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.  

  

"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....

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!