time.

So alone this time, and frightened.
I worried about tipping over. I use my brother as a safety-check; he just turned 60, but I’m 73.
It’s a verbal wrastling-match. My brother is very much like my mother’s siblings, prone to take charge. Occasionally that means not being able to photograph what I want. I don’t take charge; I’d rather get along.
So being alone had its advantages. I could photograph all the locations I had to defer.
Often when I arrive my brother is already set up at a location I’ve photographed before.
I also am more inclined to drive directly to my motel.
But this time my iPhone’s weather-app said the next day, my train-chase day, would be rainy.

So instead I drove directly to a photo location, Gray Interlocking, south (railroad-west) of Tyrone (“tie-RONE;” as in “own”), where a controlled siding merges back into the main.
“Controlled” means the siding is signaled. It goes all the way to Altoona, allowing dispatchers to juggle multiple trains.
The main is now only two tracks east of Altoona — it used to be four (the “Broad-way,” not New York City’s street).
Gray is not photogenic; it needs to be sunlit.
Westbounds need sunlight — it was cloudy.


Seven units pass eastbound at Gray. (Photo by BobbaLew.)


A local heads west at Gray. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Looking railroad-west (approaching eastbounds) is even less photogenic.
New signaling was partially erected, but Pennsy’s old signal-bridge was still in use.

After Gray I drove down to Fostoria, a tiny assemblage of houses next to the railroad. It’s far from the main highway.
I never can get Fostoria to work, even though it has a signal-bridge with six signals. Two are for the controlled siding.
Amtrak’s westbound Pennsylvanian showed as soon as I pulled in. No time to set up, and I still had my telephoto on.
Shaddup-and-shoot, hoping I’ve hand-held it still.


Amtrak’s westbound Pennsylvanian through Fostoria. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

I stayed a while, and shot a few more trains.


Westbound stacker charges through Fostoria. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

Nothing inspiring though — next time maybe my wide-angle in Fostoria to make those signals work.
It was now time for supper = off to the infamous “spaghetti-joint,” Lena’s Italian Restaurant in Altoona.
My brother poo-pooed Lena’s at first, but agreed it was pretty good after we tried it.
Mostly we haven’t been able to eat there — too far away at suppertime.

May 25th, my train-chase day.
Amazingly I got my new “Home-Depot” scanner, a Uniden Bearcat with non-chargeable batteries, to work.
I was expecting utter failure. I had a stroke almost 24 years ago, which makes reading a manual difficult.
Poking through the manual in my motel room I got it to work, although I only have one frequency programmed, 160.800, the railroad’s operating frequency.
The previous day was scanner-less, such that I was leaving locations just as a train appeared.
With a scanner I avoid that. If a train is coming I hear it.
I’m not sure about it — it keeps firing up the weather broadcast, even when I have it holding at 160.800.
I tried to permanently delete that, but I keep getting it.
The scanner would also fire up radio-telemetry signals = unbearable. I apparently permanently deleted ‘em.

Back to Fostoria; railroad-west looked pretty good although it lacks the signals.
When I arrived an eastbound local was cooling its heels on the controlled siding. It was waiting for something to clear. What I wanted was another eastbound.
It would block the local, but looking railroad-west at Fostoria at an approaching eastbound works. Plain — no signals — but dramatic.


Westbound empty coal passes the stopped local at Fostoria. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

A westbound empty coal-train passed, but nothing eastbound. Finally the local pulled out.
I took a picture, but the light was dingy.
I fiddled it here at home with my Photoshop-Elements, but can only make it look fair.
It’s a dramatic shot, but needs the sun out.
(That local at Gray is also pumped up — PE can significantly improve a picture. Content in dingy light can be jazzed.)

Next was back up to Tyrone to try a possible I noticed the day before = looking toward that beautiful old station, as a westbound passes.


21V passes passes old Tyrone station. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

(I’m not sure this building was the actual station; I’ve seen another. The building now houses Tyrone’s Historical-Society.)
But the picture doesn’t work; the railroad is too far from the building. I’ve tried various locations but only one works = includes the building. That’s Amtrak’s eastbound Pennsylvanian on Track Two. I have it as my July 2017 calendar-picture.

Next would be “UN,” where a loop was built between Two and One to get pushers back down the mountain.
UN is just past Gallitzin (“guh-LIT-zin;” as in “get”), top of mountain.
I’ve shot UN before, but recently my brother refused to move his truck. He wanted me to shoot what he was shooting, (“Ya mean I gotta come down here stealth?”)
Both Tracks Two and Three pass UN — Track One is on the other side of town. Three is westbound; occasionally eastbounds use Two.
I shot a few trains, one of which was the hotshot, 21E, the UPS train. Very high priority, east coast to west coast, but a lousy picture.


21J, all auto-racks, on Two at UN. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

I also got 60N on Three, mere seconds before an eastbound passed on Two, a double out in the wilderness.
At first I thought it couldn’t be 60N, since even numbers are eastbound. But my brother texted from Boston it was indeed 60N, which goes west over Allegheny Crossing.
It looked like 60N was a slab-train, heavy steel slabs in gondolas being transferred to a rolling-mill.
I wasn’t where I could see the contents, but it was all gondola cars — which tells me “slab-train.”
UN is like Fostoria = how can I make it look good?

Where to next? I managed all my deferred pictures and it was only 2:30.
How about Cassandra Railroad Overlook (“kuh-SANNE-druh;” as in “sand”); set up under trees out of the rain.
But as I drove to Cassandra I remembered a view I wanted to take for years, the view in my lede photo.
I shot two westbounds, sort of a mistake, but then “Y90 on One, 258.8; CLEAR!” Y90 was in Portage, west of Cassandra.
Then “Norfolk Southern milepost 258.8, Track One, no defects.” (That’s the rear of the train passing the detector.)
Here it comes.
258.8 has both a signal and a defect-detector.
Out of the car into the rain, slog through wet grass to my spot.
“Click-click-click-click-click!” 12 multiple shots as the train growled past. That lede is my last shot.
My camera has a viewing-screen. “YOWZAH! What a picture! Foreground, framing, the whole kibosh!”
I had a hunch!
The bridge is Cassandra Railroad Overlook.
The original railroad went through Cassandra, but in 1898 Pennsy built a bypass that took out torturous curves through the area.
It involved a big rock cut, then a long fill.
The highway into Cassandra originally came over the rock, so a bridge was needed to get the highway over the new bypass.
I’ve heard various stories. -A) Cassandra Railroad Overlook is the original highway bridge, OR -B) it’s a footbridge that replaced the highway bridge.
If it’s just a footbridge it’s very substantial: steel or iron with a concrete deck. It could support a car, although it’s only one lane wide. I doubt it could pass a ‘60s Cadillac.
Whatever, residents of Cassandra could use that bridge to cross the tracks to coal mining on the other side.
The highway now also bypasses Cassandra, and that original highway was abandoned.
But the overpass wasn’t removed.
Railfans started congregating on the bridge.
Ergo: “Cassandra Railroad Overlook,” probably the BEST train-viewing spot I’ve ever been to.
Unlike nearby Horseshoe Curve, it’s shady, so you’re not being baked.
A Cassandra resident noticed, so put in castoff restaurant tables and chairs.
He also started mowing.
The railroad threatened to remove the bridge after a chunk of concrete fell and clobbered a train.
It looks like the railroad also had to raise the bridge to clear doublestacks.
Eastbounds are climbing the west slope of Allegheny Mountain. It’s not as steep as the east slope. But helpers are used, and locomotives are in Run-Eight = assaulting the heavens.
Supper after Cassandra at Cresson-Springs Family Restaurant in Cresson (“KRESS-in”) along the railroad. My brother-and-I have eaten there often — they recognize us.
Cresson, next to the summit of Allegheny Mountain, once had a retreat called “Cresson Springs.” Mountain air was thought to cure disease.
At this time of year, light is still good after supper, so I had one more place in mind = a wooded cutout just west of the Route 53 overpass north of Cresson.
I set up and waited, hoping for a westbound.
All I saw was a westbound helper-set (two SD40Es); not a train.
But 590 was on my scanner, eastbound on Two on the old “New Portage Railroad” grade.
New Portage was an attempt by PA to make its combined canal/portage railroad more attractive than PRR. It replaced its original inclined-plane railroad.
The attempt failed, so Pennsy got the entire system for peanuts.
That included New Portage Railroad, which gave Pennsy a second tunnel atop Allegheny summit. (A third, since abandoned, was added later.)
New Portage located right next to Pennsy on the west slope toward the summit.
So now eastbounds often use New Portage Tunnel to top their climb.
590 and Y90 (a second section of 590) go to Baltimore to export coal.
Finally 590 hove into view — Y90 is Cassandra.


Lead units of 590 eastbound at the cutout. (Photo by BobbaLew.)

590 was gigantic. Car after 120-ton car; well over 100 cars.
Three helper-sets were on the rear; there may have been more up front. But they’re 6700s. The SD40Es are 6300.
The train was so long they had to be careful as it topped the summit. Climbing the west slope was still pushing, while the east slope was pulling down.
Pulling versus pushing could break the train apart at summit.
I’ve seen double helper-sets, but never three. Wet rail and a hyper-heavy train.
Those rear helpers could help avoid a runaway as the train descended the mountain.
It’s called “dynamic-braking.” The traction-motors of a diesel-electric locomotive are turned into generators that help brake the train.
Helpers previously turned at UN back down the mountain. Now, with dynamic-braking, those helpers also get used to descend as well as climb.
After what seemed like 15 minutes, 590 was finally gone. But I never saw a westbound at the cutout.

Friday, May 26th.
Back to reality — which is what I always say = Allegheny-Crossing is always a thrill.
Most importantly: no falls at all, and footing on railroad ballast is dreadful. (It’s my being overly careful, and perhaps better balance because of therapy.)

• “Shaddup-and-shoot” is the philosophy my brother-and-I have developed about train-photography. Just take the picture: ya never know what ya’ll get. A camera-chip holds hundreds of digital images. Yer no longer restrained by Yellow-Father (Kodak) to 24 or 36 exposures. My brother’s FABULOUS October 2017 fall-foliage picture is “Shaddup-and-shoot.”
• I had a stroke October 26th, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered. Just tiny detriments; I can pass for never having had a stroke.
• RE: “Run-Eight.....” —Diesel railroad locomotives have eight accelerator positions that increase fuel-delivery. Run-Eight is maximum fuel delivery.
• RE: “Inclined-plane railroad......” —The state’s first attempt at portaging Allegheny Mountain was an inclined-plane railroad; grading at that time was not what it is now. In order to get over the mountain, the portage-railroad had to have inclined-planes = grades of perhaps 8% (eight feet up for 100 feet forward) that couldn’t be operated by adhesion. To get up 8% a stationary steam-engine had to be atop the plane to winch up the cars.