Rainy Night at the Yard

Call this one forced futility. After heavy rain most of the afternoon, I figured a quick stop by the yard on the way home would yield a shot or two.

It did, kind of. The rain started as soon as my rickety tripod was set. I didn't have a lens hood, and I had to wipe my lens a few times while figuring out my exposure. It would be a short shoot, two frames, it turns out.

My first wide view of the yard, although I was hoping to shoot longer, as the yard was nearly empty. But better to preserve my gear, as the rain was getting heavier. The shot is of an abandoned switch, the blobby shadow beside it a photographer, holding a floppy hat over his camera, hoping his tripod doesn't slip. What is more futile than the fear of rain and a busted switch?

Mysterious Local

I had an assignment at 7:45 in the morning Thursday, with a following assignment at 9 am. I awoke expecting fog. There was some, but it was clinging to the ridge on the edge of town, instead of along the river. But as I was shooting my assignment the fog began to roll off the ridge and into the valley until it filled most of down town.

My assignment was short, and after I went to find the local. He was across the river, switching some cars. The morning sun was on him, and despite their faded paint, the Super 7 twins looked good.

While I was turning around, they dropped their cars and zipped across the river. Which made the shot I was hoping for impossible. I went back across the river, and the train headed south toward the Glass House, as Owens Illinois is known locally. It beat me across the river, but the fog was too thick to do anything except shoot through the bridge, which would have resulted in a big blobby triangle of light. And I couldn't get across the river in time anyway.

But I did get to the narrow spot where the Maysville Pike and the railroad come together, the pike slipping underneath via an ancient, rusting, center pier bridge that is the bane of local truckers. I could hear the train coming as I changed lenses, and as I ran across the road the triangle of lights appeared through the foggy trees like a UFO and the Super 7 twins and their two hoppers burbled toward me, their crisp lines softened by the fog. I shot wide, leaving in the foggy trees of the cemetery, the road, and the signs that hint at the narrow bridge. The fading blue B23-7rs rumpled past, the 4095's headlights and ditchlights casting long yellow rays through the thin fog.

Return to the Quiet Yard

During the short days of last year I would stop by the Ohio Central yard in downtown Zanesville and take photos. At the time the local's locomotives would spend the night downtown, leaving for Newark in the morning. The first thing that attracted me to the yard was the tiny front-porch light on a rebuilt geep. Then I looked around a little more, shooting the rickety tracks and the tank cars that occupied them. I shot a ballast train in the snow, and the peeling and flaking 40-foot C&O boxcar on the edge of the yard.

And then I stopped. The days got longer, and the local began to leave in the early evening- affording great opportunity to shoot in the nice evening light in a variety of locations- but ending my night shooting.

It was raining when I returned Monday night. Something about the drizzle- light, but soaking- drew me back. The local was long gone, but the tank cars gleamed in the misty night. The shots are not as good as the best from last year, but a start of another series. The night's are getting longer, and before long, the local will leave after dark, affording a world of new possibilities.

Recognition

09/14/06


I was passing through downtown Thursday afternoon when I noticed the ballast train was in town again, this time with the caboose on the north end. I couldn't see the power, but I figured it was the 1800, and hoped it was facing south. When I turned the corner, I could see that is was, the first time I have ever seen the thing without cars coupled to it's snout.

I parked, and walked trackside along Market St. The engineer looked up from his paperwork with something like alarm, and then gave me a 'ah, it's just you' look. I asked which way they were going, and he said to Newark, and asked me if I wanted him to turn off the lights on the engine. I said it was fine as it was, and he went back to his paper.

It wasn't long before he notched out that little MLW and it thundered off toward Newark. I would have chased it all day if I could have, but I had to go back to work. But it was a nice little break on a nice sunny day.

Heavy Train the Heavy Rain

09/12/06
It was pouring on Tuesday when I was on my way home for lunch. On into the house, I heard the coal train, and decided to eat quickly. When I hear the train across town when I get home, I have plenty of time to eat and still get north of town to shoot the train. I still ate and ran. The dog was disappointed.

As I drove north, the train got to a spot north of town where the road and tracks come together at the same time I did, and I slowed down to listen to the two big GEs on the front thunder along. While I am getting tired of the seeing the same two locomotives on the train for the past several weeks, they sure sounded good.

I went to a usual spot north of town, where the tracks curve between the cornfields and there is a place to park. I waited as the train crawled north, watching the trail of smoke as it rose above the corn, now head high.




If you look closely at the low quality web images, you may be able to pick out the rain drops. The engineer gave me a 'you again' look as he passed, but still waved.

Light in Retreat

09/06/06
The crew was getting on the local when I passed the yard on my way home from work, so I headed to the small lift bridge across the Muskingum River Canal to shoot the train. I had shot the local there before two times earlier in the summer, from both sides of the tracks when Gp30 4218 was leading. The Super 7 twins were on the train, and I thought about a different way to shoot the train.



With a bit of zoom, you can look through the bridge, and shoot the train passing through the dogfood factory along side a row of boxcars. So I did. The power is in light shadow, while much of the rest of the scene is in hazy sunlight.

Having shot the train at State Street too many times to count, I headed west to the first crossing outside of town, by the foundry I repeatedly try to shoot the train passing.

This time, the sun was behind the trees before the train came, meaning the chasing season was just about over. Soon I will be lucky to get the train at the bridge, and then it will be nothing but night shots until next spring.

Locals of the Ohio River Valley

08/31/06
With a day off Thursday, I wondered where to go in this great state o' mine. Somewhere new? Somewhere once visited? Nowhere? I looked at the rail map of Ohio in a recent Trains magazine. My wife suggested Steubenville.

It was an intriguing idea. I had been there several times before, most recently in April, which was my first trip devoted only to trains. It was close, scenic, but not a lot of trains. The light would leave the valley early, but since I had to be home by 6 for Lemaz class, it would work out ok. If it didn't rain.

It was solid cloud cover when I woke up Thursday, so I didn't hurry out the door. I made my wife lunch, and saw her out the door before getting ready to go. Ended up leaving at around 7:30, well past sunrise, not that it was visible anyway.

By the time I was east of Cambridge, the sun was breaking through the clouds, but by the time I got to Bridgeville, it had settled behind some thin clouds that cast a soft yellowish light over the region. By the time I got to Steubenville, it had grayed somewhat, but it was still not too terrible.

The scanner was going on and on, with scarcely a pause for breath, and I didn't really understand any of it. Both the NS and WLE appeared to switching the yards in Mingo Junction, but I couldn't tell if any actual trains were out there anywhere. So I headed across the river to take a look at the steel mill in Wierton, Wva.

It is an impressive place, sprawling in every sense of the word, sitting on the edge of town like a benevolent monster, slowly enveloping the area.

And yet it was fragile, too. The backside, away from town, was silent and decaying. Bumpy alleys lead to more abandoned buildings, and weeds and trees covered empty lots. I got out and took a photo of an abandoned tire place with the mill in the background, and then dashed back to my car as a Mittal (the company that owns the mill) security van drove past at the bottom of the hill. With Lemaz class, I really didn't want to spend all day getting my balls busted for taking a picture of an abandoned building.



With nothing much stirring in the train department, I headed south along the West Virginia side of the river. I poked along through Follansbee without any real idea of where I was going or why. Turns out the town is celebrating it's centennial this year. I rolled south, into Wellsburg, where I crossed the tracks to see if I could see into Mingo Jct yard, across the river. The rails were rusty, although there were some hoppers by a cool looking factory in the distance. A weed cutter was at work, thus precluding any trains, I figured. I thought wistfully of locals on rusty branch lines, and turned back north.

Just south of Follansbee I saw that wonderful, magical triangle of lights, and my heart leaped. A train. On the rusty branch line.

I was in a near panic as I looked for a place to turn the car around. Then I realized that the train might not continue south, and if it did, it would be moving pretty damn slowly.

I raced back to a wide spot in the road, and walked across the four lane road to shoot the local coming under the massive Wheeling and Lake Erie bridge. Then I walked back to the car, since the train didn't seem to be coming. No sooner had I gotten back across the road than the headlight appeared, and the train trundled under the bridge.

Across the road again, I climbed up on the guard rail, and did my best to balance on the post holding the thing up. I wobbled a bit, and when I gained my balance, I did the crane pose from Karate Kid, for the entertainment of the crew. I don't know if they got it, but the brakie gave me the metal fingers when he passed.



I headed south again, back into Wellsburg, and drove around a little bit looking for my shot. The giant lawn mower headed south, stopped in the weeds at what I presume would be the end of the line. The train slowly eased it's way through town, and an employee of the factory came out on a little porch to watch the train for a minute.



The train eased to a stop, and the brakeman went to find someone in the factory. When he came back he got up on the front porch for the short ride to the switch, after a brief exchange with the engineer through the cab window. (I should have shot this from the other side, but I didn't want to run in front of the train) The brakie hit the ground in front of him, having to nimbly step over the ground throw, and as we both grimaced from the engineer's horns blasts, he told me he hates those horns, they are so loud. He then threw the switch and hopped aboard the last car before I could reply. My brain was still temporarily addled from the close proximity of the horn blast anyway.





The train backed into the siding, and set about dropping off it's single hopper car. I watched from the crossing, and then the power came back, and the brakie stepped off in front of me again. He asked if got a lot of photos, and I told him I had. Is this the end of the line? I asked, and he replied he didn't know how far the line continued. I asked if they come down here often, and he replied only about twice a week. I said that yea, they had to clear a path for him and pointed to the weed cutter, and he said they didn't do a very good job. I wished him a safe trip back, and he bade me farewell.

I left the two engines to make their way back to Weirton. It appeared they were heading back light, and I wanted to find out what the Wheeling was up to. Back north.

From just north of Wellsburg you can see the back side of the steel mill at Mingo Jct, and some of the yards to the south. A train was switching the wheeling yard, and I wondered if they were going to go somewhere. Pondering this, I headed over to Mingo to sit and wait for something to happen. I wandered around some more, trusting the same instincts that found me the local to find me something else, but then ignoring them and sitting restlessly in a parking spot, listening to both the scanner and the radio. Suddenly I realize that the track closest to me carried the Ohio Central, hit or miss for trains at best, and the NS was behind the mill, and the WLE south of it. So I headed south.

No sooner had I turned the corner past the mill than I saw a the WLE's Akron, Canton and Youngstown painted GP35 on a bridge over the tracks, coupled with a shiny WLE-painted partner. The bridge was part of the enormous former Pittsburgh and West Virginia bridge over the Ohio that I had photographed before. I turned around and headed back across the river.

The train had pulled out on the bridge when I arrived, and after a quick shot through the trees, I thought perhaps it would head toward Pittsburgh. I went to find a spot, did, and headed back to make sure it would indeed go to Pittsburgh. I felt my afternoon slipping away.



The train backed across the bridge and disappeared. So back across the river I went. Again.

This time I followed the river north, hoping to intercept a train to chase south, and then leave for home. The yard chatter on the scanner disappeared, replaced by the sounds of someone switching somewhere else. As I neared the power plant at Stratton, the voices got louder and clearer, and then I spotted another former Conrail engine across the parking lot power plant.

Huzzah! I turned around, and drove over to the tracks. There was an engine on the other end, too, and I lingered long enough to make sure the train was heading north, and then split. My last visit to the area around the plant had me being unceremoniously booted, as I wasn't allowed to take pictures of a nearby GE 25 tonner.

I headed to Wellsville (not Wellsburg, which is in Wva) and found the little park I had shot from before. It was cloudy again, like last time. I read my book until the train showed up a half hour later. I shot it passing the little memorial, and headed north again.



At East Liverpool, I tried to remember my way through town. The funny little down town was crowded, and then I crested the hill and went down to the tracks. The train was already there, switching out an asphalt tank car. I set about photographing them switch a few other industries there.



When the ageing geep eased past on the weedy siding, I noticed it's cab side was betrying it's southern roots, with the gold band and unique sublettering system (in this case an X) of the Southern Railway begining to show through it's Norfolk Southern black. The SOU under the number was a sad tribute to one of NS' predecessors, the peeling gold band just made it worse.






I bounced back and forth between a few crossings as the locomotives on each end of the train set about spotting cars at an industry. At one I met a trucker from Ontario who was a few yards shy of his destination when the train blocked the crossing. When I told him what I was doing, he asked if I had ever been to Berea. He was impressed with the number of railfans in the parking lot there, hundreds, he said, waiting for a special train. I wished him luck in his travels, and moved down a crossing, where the rear engine, a former Conrail engine with red eyes was moving down the weedy siding.



While the engine was out of site, the conductor/brakie ignored me and a fellow from the business who's driveway I was using came over to see what I was up to. It took a few tries to convince him I wasn't from the paper, and told him I just traveled around taking pictures of trains. He told me it seemed like a good hobby, better than mine, he said. I asked what his hobby was, wondering if I really wanted to know. He was into RC cars, and we talked about how expensive they are for a really good one. When the engine coupled back on the train, I said goodbye and told him I was going to head north with the train. He wished me luck.



And off I went. The train was ahead of me by the next crossing, only a few hundred feet down the line. They stopped again, switching a grain elevator. I got a shot, but not a very good one, and headed north, now east, following the curve of the river toward PA to find one last shot.

In what the Delorme calls East End I found the almost last shot of my previous trip, and moved down a bit to include the former PRR position light signals.

The local would be on the far track, and the near one had a clear signal, so I kept looking down the tracks behind me, hoping against hope another headlight would appear. It didn't, but the local charging through the gloom past the signals was a fine sight. The weather had certainly deteriorated since the morning.



With the local roaring back toward Pittsburgh, I headed home. I was later than I wanted to be, and the specter of a late arrival to Lemaz class was haunting. Near Wellsville I saw a coil train in the distance, which almost tempted me, but I resisted and pressed on.

Just past Brilliant everything went topsy turvey when I came up against stopped traffic. After sitting a while, I saw a fire truck zip up the nearby on ramp, and I knew I was in trouble. A pickup came the other way, and the guy had his arm out, pointing to the on-ramp. I took the hint, as did others, and went down the on ramp. I felt clever until I came to the next off ramp down the road, and found there was no on ramp. I had a past a lot of smoke, and a large crowd of people standing around, but I couldn't see what was afoot. A line of cars disappeared into the woods, and I followed them until there was a place to pull off to check a map.

The map was not reassuring. The narrow red line I was on went way north, and connected to another to go way south again and get on the highway. But at least I was moving, so I pressed on. A few miles later I came across a tanker truck trying to back into a driveway, and I hopped out to guide him. When I stopped him from backing into a ditch, he jumped out and asked me where the road went. I told him it looked like the road came to another one about the same size, and you had to make a sharp turn to head back to the highway. I asked if he wanted to see it, and he said no, that he would follow me. I turned around, and there was a line of cars behind me. I women rolled down her window and as she was about to say something I said I hoped that someone knew where we were going. She laughed and said 'we are following you.'

So off we went. The road got even worse, to dirt, and then we came upon a traffic jam, with a pair of big rigs clogging up the intersection. A bunch of cars found a way around, and we all traipsed back into the woods. I wondered about my tanker friend, but figured he would be able to find his way out. Finally I got back to Ohio 7, and no cars were coming my way. So I guess we beat the reopening of the highway, even if it did mean a 20 mile detour. The rest of the trip home was uneventful, apart from a little rain, and I still made it home in plenty of time to get to Lemaz class.

The trains today were the C17 to Wellsburg, and the C10 on the main line.

Here is a photo that didn't really fit into the narrative. A lonely Conrail 2-bay hopper siding in a siding. The local didn't pick it up, and it looked kind of forlorn alone in the siding, next to a door that would be of no use to unload the car.

Business and Pleasure

A call came across the scanner about a wreck off the interstate, so my reporter went off to see what we could find. A semi had plunged down a hill, narrowly missing a building, and come to rest not far from the railroad tracks. The northbound coal train had already been through, so I was not expecting to see a train. But after we had been there a while, I heard an airhorn, and could see a southbound empty through the trees across the river. It would only take a few moments, and I could get a photo of the train and the wreck. Business with pleasure.

I waited around longer than I really need to go get the train, and it took a little longer after it showed up, because the conductor got off to make sure the tow truck wasn't fouling the tracks. Finally the run down GE, star of my GLT chase last Thursday, eased past and I got a frame or two.

Kind of ruined by the guy looking at me, but what to do, what to do.




Photo copyright Times Recorder 2006. Fortunately, the guy in the truck wasn't hurt, just a little banged up.

Cook Road Poles

08/20/06
I had to drop my mother off at the Columbus airport at 3 pm on Sunday. Since my wife would be at a bridal shower, I figured I could get in a few hours trackside somewhere in town. Unfortunately it started to rain on the ride west, and I figured my trip would be just a quick look at the Cook Road signals and then the hobby shop near by.

But by the time we got to the airport, the sun had come out. I left my mother in the care of Delta Airlines and headed west. I figured I could stop at the local railfan hang out Cook Road and check the signals, and then see if the hobby shop had anything interesting in stock.

Back at Cook Road, it wasn't too too long before the yellow nothing-around signal went red, indicating a southbound on NS. And then it was an hour before the train showed up. Since there was a big puffy cloud to the north, I decided to try a photo I had tried before, a low down shot of poles and sky. So I slipped and slide down the embankment between the CSX and NS, coming to a stop in waist-high underbrush. I waded through it, picking up various stickers and seeds until I was below the pole I wanted to include in the photo. A pair of bushes had sprung up since my last attempt, one where I wanted to stand, and one at the base of the pole. They were sturdy bushes, too, which precluded me adjusting them by the time the train came, which at that point, was blowing for the crossing and sure to burst into sight at any second. It did, obviously, a manifest zipping along pretty well, thundering past 10 feet above my head.



The train was mostly cars from the CN family, a train I have seen before, thick with W'S cars. There was a cut of sulfur tankers at the end of the train, and an aging DWP boxcar not far from the head end.

Then it was back to normal for a Sunday. Two yellow signals, which usually means a wait before the next train. So I fiddled around, reading the May issue of CTC Board and taking pictures of the peeling, Conrail-era trespassing signs on the CSX relay box.







I started to think about finding somewhere else to find trains, but then my wife called, shortly after the signals went red (indicating a southbound) and green (indicating a northbound) indicating I would stick around until they came and head home.

First up was the southbound, another manifest, this one heavy with gondolas. Back when I lived on Conrail, I would have been able to tell which train was which when they had recognizable cuts like the two trains I had seen today, but I don't know any NS train numbers.

The train snuck up on me, as I was paying more attention to the clouds covering the sun than the train. The high summer brush makes it harder to see the headlights down the tracks from the 'railfan' parking lot, too. But the shot was what I was planning, using the NYC-era signals on the CSX line in the foreground. A typical view of Cook Road. The sun filtered through the clouds just enough to light the train a little.



So much for wandering around Columbus looking for trains. It was time to head home, Chipolte in tow.

Delayed Meeting

August 24, 2006
Friday night football starts, well, Friday, which means coal train chasin' season starts too. I don't have to be at work until 1 on football Fridays, so I can head south and chase the Ohio Central's Glouster Turn north, usually arriving in Zanesville right about time for me to go to work.

But I figured I would get an early start to the season Thursday, when I had a morning assignment in New Lexington. I could get a shot or three of the coal train as it rolled north through the hinterlands of Perry County, leave it at New Lex and head to my assignment. So I left the house early and headed south.

When I got to Moxahela, I turned my head to a familiar sound through the trees to see a former Conrail C30-7 and the familiar red-ended Ortners thundering through the trees.

Damn. And there was a van behind me so I couldn't just whip the car around on Congo Road. By the time I was heading the right direction, the train was through the big curve at Moxy and gone. So I headed north the 'back way' to New Lex, to a spot in the woods with an old coal mine haulage road bridge I could shoot from. It is an afternoon spot for northbounds, but beggars can't be choosers. And good luck finding a northbound in the afternoon on the West Virginia Secondary. Good luck finding anything, actually.

The train was gone by the time I got to the bridge; I could hear it disappearing to the north.

I had heard the dispatcher talking to a train behind the GLT, so I headed back to Moxy, with hopes to catching him. But the GLT had stopped, having lost it's air just north of the New Lexington tunnel. So I headed north. Again.

I could see the leader from the first crossing in town, so I looked around for a spot. My mind was made up for me when the train started rolling toward the y from the NS to the OC. So I headed to a spot I have shot before, where the tracks come close to the road and you can see part of the town in the background. The sun came out just as the engineer gave the two big old GEs leading the train a bit of throttle, and let loose that wonderful gurgling chug and a beltch of smoke at the same time.

Worth waiting for, as usual.

Old Friends

August 22, 2006
I had a mission in Coshocton Tuesday morning, and I hoped to see my old friend the Ohio Central 1501 performing it's switching duties around town. I drove my wife to work for 2 weeks during various periods of car difficulties last year, and had photographed the former Pittsburgh and Lake Erie GP7 several times during that spell.

I usually take the long way into town, off the main road and over the railroad tracks, past the Ohio Central headquarters and down through the south side of town to follow the tracks. The 1501 was just pulling up to the first grade crossing when I arrived, towing some bulkhead flat cars and some coil cars. A set of coil cars was already on the main, so I knew he would have to combine the two sets of coil cars before heading off the AK Steel works. This would give me enough time to safely cross the tracks and find a spot to shoot from

The line passes through cornfields at this point, despite being only a mile or so outside of Coshocton. I drove away from the tracks and set up to shoot the venerable geep across the fields. I went both vertical and horizontal, shooting tighter to avoid the poles. I like poles in general, but these ones didn't really do much for the photo, so I avoided them.




With a few shots on the card, the train roared off to the south while I went into town to finish my mission.

Once I got to Zanesville and finished my chores, I took my usual path past the yard on the way home. Two blue Super-7s were sitting in the yard, but RS18 1800 was tucked away at the other end. The 1800 usually shows up towing a handfull of ballast hoppers, this time it was alone with a single tank car.

I had spent a pleasant few moments last winter photographing the 1800 as it burbled away the night, spitting sparks on the same siding. I had photographed it a few times as it pulled ballast cars through town. It is always nice to see the 1800, so I stopped to make some more photos of the only RS18 in Ohio.

I was on the dark side of the engine, so I tried to accentuate the long snout of the handsome beast. Then I got down low, and the flare of the clean gray front of the cab gave the resulting image a dreamy feel.





I went over to the sunny side of the locomotive- access was easy as there is a bike path along the west side of the yard, the former PRR line. But the sunny side wasn't quite the same, just a front coupled roster shot of an engine that appeared to be tilted down to the front.

Boxcars

A recent visit to railroadforums.com revealed that their August photo assignment contest was boxcars, and I immediately thought of a scene I enjoy looking at as I pass nearly every day.

It is a photograph I have made before, both during the day and at night. Best in the late evening sunlight, it would probably be good in the snow or fog, but these opportunities have not yet presented themselves.

There is a dog food factory in town that ships by rail, either inbound or outbound. Boxcars line the side of the factory in a scene that harkens back to the glory days of railroading, before intermodal and retrenchment.







The most recent photo, at top, was taken in the first week of August. The other two in the summer of 2005.

Fresh Paint Interlude

August 14, 2006
I was on my way back from Corning when I saw the familiar triangle of lights as I passed over the Ohio Central near Crooksville. So I turned around and found a spot to take a picture. I had not taken a lunch break, so I thought I could take a few minutes to watch a train. It had just finished raining, and the sun was doing it's best to evaporate the puddles, creating a mist that hung overhead like a veil.

I found a little crossing that I had never shot from before, and waited for the train, which was only creeping. I lined up a shot with a row of mailboxes in the foreground and waited for the train to roll into view. When it did, I was surprised how clean the leading locomotive was. Then I noticed the number.

4027? Evidently the OC had renumbered one of it's former Southern Pacific tunnelmotors, and repainted it from it's gray and rust scheme.


Not even the trucks were dusty. I decided to run south and get another photograph, as the sun was threatening to come out, and I wasn't all that pleased with the white, featureless sky in the mailbox photo.

I just needed to wait for the rest of the train to pass. Which of course, was a nice thing to have to wait for.

The trailing locomotives appeared around the corner, first a big blue former Conrail C36-7, and then a green, former BN C30-7. I had never seen the BN locomotive before, which gave me even more impetus to chase the train a little further.

I zipped down to the crossing at Tunnel Hill Road, maybe 2 miles away and waited.


The sun came out as the train neared, and lit the gleaming nose and the yellow house beside the tracks.



The train headed into the mist, and I shot it going away, hoping against hope the mist would linger long enough to watch the trailing engines disappear too. It was not to be though. The somewhat shabby C30-7 did look pretty cool though, as it slowly rocked its way south.




The next day I kept my eyes peeled for a northbound coal train, so see what train the gleaming tunnelmotor was leading. The next day's GLT had different power, thus telling me that the trio of interesting engines was an RHT, the Rehoboth Turn.

Late Summer Light

August 11, 2006

There was a possibility that I was going to guide a fellow railfan along the Ohio Central on Friday night. So after stopping home to see my wife, she suggested we go to dinner. So I took her with me to chase the train. I didn't find my fellow fan, and the chase morphed into an evening drive with my wife, but I did shoot the train at one of my favorite evening spots, for the third time. It is fun to see how the light has changed since the first time I was there, back in May.

It was a nice evening with my wife, which culminated in a fine dinner at one of the best beer bars/restuarants in the state.

Evening Gamble

August 9, 2006

I had Wednesday night to chase the local, so of course it clouded up just before I left work. There were no coil cars waiting to go west, so I didn't know if the the local was even heading to Newark. I headed home to mull a chase.

I ended up messing around, and the train was long gone when I crossed the tracks at State Street. I followed the tracks west, getting stopped for construction twice, despite the fact that it was 7:30. The sun was in and out of the cloads, appearing through a guazy haze and then disappearing behind thicker cover. At a stop light I considered turning around, and then decided to give it a go anyway.

Problem was, the train normally leaves down town at 7:10 or so, and heads across the river to pick up the rest of the consist. Most of the time that is done by 7:30, and heads west, pausing only to pick up the brakeman. This time, with no cars to pick up across the river, it had a good head start on me.

I took the fast way west, not following the tracks, and stopped at a grade crossing. The rails looked well polished, and I feared I had missed the train. I headed further west to check out one last crossing, in the tiny village of Toboso. There was some kind of gunk on the rails- I hadn't missed the train after all. So I headed back to the previous crossing, because there was nowhere to park at the spot I had scoped out.

When I crossed the tracks, the train was visible, so I pulled a u-turn (safely, but illegally) and roared off back down the road I had came from. The train rumbled slowly along, barn in the background, hay in the foreground. The light was gone, the blue of the evening settling in.

I thought it was worth the gamble.

Westward Local

August 2, 2006
The Ohio Central's Newark Turn tends to leave Zanesville at around 7:30, right about the time I usually get out of work. Usually I base my decision to watch the train leave town on the motive power and if there are any interesting coil cars waiting to be picked up on the way out of town. When I got out of work today, it was such a nice night and the Gp30 on the local was so nice and clean, I figured I would stop and take a photo. Or three.

I thought about taking a photo of the train crossing the former B&O bridge across the Muskingum River. As I cross the street to check out the bridge, the boss drove by and waved. He alread thinks I am nuts, so it is ok. So I tromped around in the mud under the bridge, foul stinking mud that stuck to my shoes and made me slip and slide and sink.

I tried a shot with a long lens, and then a wide view, framed by the underside of the famous Y bridge.

It wasn't very good, at least in review. My camera is still in my trunk, the card undownloaded.

So I scooted over to a tiny road near State Street, where I can watch the train pick up it's cars and head out of town. I squeezed off a tight shot of the train leaving, and then headed west, one more crossing left in town. I lined up my shot, part of a foundry towering over the tracks, and waited. The train had stopped to pick up it's conductor, and it took a few minutes for it to appear. But instead of roaring off into the sunset, the train stopped to switch the foundry.

And since I was late for home, and had a floor to sand, I went home. So here is a photo from last week, of a different set of power from nearly the same spot.

South along the Scioto

June 30, 2006
I arrived in Circleville, south of Columbus, at 6:55 am, with the intention of meeting up with some fellow Ohio railfans and exploring the parallel CSX and NS lines that run south out of Columbus toward the Ohio River. I had no sooner parked the car than I heard an airhorn, and a headlight appeared to the north. Two light engines rumbled south. The leader was a lease locomotive in UP yellow, the second a former Conrail engine. I shot wide to include the impressive grain elevator. The day had gotten off to a good start.



The scanner kept picking up CSX trains, and while I knew that CSX ran nearby, I couldn't figure out where. I decided to find out, as I had time before the expected arrival of my fellow railfans. I headed south, and CSX's former C&O line appeared along side Ohio 23. At every opportunity, save a factory entrance, I check the side roads for railroad crossings. And darn that C&O, it seemed the whole line was grade separated. Some of the overbridges even had old C&O marking on them, but with 10 feet of bridge showing, it wouldn't do much for the train photography. I had to go nearly to Chillicothe, the next large town south of Circleville, before I found a grade crossing- complete with classic C&O signal. A signal maintainer was talking to an eastbound grain train, so I figured my train would appear around the bend, and pass under the signal bridge. Instead, a few minutes after arrival, a rumble to the south announced the arrival of Q311-30 (Russell Ky-Avon In). I crouched low and shot him with a ground throw switch in the foreground. I should have been a little higher, so the throw didn't 'touch' the train, but it would do. The crew was getting a little air conditioning through the open nose door. I listened to the crew talk to the dispatcher all the way into Columbus' Parsons Yard.


After my Q311, I headed north, to find a spot where I could see both NS & CSX while waiting for my fellow railfans. I found a spot a few miles north of Circleville, on an overbridge. The tracks went straight for both directions on both lines. It would do, more or less, although the sidewalk was closed. After a few curious glances from the locals, I decided to head back to Circleville. When I got back, Columbus native Chuck Carenna arrived and parked next to me.

After introductions, we discussed our plans. We would head south, and check out the NS and CSX lines southward. After a few minutes, an airhorn sounded and we had a northbound. A more or less brand new Sd70m-2 and a bland grey leaser pulled a coal train past us. Again I shot low, to include the grain elevator. I like grain elevators (especially rail served ones) and it was an area landmark, a good thing to include in a photo, to give a sense of place. That said, the photo is missing something. I like the poles though, which makes me about the only railfan that does. Some of them have a bracket on top that was particular to the Norfolk and Western, who built the line.


The grain elevator was unloading a hopper car, and I wanted to get a shot of the guy on the roof of the car closing the hatches. We waited around a while, and I gave up on him ever reemerging from the grain office. We headed south.

We followed the valley of the Scioto, south into Chillicothe, where we looked around but left, uninspired by the rapidly worsening light. We headed south along some little roads that Chuck had once ridden in a bike race. We were focused on a spot near a map-dot called Greggs Hill. It appeared, on the map, at least, that the old C&0 and the N&W crossed, with the DT&I making an appearance nearby. The Detroit, Toledo and Ironton was long gone, abandoned after a merger with the Grand Trunk in the early 1980s. The Chesapeake and Ohio was now CSX, the Norfolk and Western now Norfolk Southern. The map made Greggs Hill look like a promising spot, despite the loss of the DT&I. So we followed the tracks south, first NS, and then after crossing the river, CSX. We missed a northbound coal train on the CSX before finding Greggs Hill. We saw the DT&I roadbed, and after looking around a bit, I began to get a sinking feeling that I had led us astray, that CSX and NS didn't cross, just came close enough to kiss, and then parted ways. Crap.

Chuck wasn't too bothered though, in spite of my grand promises about an over-under crossing, and we parked his car and hiked up to the tracks to look around. The NS was quite a bit lower than CSX, both double track lines curving very close together, the CSX about 15 feet above the NS.

We agreed that we could make some photos here, and we went back to car to get my gear and some water. It was hotter'n hell. (Why I didn't bring my gear the first time, I don't know!) We marched trackside, and waited. We talked about photography, and trains, and this and that. Suddenly, a rumble, and a southbound appeared around the bend. We knew one was coming, more or less, but waited in the shade, rather than the sun, where we could photograph the train. My shade shot, two Sds appearing around a curve, provides a valuable lesson- be prepared, lest you end up with a crappy photo.


Shortly after our slow southbound squealed past, we heard more scanner chatter. We headed into the sun to wait. We were much chagrined to see an NS train pass below us, I even more so when I saw there was a four trucked depressed center flat car in the train, something I have been wanting to photograph for years. Just not an above view through bushes.

A glow on the side of the CSX tracks on the distant curve alerted us to a southbound coal train, the V109.



A pair of AC44s, typical CSX coal train power, rolled past with a variety of loaded coal hoppers, CSX, former CR, and leasers. After it cleared, we headed into the nearby town of Waverly, to check out the NS bridge over the Scioto (not particularly accessible) and find lunch.

After grabbing lunch, me at Kroger, Chuck at Burger King, we headed north, crossing the river at Omega, in search of a possible CSX train. We sat near a signal and waited, eating and chatting, until we heard the dispatcher tell an NS maintainer that he would meet two at Omega. So we went back to Omega.

Omega was a bit lacking, so we headed north. After all, I reasoned, we had two trains coming, so if we missed one, we would still have one behind it. Sure enough, when the road wound it's way back to the tracks, a row of grain hoppers were bounding their way south. Despite my reasoning, I was bummed. The spot where was saw the tracks would work though, with a field of beans and the distant hills framing the tracks. Shortly afterwards, another train rolled south.



While we were getting read to leave, a guy in a van asked us what we were photographing, beans? Trains and beans, I said, and he laughed. He said he wished he had nothing to worry about besides beans and trains. Me too.

We followed the tracks north, figuring on maybe catching a train on the way back to Chillicothe, where we would search for the over under. We had both seen pictures, and Chuck had a pretty good idea where it was. He had pointed out where he figured it was on the way down, so we headed there, just off a busy commercial road. After a bit of looking, we parked behind a Mexican restaurant and hiked to the tracks.

The solid, sturdy looking C&O bridge loomed over the double track NS. It wasn't long before a southbound coal train thundered over it, but the structure was so thick that the train was mostly obscured. Chuck and I retreated into the underbrush to find somewhere shady. We would an ancient drainage stream, with a pair of concrete and stone tunnels. The air was 20 degrees cooler in the shade of the ditch, and we hung out and chatted while waiting for the NS signal, an ancient N&W color position light, to change to green. We kicked around in the ditch, and tried to figure out why it was there. 1915 was cast into one end of the concrete, 1931 in another part.



The signal eventually changed, right in the middle of another CSX coal train. We raced up to the track, to wait for an NS train. We decided to shoot from a different spot, so we couldn't talk. I sat in the weeds, trying to find shade, and fiddled with the ballast. Chuck was further around the curve, so when the train appeared, I yelled and waved until he saw me. A bright BNSF GE thundered south, laying on the horn and dragging the long string of empty hoppers that made up NS train 851.



To tell the truth, when I am on NS, I would rather have an NS leader. Same with pretty much any other railroad. But beggars can't be choosers.

After the southbound we headed back into Chillicothe, to see if we could get a train passing the station there. We hadn't been there very long when another southbound coal train appeared. Chuck shot by the station, I shot further up, with some houses in the frame. I like a sense of place, for better or for worse.



The former station area is now partly covered by an over pass. One of the abutments, one that used to hold the bridge up over the B&O and N&W, had a steam engine mural on the side. It was across the street from a bar, and I tried to figure out how to work a train into the scene. I shot some coal hoppers rolling south, and then a little while later just the scene with no train. Minus one pole, I think it could be a good spot. For a northbound. Of which we saw none.




We waited, and as suddenly as last time, an airhorn sounded. I was out of position, so I ran down the street, and down an ally, hoping to frame the train between two houses. But as usual, the train was bigger than I expected, and the alley didn't allow as much train as I wanted. A guy is in the photo too, hidden in the shadows. He was giving me the eye as I ran down the street and into the alley.



Chuck and I headed back to the car after the last one, the southbound 218, a hot pig train. We were standing around figuring out what to do when I shot a guy working on his bike in front of a building.



I was starting to feel my 5:30 wake up, so we went back to Circleville to try and get something coming through town. I had given up on the day and we were shaking hands good-bye when we heard an airhorn, the sickly goose honk of a new Sd70m-2. It rounded the curve past another grain elevator, the shiny nose catching the last rays of sun. It was a nice way to end the day.