The Pot of Gold at the End of the Divided Highway

 

Mike and I managed a quick two-day visit to the Salamanca-Olean area, where the Alco/MLW power on the Western New York + Pennsylvania Railroad was a-calling.

Pardon us if we chased, photographed, and hereby blogged a pair of Big M’s to excess. Over the two days, we caught them on the Driftwood job, then on a quick turn to Pennsylvania for fuel, and finally on the run to Salamanca to interchange tank cars with the quite-invisible B+P.

Our brutally early call and speedy drive down the QEW netted us nothing in terms of early morning B+P activity. At 10:00, with the southbound BFSI declining to show at East Salamanca, we hopped on the interstate and motored onwards to Olean. We arrived just as the WNYP was firing up the day’s power on the shop track.

Big M’s 637 and 638 were earmarked for a run over the Keating Mountain to deliver Fracking Sand to a drilling company in Emporium. It was a glorious chase down the winding valley roads. My photos generally show the power with clean stacks, but rest assured: the gritty beasts showed their true colour – soot black – all the way down and back.

I came away with a couple of videos, which hit the bullseye in the audio track. On that basis alone, I’m declaring the trip a huge success. The still shots are rewarding also.

 

 

 

To Hornell and Back

WNYP runs to Hornell infrequently. On our second day, we lucked out and caught one such movement in perfect sun.

The twentysome cars delivered to Hornell were apparently a remarkably large train for this route. Few industries remain on the line.  The former Hornell rail shops, now a carbuilding plant, had the same atmosphere as the current rail service: we’re at work, but our pace and our output is measured. All in good time.

Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful route. The westbound run – two locomotives and two cars rolling steadily into a setting sun – had plenty of sweet moments.

 

 

 

Rust Never Sleeps – but a nap or two keeps change at bay

 

When I first came here, back in the Conrail era, the position signals and rusty old bridges were already vintage. Yet, in the day, one could look at the rusty iron and imagine the old Eastern Railroads in their full glory: a new coat of paint, a little double track restored, and the pace of change would have been plausibly denied. The heavy 1943-dated rail speaks volumes……to have committed so much precious steel amid competing wartime priorities is a tale of urgency and necessity.

A few decades have passed, and even the Rust Bowl era is beyond recreation. This is backwoods country now. Only skeletal branch lines are required to handle the dwindling traffic. What little riveted and forged metal remains is irrelevant to the operation.

In my own mind, I am moving through the stages of change….beyond denial, into negotiation, but not quite at acceptance.

The rusty bits of old infrastructure still matter, as they complement the equally vintage locomotives that roll past. But when the Alco’s disappear – I fear this is now a “when” and not an “if” – there will be no room for negotiating with the calendar for more visits.

I hope the final old structures and signal masts disappear as well. That will require acceptance.

 

Leaving Them, Wanting More

One bad decision needs redress. The funky abandoned signal plant at North Eldred sits alongside a busy road with very poor parking. We staked out the northbound fuel move, which took its time to arrive. Sitting in the rain, becoming rattled by the incessant heavy truck traffic roaring by just inches alongside our car, I impulsively elected to change location – just as the power finally arrived on scene.

The ingredients were there for a great shot, but I didn’t quite get parked and in position in time. A mere two minutes’ patience would have brought the train right where I wanted it. All I could say was, “Next time………”

 

 

 

I am slowly learning the Buffalo line’s features, so we found some of the route’s better photo spots. Planning shots in the heat of pursuit is a challenge, however.  Next time, knowing that I have some good shots in the bag, I can be more selective and take more time to plan – there is far more photographic potential in the Big M experience than we achieved this time..

The old adage fits. I want more. Before it is gone.

I’d better get back soon.