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Tuesday, May 6, 2025

Endoscopic Surgery at Amherst



You may have heard that half of the current SNR came from our last house.  When it was adapted to the new house, the "bridges" segment was placed at an angle to the wall, rather than flat against it, as previously.  This required a change to the track alignments in the tunnels, where they run through the wall and around into the staging loops.

The green are the sections that came from the old house, and the blue is the new construction to link them together in the current house.



The lower level of the "bridges" segment (leading to Amherst, Va. staging) already had a transition joint on the curve, from code 83 to 100.  Moving that section to the new house required an additional joint in the code 100 -- and that landed right where the approach entered the freshly-chopped hole in the concrete block wall.  I installed roadbed into the hole from the other side, with the track already spiked to it -- but sadly the alignment was less than perfectly linear.

Nonetheless, things ran -- until, over time, they did not.  Several years ago, the Mallets started popping their pilot trucks off.  I fixed this, in a Vice-Grip Garage sort of way, by not running Mallets to Amherst anymore.

Recently, though, the Broadway Consolidations, whose bread and butter is working between Amherst and Millsbrae staging, started departing the rails utterly.  They would exit the tunnel entirely on the ties, and grind their way valiantly back up onto the rails -- except it was onto the guardrails of the bridge.

No choice now -- it had to be corrected.  But how? 



I'd already tried to fix the transition joint, on a curve, deep within a mountain, between the tunnel liner walls which could not be removed without dismantling the whole end of the layout.  Yyyeah.  That effort resulted in leaving myself a note on the tunnel roof inside the mountain -- along with a stern warning...

     



Since both joints are at least 3' away from the viewer after "mountaintop removal", I took a closer look with the Borescope.  The "alignment" on the code 100 joint was awful enough (bad Keith!) -- although it may have been a casualty of humidity change, too.  But the transition joint was astounding -- one side had come completely unsoldered over time, likely from my failed attempts to fix it... on a curve, between tunnel walls, from 3' away.  Per the signs.  

     



Dead.  The only choice at this point was to rip out the entire curve, from the end of the bridge at Dominion around to the throat turnout in Amherst staging, and replace it outright.  And that meant with a single, 9' length of flextrack done properly:  soldered on the workbench, in free air, in a straight line, and at eye level -- and cut to fit in place.  So it was going to have to go in through the tunnel portal, like endoscopic surgery.

After substantial stewing, I determined how long each piece of flex needed to be to place the new joints on the shallowest parts of the curve possible.  And since I'm not Edward Scissorhands, there was no way I'd be able to spike the new track down accurately, from 3' away, on a curve, in between tunnel walls.... So I ordered up an assortment of 3 million teeny self-tap screws, figuring I could go straight down from above.

After this much planning -- and stewing -- I felt I'd finally gotten the odds shifted into my favor that the SNR would ever run again.  So I took a deep breath and started ripping out 32-year-old trackwork (along with its 24-year-old bandaids).



     

The removal wasn't as bad as I thought.  There were only a couple of feeder pairs, and not too many inaccessible spikes.  Luckily I could get my arm into the wall from the staging side to clean everything up, without even having to move the refrigerator.  I marked the alignment before removing the old track, so I'd be able to replicate the curvature.  Flushed with success, I treated myself to some Operator's Fuel Pellets.


 

The first task in the rebuild was the transition joint.  I've done a million of them, with all the 83-to-70 joints that are on the layout -- but as a species they are not renowned for their sideways shear strength.  So I did this 83-to-100 guy on the workbench, girding each side with some .039 bronze rod, so it would hold true when flexed into a curve.  I freakin' dare it to come loose.   



Now since a 9' length of flextrack would be... well, flexible... to the point of being unwieldy... I did the second joint in situ at Dominion, once I'd worked the first 6' section up the pipe via the tunnel portal.  When the solder had cooled, the whole 9' length could then be snaked the rest of the way in.



     

The screw idea worked like a champ.  I used a 7mm length, which would go through the ties and all of the cork, but not hit the plywood subroadbed and start fighting, lest it wreck the alignment.  I predrilled holes liberally down the whole length of the hidden piece, not knowing which ones I'd be able to reach. The visible end got spikes as normal.    



Over on the staging side of the wall, I could get to the approach section readily, with only minor contortion and personal injury.  So that track got spiked into the homasote like usual.  Following the original alignment markings got me a straight joint at the throat turnout, too, and with the transition curve intact.  I then left the straight segment, through the wall, to float.  

Last step was reconnecting the feeders, which was a bit of a challenge, holding on to the soldering iron by little more than the cord, but it got done. 

Oh yeah I also needed to cut a gap into the curve after the fact, so that staging's master kill switch would work. 🙄  That was accomplished with a Dremel, many spikes, and piles of gap-filling ACC carved to rail shape.  



    

But hey -- first test, and behold!  Mallets' pilot axles stay on the rails!  Even Consolidations' drivers stay on the rails!  And the right rails, too!  



Phew -- I had been dreading this job.   I guess this is why normal people tear old stuff down and start over -- 'cuz it's so much easier.  But where's the fun in that?  🙂

Thanks as always for reading, and let me know what you think!







EPILOGUE


In an image time-warped back from the 21st century, the SNR has been bought, and its original line through the Blue Ridge abandoned.  I'm told that at the date of this photo, negotiations will be under way to transfer the RoW to the Commonwealth of Virginia for use as a bike trail, although the removal of the venerable truss bridge will have presented a challenge.  



  







Monday, March 17, 2025

"The Peanut Route"


Well we're all pretty excited here at SNR headquarters...  Three Notch Rail's custom run of Accurail Centerflow hoppers, factory painted for the SNR, has hit the streets! 


The artwork features the traditional SNR hex herald, time-warped forward into the Big Graphic Design era 
as a "multi-mark", for friends in the "modern" period.  (Yes, 1975 is "modern".  😉)  
The herald also channels the Burlington Northern's " 'N' that isn't there," that was so fascinating to me as a kid.



Much appreciation goes to Patrick Harris of Three Notch Rail for another custom run of SNR cars.  And a big thanks as well goes to all the guys who jumped in and bought copies for their own railroads -- I believe the run is already sold out.



Now, several of those friends -- especially guys who run waybill routing systems, who care deeply about such things and document them -- brought up the same question about their new SNR covered hoppers:

        ¿"OK, what's in them?"



Well y'know, I'd never thought about that before.  Grain always works, but what about something more specific to the SNR?   And the answer was quickly obvious:

            👉"Peanuts."



Suffolk, VA sits in the middle of a rich peanut growing region.  In fact, Barri and I named US 460 from Petersburg to Suffolk "The Peanut Route", so our boys would understand which road we were planning to take, on our trips down to the NC Outer Banks.  (This was in contrast to "The Bridge-Tunnel Route", which meant killer industrial and maritime scenery for boys, with spirited language and bursting neck veins from Dad, charging headlong through the insanity of Hampton Roads on I-64.) 


On 460, the bucolic 45-mile stretch of 4-lane highway runs almost constantly through peanut and cotton fields, and is paralleled the whole way by the N&W mainline to Norfolk and Lambert's Point.  It's also paralleled by the original RoW of the SNR, chartered north out of Suffolk, toward Petersburg and Richmond, in 1852. 




Upon my explaining all this, my friend Robbie Vaughn (L&N/Family Lines) said: 

"Seems like 'The Peanut Route' ought to be a slogan on a boxcar somewhere."   



Well there's something else I never thought of.  As much as every named thing on the SNR is an inside joke or buried reference, that idea never found a place to grow.  

So here we are, three weeks later, and look what just rolled into at Yaeger Yard:


SNR's subsidiary, the Southern Shore Line, hasn't gotten around to repainting all of its equipment to include the corporate overlord's herald yet, given it's only been 6 years since the 1946 acquisition.  This double-sheathed USRA car is still wearing the scheme from its last repaint, in the '30s -- along with many layers of soot.



The Southern Shore Line is analogous to the Atlantic Coast Line and Seaboard Air Line.  As an Appalachian coal hauler, the SNR was ahead of its time in acquiring a gateway route to the South -- grabbing the SSL, and leaving the C&O and N&W to fight over the SCL and the Southern, years later.  



By contrast to the wooden car still showing the slogan, this all-steel car (which has been on the layout a while), has had an overhaul since the 1946 merger, including new Youngstown doors, and a power hand brake.  We know now that the updated paint job that came with the rebuild must have obliterated the quaint SSL slogan -- replacing it with the conglomerate insignia carried by all the SNR subsidiaries.  


The SSL is named for the town of Southern Shores, NC, where our beach house is located... which has been our destination when travelling via "The Peanut Route" since 2002 (get it....).  And as it happens, that fertile peanut-growing region extends the full length of those southern coastal plains through which all three of the coast "Lines" pass, all the way to the Florida panhandle..  It was only natural that the SSL should be the subsidiary that would get to wear "The Peanut Route" slogan.  Great call, Robbie!  😉



Well listen, thanks for taking the time to read this.  The backstory, rationale, and references are as much fun as the modeling, for me at least.  

And especially, if you've acquired a Centerflow or two, thanks for honoring the SNR with your interest.  Shoot me a pic if one's made it onto the layout already.

Cheers!  Would love to hear what you think....








Friday, January 10, 2025

Weathering and Vanderbilts

 



WEATHERING LOCOMOTIVES


Look at this beauty!   


In 1952 the war-baby Berks are the pride of a well-maintained steam fleet,
but still get good 'n dirty between shoppings, from a lot of hard work.  


If you've ever operated on the SNR, you know there's a satin sheen that envelopes the motive power here, making the entire fleet look like it just got delivered.  And you probably also know that it's because when it comes to weathering locomotives, I am complete chicken-$#!+.  Diesels have been in SNR paint for 10+ years, and steam for twice that, yet the only engines I've ever weathered are the scrappers.  (Well OK, plus the Barrett County's Heisler.)  So how did this workaday look suddenly come about?

In December I was having a conversation with my friend John Pyles, who mostly goes by "Maynard" (long story), and the subject of weathering engines came up.  Several key facts emerged from the ensuing discussion around my self-acknowledged chicken-$#!++iness , most notably that Maynard:

a). does not despise airbrushing, unlike the other party to the discussion, 
b). loves to weather engines, 
c). has done so professionally, 
d). is currently retired, and, 
e). is currently out of engines to weather.   

Like a razor-thin shaft of sunlight illuminating a Druid vault on the Solstice, my world suddenly lit up.

                       👉"Need a retirement job?" 😍



I was actually kidding, but Maynard was insistent that he'd love to take on the SNR's roster.  And that he was affordable.  

I was feeling guilty about the idea, but 20 or so years ago I overcame similar guilt and let my friend Bob Kress (Kentucky Central) weather the first 250 or so freight cars for me.  OK, "let" is probably a bit too Tom Sawyer, but Bob did also enjoy weathering, and was happy to get the freight fleet going for me, as his retirement job.  So why not get over the same hump with locomotives?  




Even though S-4 #175 is only 3 years old, being a sooty Alco product, 
she's already acquired a light coating of grime.  Most importantly, the satin sheen is gone!



So yes, that project is underway.  The work is beautiful, everything still runs (always my greatest fear), and most importantly, I don't have to do it.  

Presented above are the first two subjects.  There's a transit box with 5 more recent graduates in it waiting to come home, and an equal number of candidates ready to be delivered to Maynard.  At this rate, he'll be available again within a few months (😉), if you're in a similar boat.  

I'll show you the progress -- watch this space.







VANDERBILT TENDERS


Speaking of hardworking steam locomotives, it is widely acknowledged, by people who are me -- and possibly by others -- that the three coolest and most aesthetically pleasing design phenomena in the entire history of our constructed environment are:


  1. Tailfinned automobiles;         2. Art Deco anything; and                 3. Vanderbilt tenders. 



I mean really -- who wants to drag a shoebox behind their engine when they could have such a beautiful, geometrically-compound expression of form following function?  It has been a tenet since the beginning of the SNR that one of its signature "looks" would be a corporate preference for Vanderbilt tenders across most of the fleet, kinda like the B&O.  But all of the steam suitable for the SNR came with bricks.  So they'd have to be converted.

I started off with the Heritage Berkshires, as seen above.  Yes they're Kanawhas, in deference to the C&O, but many years ago my friend Darren Williamson (IHB) swapped out their giant VanSweringen cisterns for these really attractive long-distance Vandies made by Spectrum.  (And now they're weathered!)

Problem was, there just aren't many other examples out there that were offered as tenders only.  MDC made a well-proportioned one years ago, but they're really short.  Those will go well on the Consolidations, for local work -- but what about Mikes and other mid-range engines?  Spectrum also had an offering in the medium-distance size, but they have one problem:  they're fugly.  


Check it out -- everything's looking pretty good, except... whoa, the coal box is taller than the cab!  Huh?  It sticks up above the tank like Dr. Who's phone booth.  And on this first one we tried, with a BLI Mike, it keyed up with the cab overhang on a curve, and derailed the tender!


Crunch!  And that's with a lengthened drawbar, too.  
No engine small enough to run this tender could possibly be tall enough for its gooney coal bunker!




And I could hardly find any prototype shots of tenders that looked anything like this, either.  The vast majority have the coal box rising just slightly above the tank, like you'd expect.  Maybe with some extended sideboards here and there, but nothing like this.  I can't imagine what led Spectrum to create a universal model in the form of the ugliest and least-seen adaptation...?  Oddly enough, in the oil version, the oil bunker fits perfectly with the tank.  Only the coal version looks like a Sasquatch on a horse.

Anyway, I stewed for quite some time over what to do.  I had bought several NIB models, and really wanted to use them, but I just couldn't stomach the dorkiness -- it destroyed the aesthetic I was after in the first place.  And the thought of sectioning those coal bunkers and getting them glued back together smoothly just filled me with agita.  

Ultimately it occurred to me that since both oil and coal versions were offered, the bunker had to be removable -- and a few weeks ago I finally dragged one out and sat down to find a way.  Sure enough, with enough disassembly, I could get the bunker separated from the tank, and could then slice off 5/32" from all the bottom edges.  Thankfully there were no rivet lines on the bunker sides.  Then with a bit of extra trimming and fussing, I was able get it all back together squarely and screwed down tight, and without compromising the speaker.  


Like James Dean's '49 Merc, the chopped-and-channeled version 
just looks undeniably cooler than the dowdy, old man's conveyance it started from.   




Whew!  So I'm working through converting the rest of the inventory while I can still remember how I did it.  The first one took two years, and the second one took an hour.  (Two, if you count reworking the ccrappy coupler box.)  We'll be swapping them in for the USRA coffins on the Mikes, 2-10-2s, and Pacifics over time.  Then we'll take a look at fitting decoders and sound into those MDCs...






Thanks as always for reading, and let me know what you think!   













 



Wednesday, November 27, 2024

November Anniversaries

 


30 YEARS OF OPERATIONS ON THE S.N.R.!

November 1994 was an important month in the history of the Suffolk Northern.  For one, I broke my leg skiing at Breckenridge, CO, and spent my Thanksgiving weekend getting a titanium rod screwed down the center of my left tibia**.  That hardware is still in place.

** -- What does that have to do with the SNR you ask?  Well not much really -- 
mainly it was the "other" big thing that happened that month.  
Although the downtime from being in the cast did allow me to get the 
Central Valley truss bridge built for the river crossing at Dominion.  👍🙂




But more importantly, just before that happened, the original crew and I held the first shake-down operating session on the SNR -- at least, on the portion of it that was in the previous house.  I was proud to have gotten that far with the layout, a mere two years after buying the place.  What's better is that like the titanium rod, that layout is also still in existence -- it just got moved to the Apple Hill house, and expanded to the current configuration.

So in celebration of 30 years of operations, I thought I'd reprint a page from the website that follows the four stages in the layout's evolution -- affectionately called "HO Railroad That Grows," after the classic old Kalmbach book. That's down at the end of this post, following the announcements. 

It's operating with friends that makes the whole enterprise come to life -- it's the big payoff on all the effort and time.  The modeling and layout-building are just there to form a map on which to play the game -- at least to me.

So come celebrate with me.  And if you've operated over here, thanks for being a part of it.  Take a look below to see how it came to be.




ACQUISITION OF A LONG-SUFFERING SPOUSE

November is also the month of our wedding anniversary, and 2024 marks 35 years.  I'll spare you the mushy details, but I thought you might enjoy the card I created for Barri.



Tanks    for 35 great years

I don't know what you ever saw in me...

And after this card, you may be wondering yourself...



Let it be known that I did not, and would not, set out specifically to acquire two tank cars with our names on them just to create an anniversary card.  That would be pretty tacky.  Even for me. 

BUT -- having already acquired those two models... innocently... independently of one another... I would be remiss in my role as a smartass not to use them, to remove the seriousness from what otherwise is a pretty important event.  I believe it was Barry Goldwater who said "Extremism in the pursuit of comedy is no vice."  Or was it Stan Freberg.  

Anyway -- having a couple of well-developed senses of humor is fundamental to what's kept us together for so long.  Thank God she tolerates the railroad, let alone me.  It's a wonder I push it like this...




THANKSGIVING



Speaking of being thankful, November brings with it Thanksgiving.  And always at the top of the list of things I'm thankful for, just after my family, is the hobby of a lifetime -- and especially, friends to pursue it with.  Just as we led in with, it wouldn't be worthwhile if guys didn't enjoy coming over to run my railroad with me.  Or at least, tell me they do.  It was my primary goal for the whole expedition.  Friends old and new, from 4 years to 45.  Can't beat it.

So a very happy Thanksgiving to you and yours -- and please remember, you're on somebody else's list too.  







H.O. RAILROAD THAT GROWS

"I get attached to things, Reggie!"
-- Nick Nolte, Another 48 Hours

I wouldn't say I never throw anything away.  But I pretty much hate to throw things away.  Especially if they've got remaining value, and/or, invested "sweat equity".  And I definitely hate to do things over.

There is some combination of influences at work that includes:
    • The lazy man,
    • The thrifty Dutchman,
    • The conservationist,
    • The waste-abhorring accountant, and
    • The aging frugal Dad.

Anyway, the current Suffolk Northern contains elements from (count 'em) three prior layouts.  I didn't exactly begin life in the hobby with the expectation I would re-use almost everything I'd ever built.  However, every time I had the opportunity to build a new layout, the previous one just seemed to fit right in.  The real estate developer will tell you it's cheaper just to bulldoze and start fresh, but for me that wrecks a lot of character and history.  Plus I like the challenge of adapting what's already in existence.

The track plan below shows the evolution of the current SNR.




I built the Timesaver the summer between high school and college, mainly to prove to myself I could handlay track, so that I'd never have to do it again.  I even cut my own ties on a table saw - my friend Darren Williamson is fond of pointing out that such an effort should have yielded approximately 4x as much sawdust as product.  (It did.)  The Timesaver folded up so it could be carried, like a briefcase, and the original hinges are still in place under the buildings in St Amour.  It's bumpy track, but reliable - fairly ideal for an industrial area.

I extended the Timesaver into the shelf layout for the first apartment my wife and I had, which was the first floor of a two-family.  From there it went with us on a two-year assignment to Seattle and back.  It featured staging on a piece of shelving that could be attached to the RH end, allowing cuts of cars to be moved on and off the layout similar to a car ferry.  That shelf is still in use too (although now stationary), above the workbench. The house sits at the corner of Stettinius & Erie avenues, giving name to a key SNR predecessor road.

In the previous house I re-used the shelf layout as the back half of the industrial switching district, St. Amour, which was handy since the building flats were already done for it.  The layout occupied about a 12' x 16' space, plus the staging loops around and behind the bridge module.  The house sits at the corner of Millsbrae & Atlantic avenues, also giving name to a key SNR predecessor road.

When we moved into the current house, some of the track alignments had to be changed at the interfaces with the new parts, but the components are all substantially the same as when originally built in 1993-94.  




Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!
















Friday, November 8, 2024

SNR Centerflows!


This just in -- Patrick Harris, of the Three Notch Rail FB group, who did the special run of SNR 3-bays earlier this year, has just announced a run of Accurail Centerflow 4600sf covered hoppers, factory decorated for the Suffolk Northern.  Patrick's FB page is at https://www.facebook.com/groups/4133403420112674.

If you are interested, we need to act fast -- in 24 hours, almost half the run has been reserved!  Details follow.



The design uses the SNR's 1968 multi-mark, which graces the Evans boxcars many of you modernist guys have running around, with the same Futura font.  If you're curious how the SNR's signature hexagon ended up 7' tall and time-warped into the future, check out Suffolk Northern Ry.: Evolution of the Herald.

The run will include two road numbers, and the build date is 1975.  Price is $28 per car, plus shipping.  The expected production date is late December to early January.  

👉As with the 3-bays, I will cover shipping in a big box for Cincinnati-area guys, COD, but I need to hear back ASAP, best by this Monday Nov. 11. 👈

For non-Cincinnati fans in the "SNR Nation" (really more like the "SNR Bus"!), you can pre-order them directly from Patrick's FB page.  You can also email Patrick at ThreeNotchRail@outlook.comAgain, run don't walk -- inexplicably, they are going like hotcakes.

If you've ever played Monopoly with me, you probably expect I'm making money on this somehow.😄 But no -- it's just quite an honor to see interest in the SNR at this level.


Thanks folks for all the interest and support!



  

Thursday, November 7, 2024

Finishing up at Bryan Ferry


They say "the last mile" is the hardest, and my layout is living proof.  There are countless bare spots covering only a couple of square feet each, yet they remain unfinished as the trains and years roll by.

Well I'm trying to knock out those eyesores one by one, and the most recent beneficiary is Bryan Ferry, Va..  The mains, hillsides, depot, creek, etc. were all completed back when, but the industrial area has gone begging -- for long enough!  




After adding ballast, weeds, and debris to the spur track, the first priority was pavement and sidewalks -- for the street that runs between the two main industries in town, Kress Milling Co. and the Aidan Castings Inc. foundry.


A while back the Railway improved the main crossing in town (over at the depot) with automated flashers -- and so in trade, closed the less-used Longdale St. crossing.  The former thoroughfare is now a stub that employees of the adjacent businesses use as a random parking lot.


 




The once-elegant brick pavement was obliterated entirely on the main by the ever-rising high iron, whereas on the industrial track... it was just left to deteriorate.  More bricks were unceremoniously pulled up out of the middle of the lanes to sink posts for the guardrail.






Next door, on the Aidan property, concrete storage bins for raw materials -- in the foundryman's four favorite flavors: sand, pig iron, limestone, and coke -- radiate from a single, pivoting unloader.  Both the bin walls and the heaps are sectioned in front, at the fascia, to fit the oddball space.  We talked about building the bins in a post earlier this year (link: "Bulk Storage for Aidan Castings").







In the current effort, the unloader got some finishing touches, including a transfer pit, a ring path for the conveyor's wheels to ride on, and of course, generous amounts of spillage.  







The foundry's yard is stained with rust from the countless  tons of iron that has been unloaded here to feed the furnace.  Much of it has been supplied by Allegheny Scrap Inc., up the way in St. Amour.  So the stockpile was made using chunks right out of the same supply that gons are loaded with.  







And like Allegheny Scrap's crane, Aidan's is also a BILD-OLL product, improved from a basic Walthers Scenemaster model with paint, weathering, cab glass, and foil for the treads.  And of course, a nameplate. (Click here to see the post about completing Alleghany Scrap.)  







Over at the mill, we can see the new order of business in post-war America has come to even little Bryan Ferry, Va., as a national conglomerate has recently purchased the venerable, locally-owned plant.  (If you'd been wondering why those two panels never got any weathering in the past 20+ years, now you know.  Just took a few decades to get around to having blue decals made.)







Kress Milling's lot was constructed the same way as Aidan Castings' yard and most of the other gravel paving on the layout:  a ballast blend is ground into wet plaster using an HO scale vehicle, creating ruts and chuckholes and exposed mud.  Tread impressions are added too, where tracked machines are in use.  The plaster is then painted with a wash of mud color, and then fresh gravel is applied sparingly to the perimeters, where it might have escaped getting driven into the dirt.  







And after all these years, the coal that Kress Milling receives each day finally has a storage bin, and the sideyard under the viaduct has some texture.


The corrugated iron covers an underground conveyor, which feeds fuel from the storage bin into the mill's boilerhouse.  You can see a depression in the coal heap where the conveyor has carried away half a carload's worth of coal.  






So that's (hopefully) one less eyesore.  Thanks as always for reading, and let me know what you think!
















Friday, August 30, 2024

A Bridge and a Cut

The Track Dept. has undertaken a couple of projects recently, to shore up the Railway's continuing ability to haul coal at volume.



TRUSS BRIDGE UPGRADE



In late 1994, I had the mainline complete on the original SNR portion that was in the Millsbrae & Atlantic house,  except for one crucial piece -- the gap across the James River at Dominion.  At the time the only real choice for a long single-track bridge was the lacey Central Valley Pratt truss.  It was a craftsman kit, which was more than I really wanted to tackle right then, but -- since this was the final obstacle to operations, I dove headlong into it.  

Now you probably know the term "kit" in this case is an ironic wink/nod to a thick pile of dissociated plastic shapes, and a stick-figure diagram of miter angles.   I was able to get the deck in place fairly quickly, but the truss took me another eight elapsed months to finish.  (Naturally within minutes of its completion, Walthers introduced a beefy truss bridge of similar dimension that takes only an evening or two to assemble.  But I'm not bitter... ) 

Anyway I was pleased with the result, but it had two major drawbacks:

  1. It's a spindly iron design from the turn of the century (the last century), more suited to a granger branch than a coal-hauler's heavy mainline.  One system of diagonals is just a pair of pin-connected strap bars... And the opposing diagonals are even weenier, being just a pair of tie-rods.
  2. In the kit, the tie-rods are strung using plastic monofilament, which I over-tightened in a me-like fashion** to such an extent that they were actually deforming the truss into a bow.  So I cut them, allowing the truss to relax and spring back to its preferred trapezoid shape, which was much more pleasing to the eye***.  But now there were random disconnected tie-rods rattling around, if you cared to notice.

Friends claim they never noticed the weedy floating tie-rods, but then "they might be jivin' ya too".





My friend Tom Patterson wrote an article for MRH in 2011, in which he demonstrated how he'd shored up the same model for his Chesapeake Wheeling & Erie, also a coal-hauler.  I've always admired all the bridgework on the CWE while operating at his place, and in particular wanted to apply this same procedure to my CV truss.  Tom's version of course is the "gold standard", done to the 9's with heavy CV box-girder diagonals perfectly mitered into place, new custom gusset plates, a bunch of details improved, and beautiful weathering.  

Here's Tom's gorgeous example -- click here for the November 2011 issue of MRH. 




Having already spent 1% of my total lifespan on the original kit, however, I was loath to go to such an extent on an upgrade.  So I opted for the SNR "zinc standard", which is just sufficient effort to move the needle from "Silly" to "Good Enough For Operations".  

To replace the tie-rods, I used the lighter of the two CV girders -- the same ones the kit uses as verticals.  They don't provide quite the added beef as Tom's approach did, but importantly, they could be tucked through the latticework and into the box girders that form the top and bottom chords, without all that exacting surgery.  I re-used the strap bars, and passed them through the centers of these new diagonals.  


Tom went for maximum brawn too by converting the truss to a Warren design, with those big, heavy diagonals forming the zig-zaggy pattern of Charlie Brown's sweater.  I kept the original orientation on mine though, where all the compression members on one half of the bridge are parallel, and the halves oppose one another.****  It fits the lighter-duty diagonals better I think, like on a single-sheathed boxcar. 

🙏 Many thanks to good ol' Bill Doll, too (Forest Park Southern) for allowing me to raid the BILD-OLL Cranes, Inc. stash of Central Valley girders.



I finished it off with a coat of flat black (would you believe I'd never painted the thing), and a light rust wash with acrylics.  The result is way 80/20 -- not a contest winner, but looks substantially more stout than the original -- far less likely to collapse into the James under the weight of a giant Lima Berk.   







IMPROVED CLEARANCE AT WICKED RIVER


Hey speaking of Lima Berks, you may recall that the town of Segway is so named because it's where the Virginia Piedmont segués into the Blue Ridge.  It was intended as a division point, where the high-stepping 69"-drivered Berkshires (or, Kanawhas) are taken off of westbound freights, in favor of mule-legged Mallets which can take their sweet time grinding up the ruling grade.  

As it's played out, though, Segway doesn't really work as a division point.

  1. There's just not enough room to make Yaeger Yard big enough for such a function.  And,
  2. The engine terminal is tight even by SNR standards.  Shoehorning Mallets and Berks around the streetcar curves and onto the Heljan turntable, with scale inches to spare (usually), is a headache for the yardman, who is quite busy enough just keeping trains moving.
So a while back I thought I'd abandon this division point idea, and just let steam power run straight through, with the addition of a helper engine, of course.  Problem with that scenario was, there's one rock cut on a curve above Segway in which the Berks key up.  


#1812 is irritated to find itself jammed in the cut, just beyond the Wicked River viaduct.





Oddly, the much-longer Mallets, being articulateds, are slippery like worms and fit anywhere.  Whereas the "super-power" 2-8-4s, with their 4-wheel trailing trucks behind long rigid wheelbases, have a huge cab overhang -- devastating to a low-clearance road like the SNR.  


#1809 shows off her prodigious cab overhang at Claymoor.  Even on 28" radius, baby got back.




Just blast out the rock cut you say?  Unfortunately it's only about 1/2" thick, right up against the backdrop.  There just isn't much room for relief -- and the overburden clay sits flush right above it.  Didn't dare touch it, for the longest time.  But after running my own yard recently, I determined it was time to at least try -- and I had an idea.

Plaster dust clinging to the engines demonstrated that the main interference was coming from two wire handrails -- the grip on the back corner of the cab, and another one along the roof over the window.  Now I love my Proto Heritage 2-8-4s, but if Frank Ellison could remove entire valve gear sets from locomotives to improve operations, I certainly was willing to jettison a couple of detail parts you can barely see.  I figured it might also make negotiating those beasts through the service area a bit less dodgy, too.

 

Before & after the handrail removal -- ya kinda don't miss 'em.




So -- with the offending grabs removed from all the Berks, both sides, I ran a test train west out of Segway, and...  crunch.  SOB.  An improvement, but still.  Turns out the handrails were protecting the back corner of the cab roof, which now was the item presenting the evidentiary plaster dust.  So I just.....   naahh, couldn't possibly start trimming body parts.   

Time to tackle the dang rock cut after all.  I use cork tiles on edge for the strata, covered with a thin coat of plaster.  So with some delicate trial-and-error surgery with the needle-nose, thankfully I managed to free up enough clearance for the cab roof corners to pass in both directions, without creating a horizontal gash, or, striking wood.  (There now, was that so hard?)






Touch-up coats of plaster and ink washes pretty well hide the accommodation.  OK, well enough.






Now... here's why this story was worth telling.  Not saying we're never changing steam at Yaeger Yard again -- but we now do have options.  All kinds of options, really -- across the whole schedule.  Prototype steam did have regular assignments, but there were always exceptions.  Some variety will be great for freshening up the ops.
👉  Yard guys -- love to hear your feedback:  what's your level of irritation with the steam power change at Segway?  Can't wait to have done with it?  Or no bigs?





👂  And for everyone, thanks for reading -- and let me know what you think!   





FOOTNOTES


** I have a lifelong fear of being that wormy guy who doesn't tighten bolts adequately.  So I have a tendency to overcompensate -- to keep cinching things down until I either strip the threads, or bend the work.  A car friend once made me a set of diagonal struts for the nose of my 1962 Cadillac that would help quell the convertible "cowl flex", as he'd done with his own '62.  However, when I installed them, I cranked them down so tight I actually deformed the 3-piece front bumper into a crescent.  Brilliant.  


*** What's really interesting about this bridge is that, even with actual steel reinforcement inside the deck stringers, the truss actually does provide useful support, rather than just looking pretty.  With the truss superstructure removed, a locomotive will materially flex and sag the deck, a solid 1/8" or more at mid-span.  Whereas with it clipped in place under the cross-bearers, even with the old tie-rods cut, the entire span stays rigid.  This is not only cool, it is a big help in encouraging trains to stay on the rails.  More than "Life imitates art", I'd say this is something like "Life continues to happen, even in art".


**** OK, nerd time!  By replacing the weakest diagonals -- the tie-rods -- with girders, and keeping the lighter strap bars in the same orientation, technically what I created was a Howe truss.  In a Howe design, the heavier diagonals lean toward the centerline, and are in compression, with the verticals in tension.  Whereas with the Pratt, the opposite is true:  the heavier diagonals fall away from the centerline and are in tension, with the vertical members being the ones in compression..  

This explains the lacey look of the stock CV Pratt truss:  the thing is being held aloft entirely by the tension through pin-connected iron strap bars.  It also explains why one ought not run 400-ton Berkshires across it!  I didn't become a civil engineer because for starters I couldn't stomach the second semester of calculus (also see note on over-tightening, above**), but it still is fascinating as heck.  

If you're down for some additional nerd-gratification, try these:
  1. Bridge Types -- a great one-page overview of the various designs, if you've ever wondered, done by the Iowa D.O.T. of all people. 
  2. Practical Engineering -- one of my favorite YouTube guys, Grady Hillhouse, distilling civil engineering concepts into short digestible bites for the pedestrian.  With dry humor added.