The Wandering Railfan

Night Apparition

2009-02-19T21:49:00.005-05:00

I was in Coshocton the other day, working on my computer when I heard the OC blow as it roared through town. Figuring it was the local headed to Newark, I finished what I was doing, and headed out. I needed a lunch break.

The train was out of site when I crossed the tracks a few minutes later, and I feared I would have to chase halfway to Newark to catch up. I figured my only hope was the 10 mph slow order over the Muskingum River bridge just southwest of town.

Not quite. The train was stopped at the end of the siding near Papermill Road. It was halfway in the siding and halfway out, and I figured it would be leaving town any minute. It was pretty dark, but I took a shot anyway, and a long exposure brightened things up considerably.

But instead of roaring off, it backed into the siding and sat. After a few minutes, more than long enough to charge the air for a very short train, I figured that there was going to be a meet. Probably with an NS runthrough coal train.

After a while I heard an air horn, and the engineer flashed his headlights at me. I don't know if he was warning me to back up or just seeing if I was still standing around, or some other reason entirely, but I moved back a bit anyway. I like the shot closer to the rails better, but better safe than sorry.

Eventually I heard a rumble as the train crossed the Muskingum River, and then the sound of power notching up as it cleared the span. Then I could see the flashers down the road, and then the train was upon me.

Having great trust in my gear, I let it do it's thing. I should I just bulbed it, as the exposure is a little bit washed out. But still ok, I guess. Beat arriving early for a basketball game.

The real interesting part of the picture was after the power had passed, and the waiting train illuminated the exhaust and coal smoke. I know there were better ways to work it, but the resulting image is still interesting, in a completely abstract way.

Midnight Ice

2009-02-05T21:57:00.002-05:00

I only had one opportunity to get trackside after the ice storm last week, and it was a lucky break after dark. The 7064 leads empty hoppers through a tunnel of trees rimmed by ice.

First of the Year

2009-01-18T21:44:00.003-05:00

I am kind of a lazy blogger, and a lazier railfan. But during Wednesday's snow storm I couldn't help but chase the northbound GLT to a spot north of town to get a snow shot. It is my first train of the year. You can't have too many show shots, after all.

Evening Apparition

2008-10-05T22:24:00.004-04:00

I was out for a walk with the family when I heard a steam whistle. Thinking it was perhaps the steel mill, I at first ignored it, until I heard it again. And checked the time. 10 minutes before the 7 pm whistle, if there even is one. After getting permission, I headed down to the tracks to see the 1293 one last time.

It may not be the last time, but if feels like it. The OC was recently sold to the G&W. And while realistically, it is not really going to affect the local railfan populace one bit, I still felt a little melancholy watching the 1293 back past the NZT, which was pulling up beside it to make its evening pickup.

The Ohio Central I knew was one that would pull out a steam engine for the fun of it, where new power would show up with no notice, and Alcos ruled the ballast trains. I don't know much about the G&W, but I doubt it is as much fun, for railfans at least. Plus, it was kind of neat knowing that the local railroad was headquartered 30 miles up the road.

I have heard things about what it was like to work for the Ohio Central. And honestly, I don't really care. We all have jobs, and we all do them, for better or for worse, until something better comes along. If I worked for them, I would probably feel different, but to me, the OC will always be yellow and maroon engines creeping through the woods, and an evening steam surprise.

Steam

2008-10-02T21:20:00.003-04:00

I shot the 1293's ferry move from Morgan Run to the Byesville Scenic on Thursday morning.

Check out the web gallery here.

Did a history blog post here.

Somewhere on the site is an audio recording of the 1293 trundling through the woods here.

The End is Near

2008-09-03T21:41:00.002-04:00

Had to go to Coshocton today, and as I was heading to my assignment, something caught my eye on the old Nickle Plate through town. It looked like a C30-7 in UP paint, which, upon inspection a few hours later after my work was done, it turned out to be. Or what is left of it. The pug-nosed brute is near the end now, parted out and slowly disappearing. Next to it was former Conrail slug 1002, a pair of steam generator cars and some rusty coaches. All are most likely going to be gone by the time the impending sale of the OC is completed in about 2 weeks. I guess the ownership is trying to squeeze a few more dimes out of the property.

Sadder to me was the demise of an ancient boxcar near by. There are fewer and fewer steam/transition era cars out there, and it would have looked nice restored running behind a steam engine.

All the Way to the Bank

2008-08-10T22:07:00.004-04:00

The Genesee and Wyoming is going to buy the Ohio Central system for $219.0 million in cash, barring the current managment screwing the pooch too badly. It was all over the local railfan world for a few days before an official release hit the web, late on a Sunday. The paper in New Philadelphia had it that Monday, the Coshocton and Zanesville papers followed suit on Tuesday. Front page news, too.

Apart from the obvious railfan interests, the real fun will be following a few story lines. The pending, on again, off again long term lease of the Panhandle line. The state owns it, and currently OC has a five year lease, give or take. Some political types in Licking County, through which part of the state owned line traverses, have this idea that the Panhandle should be open to all comers. Because clearly all the class ones are just itching to get hold of line that starts in Columbus and ends in east bumhump, doesn't have clearance for stacks (or racks, for that matter, most likely) and has long stretches of single track.

There is also a lot of coal out toward Cambridge, which some day may start leaving the area in unit trains. Not to mention the Buckingham Coal Co mine in Perry County. I don't know how long the OC contract is, but coal prices are up, so who knows where they could sell it.

People started talking about the steam program right off the bat. It will be interesting to see what happens to that. And sooner or later, the paint will change, and the orange will start to spread. Logic would say that it would spread to the ratty former UP and CR engines running around, if they stay on the roster. Most of OC's power was repainted in the last few years, and it would be throwing money away to repaint it when it doesn't need to be. But then again... logic.

All in all, does it matter? I don't ship, I am not employed by the railroad. Trains will still be running (usually in crappy light). It affects me not in the least. But in a way, it is kind of sad that the local railroad, headquarted about 30 miles away, will now just be another part of a larger, although disparate, system.

The photo: A northbound Glouster Turn leaves Zanesville along the Muskingum River. (A shot facing the other direction was in the Trains magazine article about the OC, labeled as being in "North Zanesville." I have never heard of North Zanesville. Northern Zanesville maybe. Anyway.) I shot it on February 21, 2002. I had been in town for a little less than a month. 3255 is gone, off the roster, sold to MBTA, I think. The 5855 has been renumbered into the 402x series, and even the coal gons are different. The Thrall rotary dumps aren't used as much more coal, some 4000cf Ortners taking their place. So in short, much has changed, but at the same time, nothing really has.

Varnish in Town

2008-07-14T22:16:00.004-04:00

I got a rather cryptic call from a friend this afternoon. "The tourist train is coming into town right now" he said. It took a minute to figure out what he was talking about. For the Zanesville and Western Scenic Railway to get to its new home near Avondale it would obviously have to come through Zanesville- although I figured it happened while I was out of town earlier this week.

So I raced out of the office and a few blocks away to the yard. A few minutes later a B30-7 led a gaggle of heavyweights, a pair of cabooses and an Sw1 belonging to the former Buckeye Scenic, which was evicted from its home near Heath in an unfortunate series of events precipitated by a real f'ing douchebag, into the yard.

Bringing up the rear was a B23-7. There was a fellow in the cab taking pictures, perhaps to present a different view of this historic event.

The motley collection was being taken to Avondale on the former NYC Glass Rock branch, to be put into storage until the tourist pike gets started. When I first heard that is where the collection was going to be stored, I figured it would be in the woods near the switch with the OC, instead of close to the Ohio 93 crossing. Hopefully it is a safe spot, and all the windows emerge from storage intact. Same with the copper wire, come to think of it.

On my way back from New Lexington I saw the SW1 was indeed close to the road, so I stopped to take a picture- in much better light than our previous encounter. Best of luck to the Zanesville and Western.

The train consisted of a group of heavyweight (6 axle) cars in a D&H inspired scheme, an N&W caboose, a gondola with seats in it, a C&O caboose, and the road's Sw1.

Urban Ugly

2008-06-17T22:22:00.007-04:00

I was on vacation last week, so I took a day and went to Columbus to see what was stirring. I didn't know how busy Wednesday (June 11, in this case) were, but it fit our schedule, so off I went.

Arose later than I could have, and took a while to get out of the house, playing with may daughter and giving my wife time to get herself ready. So it was 10 am by the time I got to town. After taking a look at the south side of town, I headed up to the ol' standby, Cook Road, to see what NS had going on the Sandusky district, the busiest line in town.

Turns out not much was going on. Two ugly yellow signals greeted me, and it stayed that way through my trip to the hobby store, after which I got tired of waiting (and sweating) and headed north along the tracks to see what was what. There was a sign on the CSX line that indicated work ahead, and I wanted to make sure it wasn't at the diamond with NS, which would put a wrench in any movements through the area.

When I crossed Lincoln Avenue, I saw a headlight in the distance. On CSX. I thought it may have been a train on the Weber Connector, which can look like CSX, but it was way too far away for that. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a CSX doublestack trundled north, in terrible light. Talk about urban ugly.

Back to Cook Road, where I read and occasionally checked the signals. And sweated. Finally, one dropped to red to indicate a southbound.

After sweating for a while longer, a southbound lumbered into view, with a dirty (and poorly lit) former Conrail Sd60m leading.

The highlight of the train was a Frisco boxcar, my first in several years. After the southbound, wanderlust struck again, and I headed over to see what was stirring in Buckeye Yard. I almost beat my southbound there, but traffic was horrendous. The light was crappy for the hump, so I messed around a bit more, missing an eastbound out of the yard while looking at the crossing at Hilliard-Rome Road, thinking it was a westbound (it was pointing west, and then all of a sudden headed east).

While heading back to somewhere, I saw a sign for Grandview. I remember reading about an area behind a Kroger warehouse where you could watch CSX, and figured I would give it a try. Turns out it is a former Big Bear facility, and has a nice clear view of the tracks, and was a very ugly spot. It was just off Goodale Blvd, and within hearing distance of Olentangy River Road. At the same time it was very desolate. I saw one car, and a jogger.

After what seemed like forever, I saw that a distant signal showed a green, and a few minute later a northbound hove into view with a new GE on the point of a coal train.

The newest CSX paint scheme sucks, even when new. Dark and dingy, it sucks in light worse than NS' black. Unless the light is low and directly over your shoulder, (as in, better than my light in this instance) the paint just comes out muddy and ick.

The two GEs trailed a long line of loaded coal, and seemed to be working fairly hard. There was a good variety of coal hoppers and gons, too, with at least 6 different types of rotary dumps and a bunch of normal hoppers.

A few minutes later the southbound signal went green, a little while later what appeared to be a local showed up and moseyed past, with two earlier variations on the CSX scheme. When I was a kid, they would have been called phase 5 and phase 6, later known as Bright Future.

After the local cleared I sat around a little longer and contemplated a place to pee. As I was about to whip out a soda bottle, I saw that the signals indicated a northbound, and headed out to find a better spot.

The C&O (or Hocking Valley) spared no expense in Columbus, grade separating the tracks most of the way through town. One of the few crossings on the line that I found was at Kinnear, next to a mall. Which had a place to pee, once my northbound came through.

Sure enough, after a little while a single Sd40-2 came grumbling past, with a pretty good sized train. There was even an "unpatched" B&O centerflow.

After my tinkle and buying a new book for my daughter, I checked the crossing and saw another northbound was due, at least somewhere close according to the green signal. I raced north, hoping that West North Broadway was a grade crossing. Turns out it wasn't, and as I turned around another coal train went north, with another new GE AC44AH leading. Seems that (apart from all the waiting for trains) CSX was busier than I thought.

I jumped across the city back to Cook Road to get one more look at NS before heading home. The light was starting to get nicer, but it was also getting close to bed time for my daughter, and I would rather be able to take our evening walk than get a few more trains. NS did reward my efforts with a southbound though.

Highlight of that train was a bunch of Magor 4000 cf covered hoppers.

So I went home, fighting traffic. Made it home around 7, and we all took our walk. Getting a running toddler hug from my daughter made up for all the trains I missed and will miss.

Consolation Prize

2008-06-09T22:08:00.003-04:00

My assignment Friday was to cover the Coshocton Balloon Festival. I was supposed to go up in a balloon, since my paper was a sponser. That way I could get some nice art to put on the front page that said "hey, go to the balloon festival."

Unfortunately, it was too windy, and I didn't get to fly. I was pretty bummed. I have never been in a hot air balloon.

As I was leaving the office, I saw smoke, and thought at first that something was on fire. Until a few yards further down the street the Ohio Central's 33 came into view (with a gleaming 4092, a freshly painted Super 7) simmering near Main Street. There was a good crowd, and everyone stopped to take a look or take a picture. I saw people driving with one hand, and taking a cell phone picture with another. It was pretty cool.

Tribute

2008-06-09T22:02:00.002-04:00

Last week I had to cover the funeral of a soldier killed in Iraq. After the funeral there was a procession to the graveyard where he would be laid to rest, 65 miles from where he lived. The whole route was lined with flags, nearly uninterrupted. People lined the route, from little kids to senior citizens. It was very moving, and made me proud to live in SEO.

The soldier was laid to rest in in Rainbow, a hamlet near Beverly. The tracks were just a few hundred yards from the cemetary, and as soon as I arrived (about an hour before the procession) I heard airhorns. So I moseyed down the road to take a picture of the train passing a group of patriots waiting to pay their last respects. This is more than 60 miles from where the guy grew up. The train gave two very quiet "toots" and crawled very slowly past the gathered.

The waiting crowd, some of whom had come from 30 miles south, thus even further from where the soldier grew up, watches the train crawl past.

Feeding the Beast

2008-03-04T23:55:00.003-05:00

My first trip to the river of the year. After missing the southbound WLE train at Rayland, I made my customary stop in Mingo Junction, at the elementary school parking lot that overlooks the mill. As I drove up I saw a switcher pushing a cut of hoppers up the high line. By the time I was out of the car the switcher was shrouded in steam, waiting for it's load to empty, as a line of coke hoppers wait their turn beside it.

Rebirth

2008-02-10T22:05:00.004-05:00

I don't know why, but I am drawn to a tiny stretch of track between two crossings near Avondale, south of Zanesville. It is only 100 yards long or so, long abandoned, a gentle curve before the line disappears into the weeds again.

I think back to how it must have looked when New York Central trains 61 and 62 mosied through in the middle of the night, on their run between Fultonham and the interchange at Zanesville, probably dragging a few cars of cement, and maybe a box car or two.

We may have a chance to see trains here again- the former Buckeye Scenic has plans for the former NYC Glass Rock line. They plan to reincarnate the Zanesville and Western, a NYC predecessor, as the Zanesville and Western Scenic Railway. Nothing official yet, that I can find, just rumors through the railfan grape vine. Hopefully it will come about this summer.

UPDATE: http://www.bassrun.org/

Lucky Break

2008-02-06T22:08:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was a typical crappy Ohio spring day, except that it is the middle of winter. A light jacket sufficed for my duties in Coshocton in the morning, which included a spin past the ethanol plant to see if there were any signs of life, since I have been disinvited there twice now in the past two weeks. Hopefully an invitation to a grand opening will appear on my desk later this week.

It rained all morning, and was a light drizzle when I was on my way back to Zanesville. As I crossed the tracks in Trinway there was a headlight in the distance, so I stopped and grabbed my gear. Less than a minute later an NS Sd70m-2 was charging past with a coal train.

Just a lucky break, I guess.

edit: found out today that it was the NS852-06

NS 2688
HLCX 5947 (dead in consist)
NS 8884

114 x 0
15,000 tns
6,025 ft.

OHCR 5122 (rear helpers)
OHCR 4028

Frigid

2008-01-25T13:05:00.000-05:00

I was working at my computer yesterday when I heard the coal train blow for Main Street. I could not in good conscious leave my work until it was finished, but I normally have plenty of time for the train to get through town. Fortunately it was before lunch.

When the train was passing within sight of my window, it was snowing. By the time Main Street was clear it was sunny, and by the time I was in pursuit it was cloudy and warmed up just enough for snow to start dropping from the tree branches. And it was still cold. In the 20s, max.

So I had that going for me as I trudged along North River Road to try and get a good shot of the coal train and fallow fields. I fell well short of 'good' and settled for a side view of the snow dusted leader, Sd40t-2.

It was a cold wait for the train to pass, and as I watched the trailing unit roll away from me, I decided to give it one more try.

With my lunch hour burning away as quickly as the gas in the tank, I headed north. I tried for a shot along the river, but due to recent road work, I couldn't find the one clear spot where it was possible. So I watched the train roll below me and headed off to Ellis.

There is along tangent leading to the crossing, and I hoped the trees would still be covered enough to make the shot worth while- winter is about the only time of year that it is worth the detour. There are other options to be explored there, mostly late afternoon or a cloudy day.

Instead I got a little cloud of snow from the leader and another gray Ohio winter shot. But it was nice to feel the rumble of the train on the crossing, and get a little bit of the cold bones adrenaline for an increasingly rare train photo. It takes work and perseverance to get the great ones, and sometimes a few trips down dead end roads in the middle of nowhere.

A Look Back: OC's Fs

2008-01-20T21:25:00.000-05:00

A dearth of railroading these days, with the daily coal train failing to provide inspiration. Taking a cue from other railroad enthusiast blogs I provide a look back in place of more modern action.

Not too far back, mind you; 10/13/02. I had been in Zanesville for 9 months when I heard about an excursion on the Ohio Central. Two of the road's rebuilt Fs would be leading an excursion from Zanesville to New Lexington over former PRR trackage.

Unfortunately, the inlaws were due in that weekend. We had rented a cabin at Dillon State Park for a small family gathering. But I convinced my soon(ish) to be wife that I wouldn't be missed for a few hours while I got a few shots of the Fs.

They were already in Zanesville when I got there, two prisine Fs top and tail* in PRR inspired pin stripes. I took a look down town, and headed up to Putnam Hill park to get a shot of the leader on the bridge.

Looking at these pictures, I forget how much the scene has changed; it is still a great view of the city, and a train, but the details have changed. The Roekel Supply building (you can see the KEL) is gone, replaced by a parking lot. So the layered look of a tighter, tele view from the hill changes drastically, with a large expanse of parking lot replacing the old brick building. The line of the windows across the top of the frame is city hall, some 2 blocks north of the Roekel.

I left the overlook and headed down to the Muskingum Avenue crossing, which at the time had a bar called the "Question Mark Cafe" next to the tracks. Never thought to work that sign in to a shot. It is now a more "upscale" restaurant.

There was another railfan at the crossing, which was nice, as I had not met any local fans. I didn't get his name though, and we parted ways after the train passed. I used a longer lens to get the lead F framed by the bridge.

The train headed south. The shot of the train leaving the bridge was nothing spectacular, but it was nice to get a close look at the Fs. I headed south too, figuring to get a shot at the bridge in Roseville. I was still fairly new to the area, and I didn't realize I could get two or three more shots before then.

So off I went. I made it to Roseville in plenty of time, and stood on the old WPA-era bridge over the tracks. Got a lot of odd looks, I remember. But it was a nice sunny fall afternoon, and warm, although my memory may be a bit off there. But finally the train came, rolling through at about 10 miles per hour- which explains the hour+ wait.

I figured I had better not push my luck by following the train and headed back to Dillon and my family. I can't remember if I got any hassle about being out longer than allowed, but it doesn't really matter, and didn't then.

Things have changed since that October. The F units are gone, to CP to pull their executive train. The OC is different too, bigger, due to picking up CSX's former B&O lines in the area. Zanesville used to be a two railroad town, with OC the daily visitor. Now they stable a pair of Super 7s in town, a seldom changing duo in blue. The view from the overlook has changed, too.

If there is a moral to the story, it is to get out and shoot it. It would have been easy to say 'next time' about this particular excursion, but I don't think the Fs ever made it back to Zanesville. I saw them the next year on the railroad's Bicentennial train, but it doesn't seem like long before they headed off to Canada. Even for something that seems like it will last forever (like Conrail) will someday disappear. Sometimes it is sudden, sometimes it is gradual, but things change.

* a British "spotting" term for front and back

Going my way?

2008-01-08T11:31:00.000-05:00

Had to go to Coshocton Monday, and while I was there, I stopped to watch a pair of guys paint the former PRR freight house down town. I was shooting the bull when I heard a flat, toneless horn from the east. A few minutes later a shiny NS GEVO hove into view with a coal train.

Since I had to go back to Zanesville anyway, I bid adeau to the the painters and headed south/west. Turns out the train was going that way too.

I figured I could catch the train at the massive former PRR bridge over the Muskingum River at Tyndall, just south of Coshocton, but it seemed that the fates (mostly slow moving traffic) were conspiring against me. But, according to the sign beside the bridge, all traffic crossing the bridge has a 10 mph slow order, and the obedient engineer slowed down well in advance.

The sun, which was playing hide and seek for much of the morning, popped out just as the pristine 7701 emerged from the through truss.

The train and I went our separate ways. I was heading to Frazeysburg to find some wild art, to keep myself busy until my evening assignments. Not much was going on there; nary a soul on the playgrounds and ball fields, despite the unseasonably weather. But to my surprise, I beat the train, which went tearing through town at track speed, which seemed to be about 50 mph.

The confines of the track through Frazeysburg seem pretty narrow, which is odd, considering the line used to boast double track at one time.

Return

2007-09-17T15:15:00.000-04:00

A dumb luck catch on the way home from an assignment. An OC reroute because of a derailment. Two C30s lead tank cars and coil gons through Dresden. Saw it once, and I doubt I will ever see it again. But with that, the blog returns, for better or for worse.

Trashy

2007-06-13T21:04:00.000-04:00

05/09/07
I was coming back from an assignment, following the OC's line north of Zanesville when I noticed some containers were following along beside we as I rolled south on North River Road (west). I thought that rather odd, since I had never seen such a thing. So I sped off to the Adair Road bridge, where I could get a good view of the proceedings, since the light was not so super.

I was greeted with a very handsome B36-7 leading a trash extra to Rehoboth. I had an assignment soon after, but I was able to get a second shot of the train entering the yard, with it's full compliment of Canadian ditchlights blazing.

Supposedly there are more trash trains to come, but I have not seen any. Yet.

Central Ohio Odyssey

2007-03-22T21:15:00.000-04:00

Maps, to me, are the sweetest candy. Give me a destination, a spot, and I will find the lines that connect me to it in the most interesting fashion. Of course this means following the rails. The best route between two points is not always the shortest.

So when I was presented with a choice of two destinations, Alliance and Willard at which to meet a photographic hero of mine, Misko Kranjec, my first thoughts were of excitement to meet Misko and catch up with some other friends, and my second was about which route to take.

At first it looked like we would meet at Alliance, thusly I would follow the Ohio Central's northound train out of Coshocton to Warwick, and then head east through Canton along the tracks to Alliance.

But Monday night I found out we would be meeting up in Willard, so I planned on heading north along the OC to Mt. Vernon, hopefully chasing the NHL, which runs north out of Newark on Tuesdays and Thursday, and I guess sometimes Saturdays too.

It took a little longer to get out of the house that I expected, but when I got to Newark the tracks north looked rusty. I was a little bummed, but I figured it would just leave more time to hang out with Misko, Dave Hyman and Ed Portzline. I followed the tracks north through Newark and St. Louisville, and as the tracks moved away from the road at Utica, I took off the main road (Ohio 13) to cross the tracks- just in case.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw headlights, and I rushed into town to find a spot. There was a small grain elevator, and I found a spot looking down the street to get the train passing. I peaked around the corner of the building I was standing beside as the train approached, and I was suprised to see an orange B23-7 on the point, running long hood forward. The OHCR 4201 is the former Rick Franklin Corporation 4201, which apparently was former Conrail 1904.

Anyway, as the train rolled slowly through town, morning school traffic began to arrive at my spot. Two cars rolled to a stop as the gates went down. At first I thought they would ruin my shot, but actually, in a way, it adds something. The big shadow blocking part of the locomotive and the fact that I cut off the top of the grain elevator because I was paying more attention to the cars is much more problematic.

Oh well. I fled Utica and headed north again, passing the train just a few hundred yards up the road and zipping ahead. The sun was kind of behind us both, and I began to get further and further ahead of the slow-moving train. When I crossed the tracks on Arrington Road, a bit over the Knox County line, the train was just a blob of light in the distance. The fields were relatively open, and I searched for a broadside, cross the field kind of shot.

There was a raggedy tree near the road, and I thought immediately about including it in the frame, if I could swing it. My 20mm wasn't quite wide enough, and I had to walk into the remains of a corn field to squeeze it all in. The train came rumbling along, and I shot a few frames as it receded into the distance. Then it was back on the road, heading north.

Ohio 13 leaves the tracks again south of Mt. Vernon, and I had to try some back roads to find shots. I found a suitable place on Range Line Road just south of South Mt. Vernon, and shot the train going way past a gingerbread trimmed farmhouse. Then back north, doing my best to keep an eye on the train. I had to check out some more back roads to find the train, as I was not sure where the train was going. There are some industries south of town, and I thought maybe the train would drop some cars there. As I rolled away from the tracks on a main road south of town, the gates went down, assuring me that the train was rolling all the way into town.

I found a crossing in town with a crossing guards concrete hut still standing by the rails and used it in the foreground. The train scooted past and I headed toward downtown. (I found out later that the concrete hut is actually an old B&O phone booth, used to check if the PRR crossing in Mt. Vernon was clear so a train could proceed. Thanks for Iron Man on the WLETS forum for the info.)

I have been through Mt. Vernon a few times, but I had not been there enough to know exactly where to go, and nearly made a wrong turn. I had to really hustle down some one-way streets to get the train crossing the Kokosing River an a bridge that is apparently kind of arched. Hey, pictures don't lie.

Road closures made it difficult to follow the train as it set about switching local industries, and it was getting late anyway, so I headed north, following the remains of the old B&O main until it disappeared near Fredricktown. I passed through Mansfield, and it cluster of tracks and GE 65-tonner, and then to Greenwich, where the gates went down as I drew close, and I pulled down a side street to catch a long stack train coming off the Indianapolis line.

When I got to Willard, I didn't see any cars parked across from the engine pit, so I checked the local crossings, and then headed west, as I figured the group would be at Daniels Road. As I was driving past the western fuel pad, the phone rang; it was Misko, telling me they were indeed at Daniels Road.

I rolled up the truncated remains of Daniels Road, and as I rolled to a stop, Misko got out of the car and I got to meet a hero.

The first meeting was short lived, because shortly after hellos it was suggested we headed west to Attica Jct, to see the crossing with NS. I agreed, and for some reason got in my car, probably because I had to pee.

So we dashed west, slowing at Attica to see the headlights of a northbound NS train and for Misko to take a picture of a grain elevator, a quintessential Ohio/Midwest landmark. CSX was quick to provide us with an eastbound, with a UP Sd70ace on the point. I shot Misko and Ed against the cloudy sky before the train dashed east. Then I went to find a bathroom, leaving them, promising to meet up in a moment.

After my bathroom break, I went back to the northern most crossing in town, where I expected the waiting coal train to head north, past the grain elevator and high school. Instead, a southbound intermodal appeared, leaving me not much of a shot. But I took it anyway, what the hell.

The crew headed back to Willard, I wanted to get a shot of a train heading south past the grain elevator, and a green signal promised such a delight. After waiting for a short eternity, I gave up. Why waste a minute of hanging out with friends?

Back to the pit, diverting briefly to watch a distant stack train thunder across the fields, enjoying the echo of a fast train from a mile away.

At the fueling pit, we hung out and talked, and watched a few trains pass before it was time for Misko, Dave and Ed to head back toward Canton. Misko had a late night train to catch, and was due in Chicago the next morning.

So off we all went, them east, me toward the west and Attica, where I would pick up the NS and follow it south. I followed the yard west, where I caught up with my second train of the day, the UP-led miscellaneous job that we caught at Attica Jct. As I got ready to shoot, a pair of cargo planes from nearby Mansfield passed low overhead.

No signals lit in Attica, so I headed south, ducking down back roads to check signals when they appeared. Bucyrus slowed my southern flight, as I searched for interesting spots and missed a northbound coal train. I did find the tiny GE Transco uses to shove cars around it's facilty. A row of sad looking autoracks was outside the gate.

Then south again, where I came across a green signal at a boring location. A grain elevator on the horizon beckoned, so I raced south, coming across another tiny GE at Monnett. I grabbed a shot, and as I headed back to my car, I heard and airhorn. To the south. I peered through my lens, and sure enough, floating on the horizon in a puddle of mirage, the last car of a southbound disappeared into the haze. How it got ahead of me in the few miles between signals I will never know.

South to Marion, passing up a trip to the diamonds to head straight south, to check in at the grain elevator in Waldo to see if I could get a picture of the critter there. No one was home (it being after 5 on a Tuesday) and I didn't dare go back into the facility, as there were big tanks with red diamond placards near the critter, and I wouldn't want people to think I was thievin' dangerous materials. So I headed south again, following the secondary road until it rejoined US 23. As I was rolling along, a bright object near the tracks caught my eye, and after a bit longer I realized it was a train. So I turned around and roared back to Waldo, where I got a northbound passing the dormant critter.

After watching the train pass, I headed south again. I was rolling along and realized that a, I had found a spot called 'Troyton' will it's classic PRR position light signal that I had seen in pictures before, and b, there was a train at said location. So I turned around again, and headed north to a tiny wide spot in the road called Norton. There was a signal there, too, a less interesting single light deal, and a second one, facing away from the tracks. I remembered seeing a picture of this signal once too, evidently it was for a once planned double tracking of the line, not yet attempted. The train passed, shorter than the last, perhaps a local returning to Marion.

The light was getting nice now, but it was also getting time for the baby to go to bed. If I hustled, I could be home in time. So I did- after a stop in Delaware to see if CSX would stir up a train for me (no dice) and passing over a northbound NS coal train on I270. But right now, being able to say goodnight to my baby daughter is just more important than one last train-no matter how nice the light.

Return to Brilliant

2007-03-04T17:35:00.000-05:00

03/02/07
Basketball, once again, brought me to the Steel Valley. With the win on Wednesday, the Maysville Panthers had a chance to win a district title, expunging some of the demons that had haunted them since losing in Stuebenville last season in a game they had in hand.

And once again, an early, safe, departure brought me to the valley well before game time. As I was rolling through Yorkville, I noticed the WLE had an AEP coal train stretched across town, and I got off to go shoot it. As soon as I got off the highway, I noticed that NS too had strung a train across town. Blocking me from my intended quarry, the WLE train. So I took some back roads, following the familiar silver hoppers (from Wednesday) until the train started to roll slowly northbound, blocking me once again from my train.

It takes a long time for a mile long coal train to pass at 10 mph, and just as the last few cars rolled into sight, I could see the WLE train blocking the crossing in front of me. Two chances to cross the tracks, both blocked by trains. Fiddle.

Once I was back on 7 north, I realized there was no way to get the AEP train, as it would most likely stop at the Cardinal plant. Both sets of tracks and route 7 run close to each other and the river just north of Rayland, with no safe access. After running around a bit, I paced the NS train as it paced the WLE train, which did indeed stop at Cardinal. I mulled shooting from an AEP driveway, and thought better of it. The southbound WLE train that leaves Mingo at 5 ish met the AEP train at the plant. Two strikes.

I wondered what would happen to the NS empties. I stopped in Brilliant, and waited for an age before finally the train lumbered through town. I shot from a hillside, the opposite from my last shot at Brilliant a few days before.

After the basketball game, and sending photos from the local paper, it was time to head back. As I pulled into Mingo Jct, a northbound was leaving. It was too close to the parking lot that overlooks the mill, so it was back to Steubenville for a quick shot past the bones of the mill. It was a longer wait that I expected, the train creeping from Mingo. In the mill a switcher was doing it's work, the roar of the engine echoing from the mill, mixing with the traffic on the nearby road. It ebbed and flowed as the engineer flogged his aging steed- indeed, it sounded as if it was working very hard. As I tested my exposures and color balance, I noticed trucks moving around in the back of the mill, drawing streaks across my frame. It stood to reason that when the train did come, there would be accompanying truck streaks too.

After my northbound, complete with waving brakeman, I headed back to Mingo for a near-traditional night shot of the mill. From the elementary school overlooking the mill, I shot a hopper being unloaded, the mill, and the steam silhouetting the ore crane.

And then it was off again, south to the interstate, and then back to the office to put the finishing touches on the day.

The Wait at Brilliant

2007-03-04T17:12:00.000-05:00

02/28/07
Basketball brought me to the Ohio River Valley for the first time this year, girls playoff basketball, to be exact. So when I left work early my motives were not entirely pure; I wanted to get there early so that I could be assured of being there on time, and once there, if I was indeed early, I wanted to see some trains.

The tracks were quiet as I rolled north on Ohio 7, the main road north along the valley. Even the engine based at Rayland was still, sitting on the Y waiting for something to do. I headed north, crossing over a coal train just south of Mingo Jct. It was loaded, with a single former Conrail Gp40 on the rear end.

And it was occupied. Into Mingo to turn around, and then back to Brilliant, where I settled into a spot I had seen from the highway numerous times, and wanted to shoot there each time. This time, with a train, it would finally be possible.

Maybe. The train sat, the two engines on the south end crewed and ready. I stood on a ledge overlooking the tracks as the town came and went around me, at times giving me looks, at times ignoring me, as if railfans stood there all the time. I waited for the cops to come. I got bored.

Due to my complete inability to stand still, I began to explore. Up and down the road to Mingo, trying to find a way to photograph the train where it sat. Back to Brilliant, where I watched slack jawed as a WLE southbound hove into view and past the waiting coal train. If I had longer glass on, I would have had an interesting shot, but alas. I decided to chase the WLE train. Back onto 7, I realized that I would have to head pretty far south to get a shot, and balked at the proposition of moving too far from my goal of Steubenville. The tracks were inaccessible for miles, due to the Cardinal powerplant just south of Brilliant. I turned back. When I got back to Brilliant, I heard air horns and saw the lead engine of the coal train had it's ditchlights on. Action.

I parked in the car and surveyed the scene. Because the train was moving, I was not in the spot I had scoped out before, but further down the tracks. I liked what I saw though, with a somewhat decrepit house teetering over the tracks, and the hills of West Virginia distant in the background. The train rumbled past, the brakie grinning down at me as he waved. I am sure the crew thought my machinations, what they saw of them, nuts.

After a shot of a hopper (built in 2005/6) for my collection, I drove down the road a bit to get the helper pushing past some houses. As a bonus, a little knot of people were talking in the street. They give me a glance, the train a glance, and ignored us both.

Once the train cleared, it was back to Steubenville, for dinner and basketball. My team won, so I would return.

Blue and White

2007-02-28T10:43:00.000-05:00

I had a morning off recently, and caught up with the eastbound Cambridge local in New Concord. The train was drifting through the recent snow, and I shot it from the ancient hump bridge that spans the tracks in town. The ice on the trees is rendered invisible by the morning light, but it shows up a little in the going away shot.

After the bridge shot it was off toward Cambridge, dodging black ice and the occasional snowplow. I rambled down back roads searching for a spot to shoot, only to be repelled by a lack of parking places- even on the most deserted roads it is usually not such a good idea to park in the travel lanes, especially in slippery conditions involving sharp curves. So I was repeatedly skunked until I found a road wide enough to park on. After surveying the situation briefly, I decided that my first attempt at a shot at this spot, some two years ago, would suffice, as it was boring and unscenic. On my way to turn around, I noticed an open field leading to the tracks, pulled over, and waited for my blue friends to show up. I shot a number to times as the train swept across the scene (with a disappointing lack of flying snow) and found a shot of the train just before plowing over some horses most satisfactory.

Nature was calling when I got to Cambridge, painfully so, so I missed a shot in town. I caught up with the train as it was attempting to enter a flexiflo terminal. I drove around and around, looking for a place to park, and finally ended up walking back to the crossing from a few blocks away. The two engines, separated from their train, were sitting at a switch, which was apparently iced in. As I was walking to the crossing, an MOW crew I passed on the way into town came to the rescue. As I shot a rescuing MOW worker heading into the sun, my boss called, inviting me to come to work for the afternoon. It was a fitting way to end my chase.

Timing

2007-02-15T21:12:00.000-05:00

I was in Coshocton on Super Bowl Sunday, arriving early and stopping for lunch at Tim Hortons. I parked at my usual lunch spot by the tracks, and just as I was about to head off to my assignment, headlights appeared to the south. It was an empty OC coal train, heading back to the mine at Cadiz. Five minutes later it was rolling past, my coming toward shot ruined by lousy light and a boring sky. But the going away, of a still-clean 4027, was pretty nice, with the towering stacks of the rail-served Smurfit Stone Container factory behind the power.

Then it was off to my assignment. Despite the extra few minutes, I was still quite early for my assignment.

After my assignment, I drove around for a while looking for wild art. The front was taken care of already- it was Super Bowl Sunday, but maybe we had space inside. I had nothing to do before the game anyway. I headed east, and caught up with a train near West Lafayette. I shot the train with a bit of the abandoned humpy bridge in the foreground.

The train was a Pennsylvania Power and Light coal train, a run through job from Norfolk Southern. It consisted of mostly PPLX hoppers, an interesting assortment off hoppers built in the late 1960s. They were never painted, and adopted a variety of rusty hues.

Snow Day

2007-02-12T10:52:00.000-05:00

02/02/07
We have gotten a lot of snow this winter, but due to other commitments I have not been able to shot any trains in said snow. So I get all the hassle, but not much of the joy.

That changed back on the second of February, when luck had me going to lunch as the northbound GLT crossed State Street with still clean 4027 leading, and the sun came out on the fresh snow as the two resident Super 7s, waited for their call to head to Newark later that night.

New Face on the Local

2007-01-11T21:20:00.000-05:00

With a morning assignment in Coshocton Wednesday, I left early to give myself a chance to catch the Coshocton local before heading to work.

I caught up with it on Paper Mill Road, backing onto a cut of cars sitting on the main. Not sure what he had been up to, but the consist also had two cabooses in it. The locomotive was the 3185, a newly arrived (from CSX) Super 7, still in fairly fresh 'dark future' paint and no OHCR markings. I shot the little train heading to the small yard in town, and after some rushing around, I found him picking up a long cut of boxcars that had been sitting on a siding for months. The landmark Coshocton Grain elevator was looming on the horizon, and the ancient trees lining the road providing shadows.

The First Train of the Year...

2007-01-07T21:19:00.002-05:00

... same as the last train of the year.

I was out looking for some wild art Wednesday, January 3 and saw a crew from the city taking down holiday decorations. It was evening, and the light, while slightly diffused, was nice. I stood on the Y bridge and waited for them to come and take down the wreaths decorating the bridge. Free from the downtown canyon shadows, it would have been a nice photo had they ever come. Instead they turned just short of the bridge and headed back the other way.

But while I was waiting, the southbound GLT empties crossed the former B&O bridge in the nice evening light. The same set of power was on the train as the last time I saw it. The sky was bleached out by the last light, the blue sky of the day gone, and as the train slowly crossed the bridge, I thought about panning.

And tried it. But to pan a train moving less than 10 mph, you need a long, long, LONG exposure. Still, it worked out, more or less, and was a pleasant way to start the railfanning year.

Last Train of the Year

2006-12-31T10:29:00.000-05:00

I had just finished adding up my time card Friday afternoon, and having discovered I had but a few minutes to finish work before overtime, I thought to myself, wife is out with a friend for lunch, I can chase the train. I wonder if it has been through.

No sooner had I completed that thought than I heard the train blow for the Main Street crossing. I still had a few things to complete at work, and then head home to get my gear and the dog out. By the time I caught up with the train again it was north of town, disappearing into the woods off North River Road. I headed to a spot overlooking the river, but my landmarks to find the spot were long gone, as it had been almost a year since trying for the spot. While I scuffled around on the cliff side, the train appeared through the trees, belching exhaust and roaring up the slight grade. It would have been a good shot, with exhaust back lit through the winter trees. Next time.

I headed north again, to Ellis, where the tracks pass near Ellis Lock, and where the PRR used to come within kissing distance of the old W&LE. The train was in sight when I got there, and I shot the leaders coming down the tangent, and the trailing engine, Sd40-2 5855, rolling past the big red house hard by the tracks.

I had wanted to shoot the train where it emerges from the woods on an S-curve to parallel Beech Rock Road for a quarter mile or so, but my trip along the dirt roads (which included some quick car repairs when a branch caught in the chassis) was much longer than the train's. The 5855 was rolling past when I came down the hill, and again I ventured across the hills to find another spot.

Dresden Road is a winding and hilly drive, at times dirt, at times fairly new pavement ducking and weaving across the hills. Near Dresden it settles down somewhat, coming back to water level not far from the river, where the OHCR's former WLE comes out of the woods again, with the PRR's remains paved and trod by bikers and hikers close by. The sun had not swung around quite enough for the photo I had in mind, and had made before, but it would do. Winter.

The tracks cut right through Dresden on a right of way narrow enough to be considered street running, I guess. Only the latest evening light is right for the northbound train, and only the latest trains ever face that light. Friday the train was not late enough, having made good time from Glouster and Zanesville, and the train was somewhat back lit. Not enough for a decent glint, just enough for more winter. Bare trees and low, cool, light. I was trying to figure out how to get the leaders passing the old mill near the tracks, and thought the trailing engine would look much better.

At Trinway I looked for a place to shoot the train, and didn't find one, so I went north to Adams Mills. The Panhandle and the Wheeling are close through town, the former WLE still in use as storage, although not through the village. I looked for a spot to shoot the train to include the town, and was only partly successful.

After Adams Mills I headed to Conesville, but let the train roll through town unmolested, as my final chase of the year had come to an end.

Afternoon Suprise

2006-12-17T19:06:00.000-05:00

I went to Coshocton Tuesday afternoon to bring my daughter to see her mother, and as I pulled in to the parking lot behind her school I heard a steam whistle. I figured the local paper factory was blowing it's noon whistle. At 12:30. Which was a little odd.

When it blew a second time, I handed by daughter to my wife and headed block west to investigate. Because it sure sounded like a steam engine...

It was. The former LS&I 33, nice and clean and full of life, and steam. It simmered for a few minutes in front of the OC depot, and the headed south, perhaps on a break-in run for one of the Ohio Central's Polar Express trips, or maybe they were just running it because they could. Either way, I felt darn lucky to have chanced up it, as did another fellow who was out and about and stopped to take a look.

A Local at Dawn

2006-12-14T13:29:00.000-05:00

A morning trip to Coshocton yeilded another visit with the Coshocton Local, this time as it switched the Clow pipe works on the south side of town. I came across the local as I took my convoluted trip through town on the way home, hoping against hope that I would find a train in the flurries and predawn light.

I came across the 8702 sitting just short of the Clow gate. I had never seen the 8702 before, and better yet, it was lettered for the Pittsburgh and Ohio Central, something else I had never seen. A small group gathered near the gate to examin the switch with a broom.

I left the train and went to find a photo of the train coming through the neighborhood near the plant, but when it appeared I realized it would be pushing it's newly aquired bulkhead flat car of pipe. But the brakie was riding the rear, and undoubtably freezing his ass off too. While the photo is short on neighborhood, it worked out ok in regards to a canopy of trees and a little bit of snow.

The brakie jumped off beside me, flagged the crossing and was back on the rear without ever coming to a stop. The train pushed past, and he was off again to line the switch so the train could head south. Snowflakes were lit briefly by the headlights in the predawn shadows.

I folled the train south to Paper Mill Road, where the train would pass near the mainline, and also past the OC's headquarters. The tracks were still in shadow, but I still got a broadside of the frumpy rebuilt geep.

I went down the street to the main line, where the local would back past again to head into town to switch some other industries. I waited and waited, photographing some weeds against the dawn, hoping against hope that the train would come while the sun was out, and backlit snowflakes danced across the tracks with alarming sparkle. But instead the train took forever, and the sun (and floating sparkles) were gone by the time it game. So I got low and shot the tiny train as it backed past, giving the brief illustion of the middle-of-nowhere before disappearing under the highway bridge in the distance.

Night in Steel Valley

2006-11-06T10:50:00.000-05:00

The end of football season brings playoff trips, and this year I drew a trip to Stuebenville, my fourth trip east this year. I left early, to assure a prompt arrival at the stadium, and maybe allow for a train or two before the game. I enjoy the trip along the river between Bridgeport and Stuby, and always prefer it in daylight.

I breezed through Mingo and Stuby, arriving first in Mingo Jct the same time as a northbound local, and in Stuby in time for... nothing. I followed the tracks up to Toronto, looked around Toronto and headed south again. Nothing stirring in Wierton, either, and the light was rapidly fading. I headed south to Mingo, and as I pulled into a small lot overlooking the mill, I saw a row of coil gons rolling north.

Back north to a small crossing in Stuebenville, a crossing I had seen each time I had visited, but never explored. I had a feeling you would be able to see the mill from the crossing, and would make a good shot if I could beat the train.

I pulled down to the beaten up crossing, half expecting the train to be thundering past by the time I got my car parked. It was an industrial driveway, and despite being only 50 yards off the road, was the kind of place you don't really feel like staying after dark, setting up a tripod. But it only took a moment for the train to appear, it's bright lights and glowing rails sharp against the looming skeleton of the mill.

The train rumbled past, and I whipped the tripod around to get the trio of blue engines rolling toward one of Stuby's suspension bridges. In the distance you can see the strips of a sheriff's office cruiser parked outside the county jail, another good example of the intellegent use of riverfront property.

The train was moving fairly slowly, so I hopped back in my car to chase it up river. By the time I got to the edge of town I was ahead of it, despite having travelled on a mile or so, and I pulled down the bumpy dirt road leading to the marina. It took a minute to see what my shot was, and as I pulled in, a car started up and left. I wondered what they were up to in there before pulling out my tripod and setting up. As the train neared, I noticed it lit up the side of a caboose on display, and quickly recomposed, resulting in a somewhat awkward shot.

The train picked up as speed as it rumbled away, lighting the concrete retaining wall and then smoking it up after the power was out of sight.

It was time for football, where I photographed the valiant, but losing effort of a local high school team playing the defending state champs on their home turf. After shooting the game and getting my photos emailed back to the paper, it was time to head home.

But not after a few night photos in Mingo Jct.
There are always a few switchers sitting outside the mill, parked outside the roll up doors that lead to the engine house. This time, hidden in the starry lights, a fellow remote control switcher was pushing ore cars over the dumper, a line of flame marking their progress over the heaters. The night wasn't that cold, or else the smoke effects would have been more profound.

As I stood on the hill outside the school overlooking the mill, I saw the familiar triangle of lights creeping through the trees. I wanted a shot of the train passing the mill, lighting the gondolas and mill with headlight wash. So I stood there, trying to guess if I could beat the train to the parking lot, despite the various stop lights between me and my destination.

Long story short, I could. But only because the train was switching the yard. After running around town a few times, thinking the train was leaving, I gave up, and shot it where it was, and then began the long ride home.

Steam's Return

2006-10-28T10:09:00.000-04:00

10/23/06
I knew the OC's 1293 would be returning to Zanesville on Monday, because it had to. There is no other way to get back to Coshocton. A crew member told me Friday that it would be in steam, too.

I had some appointments to deal with Monday morning, and I just assumed I missed the 1293's return trip when I went into work later in the morning. But as I was sitting in the office, I heard a familiar whistle, and went out to find the train.

There was no sight of the train at the yard, and no puddle under the hydrant used to fill the steamer on Friday. I figured I would have plenty of time to get to the scenic overlook that affords a view of all of down town- and the OC's bridge over the Muskingum River. Something made me look at the bridge from ground level.

That is when I found the 1293. Going across the bridge. Guess they didn't need any water.

Back to State Street. I didn't really have any other options. Not that it is such a bad place to take pictures of steam engines in snow flurries.

The train sat at State Street for a minute, and then backed down the connection and up the former WLE. I raced over to Keen St to get a shot of the train backing up. There is a funny crossing here, as the tracks cross two streets in the middle of an intersection. I told the guy who got off the train about the photo I put in the paper, and asked if they would back all the way to Coshocton. He told me they would run the engine around in Armco Yard and then head north.

After shooting the train going away, I headed back to the office. I told the City Editor about the steam engine, and she said she had heard it, but didn't seem all that interested in using it was wild art, despite the 2000 hits on the web gallery and two reprints we had sold. Oh well. I figured I would get a shot I had hoped for anyway, just in case we needed some wild art (slow news day art, for lack of a better term)

I rolled down an alley beside Armco and watched the 1293 hook up to it's train. As it started to pull, I headed north along West North River Road to the fields I had shot the train crossing the first time around, and I had shot the coal train passing several times before, most recently in the post titled 'heavy train in the heavy rain.' Before I did though, I shot the train passing the marina, and then curving into the woods along the road. And then north, to the field, where three other people were waiting to see the train.

A steamer looks somewhat awkward running backwards, but it was still pretty cool to see. As the train disappeared down the straight stretch of track along the road, it almost looked timeless.

Steam!

2006-10-22T21:40:00.000-04:00

When I heard that Ohio Central would be loaning their ex-CP Pacific 1293 to the Byesville Scenic Railway I was pretty excited. Not because I planned on heading out to Byesville (I don't get out much any more) but because you can't get from OC HQ near Coshocton to Byesville without passing through Zanesville. By rail, at least.

I figured that they would tow the 1293 cold to Byesville, and I heard that the engine would be facing east for the runs out of Byesville, and thus be towed tender first south of Coshocton to Zanesville.

Even so, it would be nice to see a steam engine, even if it would be cold.

I heard Thursday night that the short train to Byesville would be pulled by the 1800, of ballast train fame, and consist of the 1293 and some support cars. I planned on heading out early Friday, to at least get a few shots. After all, an RS18 isn't so bad either.

It was raining when I woke up, and I headed north. The rails looked pretty shiny for a rainy day, so I thought I might have missed the train. But north of town I saw a fellow with a tripod, and stopped to see what was afoot.

Turns out he had chased the train from Coshocton in the dark. Also turns out the steam engine was very much alive, and pulling the train.

So I settled in across the tracks, and waited for the train. There was no mistaking it's approach, even if it was at a crawl. The gentle chuff and melodic whistle were magic. I squeezed a few frames, and tore ass south, to get the train against some fairly colorfull hills across the river.

As I arrived at my spot, I saw the steam drifting across a corn field, and got a timeless shot of distant steam. The effect was made complete by the jointed rail.

After the shot, I ran like hell up the road to get my broadside shot. There was no place to park closer to the spot, and the train was going slow enough that I would catch up easily.

I passed the guy with the tripod and another guy I knew further down the road, at a small private crossing. I was heading toward a curve closer to town, just outside the city limits. The hills would make a nice backdrop, although when I got to my spot I realized I should shoot looser, to include the Muskingum River. Oh well. A vertical and a horizontal were the result.

After the shot at the curve, I headed toward the next crossing, where the train would pass under I70 and cross Linden Avenue near a bar. I tried to find a way to include the bar, and gave up, heading to State Street instead. The train would have to stop to line a switch anyway.

As the train approached State Street, it slowed to a crawl, barely moveing around the sharp curve, once a connection between the Wheeling and Lake Erie and Baltimore and Ohio. I don't know if they worried about derailing or just wanted to give the crew member a chance to get to switch, but the train was crawling. Every few seconds the 1293 would let out a chuff, and shoot darker steam skyward. I can only imagine the sight if it was 10 degrees cooler.

The crewman walked toward the switch, bent down to unlock it, and then appeared to go through most of the keys on his keyring to unlock it. The steamy brute behind him glared with her single headlight.

The short train pulled across State Street and stopped, simmering in the gloomy morning. I took the opportunity to shoot some typical steam detail shots of the valve gear, and then noticed the quiet simplicity of the trailing driver.

The train sat for a few minutes, during which a little boy and his dad came out to see the train. They stood on the porch and looked, and the little boy yelled out a hello. I waved, pleased to see a youngster getting to see the steam engine.

And then, with a short blast of the horn from 1800, the train began to move. A huge cloud of steam enveloped the 1293, and I scrambled to get in better position. I shot the train disappearing into the cloudy sky, and then backing past a trackside house.

One more shot as the train receeded into the distance, and then it was time to drive like hell again. From State Street I made every light to the Y-bridge, a rare feat that includes a left turn light, and two more stoplights and then a right turn on the bridge. I don't think I have ever done it before. At the bridge, I stopped to get the train disappearing through the dog food factory.

Downtown, the train stopped at the yard office, a runty little former CSX trailer. The crew got out and milled around, but there was not nearly as much engineer-checking-his-steed stuff as I expected, although a fellow did roll out a fire house and run it over to a nearby hydrant. Eventually a guy from the water department showed up, and I took his picture connecting the hose. I recognized him from my newspaper duties, and we chatted about the steam engine for a little while as the tank filled.

After the hose was recoiled and put in the tool car, it was time to go. The 1293 let out a whistle, and remembering the display at State Street, I knew the steamer would let out a cloud as it started to roll. I got a few shots of it obscuring itself, both with a little of the former PRR station in the background, and then a few more as the train disappeared out of sight.

Look for the 1293's return soon, and one more photo from this batch that I just can't get blogger to upload.

Rainy Night at the Yard

2006-10-04T23:20:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-21T20:57:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-19T22:32:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-17T22:14:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-13T09:28:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-13T09:22:00.000-04:00

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

2006-09-01T09:26:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-28T20:19:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-28T20:18:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-25T12:22:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-22T19:13:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-19T10:26:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-14T23:11:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-13T09:54:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-10T23:08:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-29T22:32:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-08T09:50:00.000-04:00

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.

A New Face on the OHCR

2006-07-08T09:48:00.001-04:00

June 29, 2006
I can see the OHCR's line through Zanesville when I peek out my office window, and should I hear an airhorn I usually take a surreptitious peak out the window to see what is passing. Wednesday afternoon, I got a late look at the northbound's power disappearing behind the downtown buildings. The rear of the leader looked more yellow than normal, but I passed it off to a slightly obscured view.

Thursday, when I saw the loaded gons head north much much later than normal, I headed out to find the train. The track swings westward enough that the train heads into the lowering sun. A late train, although rare, is a great thing.

Thusly I was surprised when I saw the leader of the train, the former CSX 4602. I had heard rumors and rumblings about new former CSX arrivals, but I didn't know it had hit the road. It was a former yard engine, an aging Sd40, and looked positively stubby next to one of the Ohio Central Sd40-2s and it's long back porch.

The train changed crew north of town, and I drove around waiting for it to leave. When it started to move, I headed north of town to get the train wrapping itself around a curve normally better suited to cloudy days. I had visions of the train rolling through the Dresden street running during the nice evening light.

The train took forever to get to my spot, only a few miles north of the crew change. When the engineer saw me lingering by the crossing, he laid on the horn, all the way through the crossing. From down low, the train towered over me as I crouched to get the shot.

As I headed north, thinking of places to shoot the train suited to the evening light, my cell phone rang. A plumber had been summoned, trouble was a foot. So I had to turn around. But the whole ride home I thought about the joys of the Ohio Central. Jointed rail, winding wooded right of way, and an eclectic, ever changing roster.

Last Light

2006-07-08T09:43:00.000-04:00

May 5, 2006
The local has had an unusual combination of aging locomotives on it this week, and since my wife would be looking for houses with our realtor, it would be a fine evening to tingle some pixels in the evening light. So went home, fed the dog, planted some zucchini, and when I heard an airhorn, went down to the tracks. To my chagrin, the train was disappearing into the woods, and I was forced to give chase. Well, not forced, but certainly wouldn't have been able to photograph it otherwise.

Into the hills to the west, squinting into the setting sun. I found the first crossing I could access, and mulled my possibilities. The shadows had covered the tracks coming toward me, except for a narrow band. I thought the train would look nice going through that narrow band with a dark background. A deer crossed the tracks, and a squadron of baby raccoons marched along the drainage ditch. I turned around, and went off to find another spot, and a headlight appeared. So back across the tracks again, parked, and got to work.

The train rumbled through the shaft of light, which since my arrival had moved, and messed up my grand plans. The engineer gave me a horn salute, and notched it out as he passed. I turned, and watched the train roll into the sun, the bugs dancing above the train in the glorious evening sunlight. The raccoons applauded. It was wonderful.

And to think that I almost left...

New River Blues

2006-05-26T09:12:00.000-04:00

May 24-28, 2006
Wednesday after another forgettable day at work I left for West Virginia. The day was forgettable in that it was a fairly typical day, also that I didn't get out when I wanted to get out, or even needed to get out. I didn't get on the road until 2 hours after I expected to. Part of the job, I guess. But the more I need to get out early, the less likely that I will. I can't wait to leave in the middle of an assignment when my daughter is born.

So I headed south, into the lovely golden evening light draping the southern Ohio hills. And construction barrels.

It was the first time I had seen my dad in nearly a year, and we sat on our beds and shot the bull before going to sleep. Took a few minutes to get used to not having a snoring, pregnant wife beside me, and 6 am came even earlier than usual.

We set out into the foggy gloom, down, down, down, into the gorge to Prince. A former Chesapeake and Ohio station sits beside the track. A famous spot, among railfans, a photo of the station's waiting room a source of some recent, unwarranted, controversy among train weirdos. It is a handsome little station.

I don't know what time we got to Prince, but at 7:35 a grain train went west, rumbling along behind two locomotives. The morning fog was still hugging the tops of the hills, hundreds of feet above us, so I shot vertical. Nothing spectacular for me photographically, but it seemed to bode well, as we had both heard the line, while scenic, was sparsely trafficked.

We rolled east to a tiny nowhere called Quinnimont, which used to be a spot of hustle and bustle on the line, but is now looking back at it's glory days, rather than head to a bright future. There was nothing there, and anything railroad related would have required some serious trespassing, it appeared. Crossing the tracks in the middle of nowhere is one thing, hanging outside a yard office is another thing entirely. Sooner or later, we would have gotten the boot, at the very least.
So we headed west, through Prince, on our way to Thurmond, another famous spot. There is no real, viable way to get between said locales, a paved route requiring a long trip over the hills. A short, by mileage, at least, route was a dirt road through the remnants of some other small towns. So we started up a hill down a rutted, bumpy track, that went over a hill the tracks tunneled through below us.

The road is brutal; in retrospect, I should have photographed some of it. We did 10 mph for miles, slowing to ease over rocks in the road, branches knocking the scanner antenna off the car once or twice. Roads that looked even worse disappeared into the wet woods on occasion. The reason for this road's construction had long since disappeared.

I don't know how long it took (but it took a while) we ended up in what appeared to be Thayer. The road got better, and a road that looked mostly passable went off in the direction of the tracks.

So we took it.

We ended up at the tracks after a few switch backs and parked. I had seen something photographed here before. I don't know when or where, but a ramshackle shed with flagpole, complete with tattered flag, sheltered (somewhat) a 1960s era Chevy landshark. The place was cool, and I was happy about the prospects. Some shacks were up the hill from the road, a few occupied houses across the road, and some tilted street signs across the tracks. A pole line followed the track around the corner.

We knew a train was coming from the west, as we had heard something about it on the scanner. So we sat and waited. A maintenance of way truck showed up, and some fellows got out and talked to us. They were trying to figure out where they were supposed to be working, but the village of Thayer it wasn't. They told us a train was coming from the west.

As in most places, we heard the train before we saw it. A rumble filled the valley, and as it got louder, another MOW truck showed up. I was afraid it would block dad's shot, but the guy stopped short before doing so, and the train thundered past, with a long string of loaded coal hoppers.

After the train, we wished the MOW fellows a good day, and headed west, back up the switch back road, and into the woods. The road was in much better shape west of Thayer, good for 30 or so. Still narrow though, and winding.

Soon the track and the road came together, and we saw a train sitting in a siding, a single locomotive on a string of coal hoppers. The windows on modern locomotives are so heavily tinted we couldn't see if anyone was in it, and with no locomotives on the other end, we figured it was a helper for the hills, and sooner or later someone would come along to collect the cars and head west.

As we crossed the tracks on a bridge, we saw another train coming, and had to back up at a high rate of speed, whip the car around, and tear ass down the road to try and get to the tracks before they disappeared into the woods. It wasn't going to happen though, and we watched the train rumble in the great, inaccessible void between Claremont and Thayer.

No matter, we figured, as there would be other trains. So we went to Thurmond, a veritable ghost town, once booming, now reduced to a population of 7. Yes, seven.

Thurmond is a famous place, once a booming coal and lumber town, with all manner of commerce, including a steam engine repair shop. We pulled in, squeezing between the old and vacant buildings and the heavy rail just a few feet away. Signs in the staring windows advertised a glorious, rapidly receding past. Black and white photos testified to the hustle and bustle of the place, including a 10 foot wide panoramic photo from a nearby ridge that showed the entire 1920s Thurmond in all it's glory. It looked like a fantastic place.

What is left is less so. Empty and lonely, our arrival was greeted by a track gang, a site enough to make a railfan's blood run cold. Track gangs on single track mean no trains, and nothing to shoot, especially when they disappear to the inaccessible west, thus vastly reducing themselves as potential targets for pixelated posterity. Dad walked over to a gang doing a weld near the road crossing, and came back frowning. The railroad was replacing rail nearby, and had a maintenance window from 10 am to 5 pm. It would continue next week, as well, from Monday to Thursday.

We talked about heading to the Norfolk Southern's Christianburg Mountain, a few hours away. I didn't want to go there, as it would mean an even longer drive home, and overall less train time. Plus I wanted to see what the mystique of the C&O had to offer. I had high hopes for the weekend.

So we went exploring, looking for an overlook somewhere in the hills above Thurmond. It turns out the fantastic overlook describe in some literature dad had was on private property, heavily posted, and gated, as a final insult. On our way out of the muddy dead end a lady accosted us for driving too fast down her road. We could have a hit a dog or a kid.

We could have, maybe, if the kid had been asleep in the road around a blind curve. In the middle of the night. In the rain.

Oh well. It took an hour to make our way back to Thurmond after our waste of time trip to nowhere. We headed back to Prince, on the same horrible road we had come up on. Crossing the tracks, we saw our coal train had disappeared.

The missed trains to caught trains tally had far too many notches in the missed column at this point, dishearteningly early in the trip.

We moseyed our way south, up and down and around and through the mud of West Virginia until we regained paved road at Prince. Over to Quinnimont, and then away from the tracks, taking a huge detour away over the hills to the north while the tracks curved away southeast. When we turned south again, we followed a branch line down to Meadow Creek. The line was hilly and twisted, and made my mouth water with photographic possibilities. We both hoped a train would head north.

We regained the tracks at Meadow Creek, and looked around a little, and then followed the road to Hinton, as far east/south as we planned on heading. It is the division point, a logical place to stop exploring.

A coal train was sitting at Hinton, clicking and hissing as the metal cars expanded in the sun, and air escaped from leaks in the air hoses. It was parked in front of the Amtrak station, and had been there a while, according to a guy painting the trim at the station. We hoped that this train would head north on the branch at Meadow Creek, as we heard a dispatcher mention the branch earlier.

Even though it was getting late, we still had hours to wait. We headed back up to Meadow Creek, and sat and waited. Dad fell asleep, I read my book. Finally, a train came. Rather anti-climatic, as heavy cloud had covered the sun. We hoped it was a train slowing to head up the branch, instead it was our train from Hinton, and it blew through at 40 or more, blowing coal dust off hoppers parked in the yard at Meadow Creek.

I shot the train curving under a classic C&O signal bridge. Signal systems are one of the trade marks of a railroad, and as more and more disappear into larger systems through merger, they are often one of the few long-lasting relics of earlier railroads. Many railfans can identify a railroad by it's signals, even without a train, or never having visited. Unfortunately, CSX's new paint scheme has built in gloom, it is dark and unimpressive, sucking the light out of a photo on an overcast day.

It was 6:40 when the train cleared E. Meadow Creek, our last train at Thayer was at 8:50 am. A long day for not much, including missing two trains.

We expected the flood gates to open, since we were close to a crew change point, trains could be kept there waiting until the track work was done, and then we would be flooded with trains. Not so. We did get another though, an eastbound at West Meadow Creek. It slipped out of the hills in the fading light, as a couple nearby played bluegrass, serenading us with their high, clear voices.

I was starting to feel a little bit of that West Virginia magic.

The train was crawling by the time it's end cleared our spot, so we raced east to Sandstone, passing the stopped train on the way. I guess the dispatcher forgot to line the crossovers for a crossover, as the train rolled past our spot down the road a few minutes later. While waiting for a train across the street from the gas station store, I heard a lot of loud talk about us, which I ignored. If they wanted answers to what we were doing, they could come ask us.

The next morning we awoke to clouds and general gloom. We took the long way around to Hawks nest, heading down a long winding road from Minden, expecting to come out at the end of a bridge, instead coming out beside it. But it would do, despite the crappy weather. I am certainly not against rainy weather, I just don't care for blank skies. There was a little ragged cloud around the hills in the distance, which was nice. Better a little sun and a little ragged cloud, but it was not to be.

So we sat. And sat. A lady, her husband, their dog and a boat came along after a while, and the lady tied the dog up on the dock while they put the boat in. The dog regarded me, I regarded the dog, and we went back to ignoring each other. I talked to the lady, they had a cabin on the river, and were going out there to get ready for the summer. The dog would swim when they got there, and then not for the rest of the year.

So I watched the couple put the boat in, and get in and push off. She had told me the dog barked until the engine started, because he liked to help. Sure enough, the old man sat down by the engine, and the dog started to bark. He pulled the cord, it coughed, caught, and the dog stopped barking, and went back the front of the boat, tail held high.

At this point, it was the only action out there.

Around 9 that familiar echoing rumble filled the valley. We couldn't tell which track it was on, because at Hawk's Nest the tracks split, one heading across the river on a nice bridge, the other disappearing into more inaccessible gorge. So unless the train was on track 1, we would see but a fleeting glimpse through the trees.

fortunately, it was on track 1, and crossed the bridge in front of us, disappearing into the damp, gloomy and mysterious gorge.

Back up to the main road, and off we went to find the bottom of the Gorge at Fayette Station.

I can't imagine what was like to have to cross the gorge in a hurry before the bridge. I wouldn't bother, to be honest. A long way down, and long way up on twisting, narrow roads. Now the whole thing is one way, except for mysterious stretches of two way road in between long stretches of one way road. Opposing traffic is minimal.

The tracks are separated by the river at this point, which is part of the mystique of the whole line. But with a one way road system, you have to run between tracks to get a glimpse of the trains. The railroad related shots at the bottom of the gorge here are fairly boring.

So we wound our way down, and were rewarded at the bottom with a foggy view of the massive bridge (much more interesting at the bottom than the top, indeed, when it was foggy you could barely tell you were on the western hemispheres second longest single arch bridge, or whatever it's distinction is) and the old bridge. As well as a ballast cleaner, a cruel looking machine that would also signal no trains, at least on single track. It was unoccupied.

While I was photographing the beast and dad was looking around, we heard that familiar rumble across the river. We scrambled for a place to shoot, and settled with the middle of the bridge. It was a lost shot. Again.

So back up the other side, and over the bridge. Back into the woods, looking for Kinney. After a long, long trip through the woods, we found it wasn't worth the trip. Again.

Back into the rest of the world, we went off to look for Cunard, which appeared to be in Babcock State Park. Which made it seem like it would be an easy spot to find.

After muddling around a bit, we went into ask the park ranger how to get to that spot. She told dad that the tracks were long gone, there were no trains, and we couldn't get there. Despite dad's reasoning that we had seen a train on the same line less than an hour ago, she was unswayed.

So dad went to get the magazine we were following for directions. She told us the road down to Cunard was gated, washed out, and a five mile hike.

So much for Cunard.

Hoping against reason, we followed another road in the park on the off chance that it would take us to the tracks. Instead it lead us to some cabins, and a large group of birders. Scopes, rain gear (cloudy and rainy, again) and binocs gave them away. Dad asked what was out there, and a lady said a Northern Parula was out and about. I had seen several, but dad, being from Arizona, hadn't seen one yet. So we interrupted her trip to the bathroom to see if we could find one. Of course it disappeared, as did the Rose-breasted Grosbeak which dad didn't have either. We did see a Black throated green warbler, which was nice. Then it started to rain. So we left. After I discovered that the lady I was talking to, was fairly well known in the birding world, and I had heard her speak on my local NPR station, as she lives about 60 miles south of me. And her son likes trains, which is good.

Back to the chase, kicked in the ass to get back to work by a train calling a signal about five air miles way, in an impossible spot to get to.

We headed back to Prince, and it's little station. This time, instead of the horrible road, we took a decent road a long way around, part of the route we took to Meadow Creek the previous day. At Rayland a very cool looking former two stall engine house belied a once exciting past.

At Prince we were surprised to find a coal train in the hole, having west. We thought at first it would head up the branch, and then quickly realized it wouldn't do to send a loaded train to a mine.

I went in the station, and chatted with a guy waiting for a cab after Amtrak came through (we missed it, obviously) and the station master. I got them both worked up, saying that if the government funded Amtrak, then maybe he would get more customers. When I went to the bathroom, the two were bitching about the president and the war. When I came back out, they were still at it. I shot a photo of the waiting room and it's sole occupant waiting for his cab.

I went back outside, and told dad about my visit, and the passenger's wait, and then we waited. The signal went yellow, meaning someone was about. We weren't sure, at first, where they were coming from, the branch or the main, when a work train, consisting of one of the older locomotives we saw all weekend, a companion, and some gondolas. We knew a west bound was awaiting a turn to head into the single track tunnel once the other train cleared, but it was still suprising to see a work train hold up a revenue move.

Shortly after the little train cleared the station, and disappeared east toward Quinnimont, we heard an air horn, and then the signal to the west went green. So our west bound was approaching. And a few minutes later, a pair of brand new(ish) locomotives appeared dragging a grain train west.

As is my habit, I watched the grain cars as the train passed, but I was too close to the tracks to make a photo of any interesting cars, so I photographed my dad instead. Nice boiler.

The photo does demonstrate his gear, although some may mistake the tripod's narrow legs for flimsiness. When I tell people my dad videos trains for a living, and that he has a professional camera, it is often met with gentle skepticism, the kind reserved for a stray dog on the approach.

We had an idea that another westbound was approaching, so we decided to move, a bit further west, to where the branch leaves the main line, and the main line ducks under a road bridge and into a tunnel. We parked at a gate, and dad went trackside while I opted to shoot from the bridge. As we waited for a train, I was alarmed to when a track crew showed up. It wasn't CSX, but another smaller company that must have been hired as a contractor. A big flatbed crane truck and a highrailer pulled into my spot, and when the guy in the pickup hirailer got out, I said I expect you want me to move, eh? He didn't, and we talked about where in AZ I was from ( told him Tucson, as dad's car has AZ plates. No need to muddy the situation.) He was looking toward the track when dad poked his head out from behind a bush, and the guy turned to me, slightly alarmed, and asked if I had someone down there. I said yes, my dad. He said ok, unlocked the gate, and the went down to the tracks, as I excused myself, as the train was coming. I shot the train from the bridge, a bridge with no sidewalk. It was probably silly, and as soon as the power cleared, I got off the bridge. Dad came up, and we skedaddled, back up the dirt road to Thurmond.

I was glad that the track crew were ok with us being there, as some would have raised holy hell. I guess they could tell we were harmless, probably because we had cameras and we visible. I don't think terrorists usually spend a lot of time just hanging out. Reading books while waiting for a train.

So back into the woods. We were a long way from anywhere when the scanner crackled and someone mentioned a clear signal, which meant another westbound. We came to a narrow, muddy track heading trackward, so we plunged down it. At a switchback, a huge puddle awaited. I told dad not to go down it, and he told me to throw a rock in it, to see how deep it was. I did, and thought the splash was enough to keep us out of it (I am getting cautious in my old age) but when I got in, we plunged through it. The track was below us, and while I was stoning the puddle, I could hear the train. It passed as we headed down hill, our patient train from Prince.

At the bottom, we were greeted by a guy with a pickup truck, a huge puddle, and a pile of dirt. It appeared CSX didn't want people crossing the tracks there, or at least parking on the right of way. Our new companion was meeting some friends, the same friends that we passed earlier, dragging a boat behind a pickup on the crappy road. They were going to camp and fish all weekend, which meant they would be parking where we were. We were both a bit incredulous about them getting a boat down the even narrower road we were on, but dad moved his car to the top of the hill. I carried our gear across the tracks, and set up, should we be surprised by a train while he was gone.

A signal was visible around the corner, facing west. So I walked west, so see what was out there. The east facing (westbound) signal came into site, and it was green, meaning we would have another westbound. We moved west a little, so see the signals, so we could include them going away. Then we stood around, waiting. I photographed one of the most hideous bugs I ever seen, and we watched the fishing expedition cross the tracks. Lots of coolers, that appeared to be very heavy. Beer, presumably. And then the boat. It took all of 15 seconds. And of course we expected the train to come during that tiny window, and smash the boat and ruin our afternoon, the fishermen's afternoon, and trapping us with a train between us and the car.

And of course it didn't. But the signal went out, and I envisioned being ousted by a signal maintainer during the 5 or so seconds it was out when it came back on, this time red. So we had an east bound train. We moved west, to shoot the train framed by the signals And a short time later, the familiar rumbled filled the valley. Another loaded coal train appeared out of the mist and thundered past. I can only imagine the thunder in steam days.

So we trudged back to the truck, leaving behind what was once McKendree. As we marched up the muddy track back to where dad parked the car (we were alarmed to note the headlights were on) I paused to photograph the only sign of the past I saw; (besides some broken crockery) some mossy stairs, leading into the lush West Virginia jungle. Someone once lived here, and on our way out I pondered the temporary nature of company towns, of capital and sweat equity left behind when times get tough.

Back our muddy track, the truck's automatic lights still on, because of the tree gloom, through Thayer, to Claremont. We stopped, examined the situation, and found it to our liking. We crossed the tracks on a well worn path, and waited. The sun came out, and lit the tops of the hills as it disappeared for the night. A lovely sunset played out behind us.

As the light softened, warmed and slowly darkened, I walked down the side of the tracks to check the signals. Amtrak was due sometime in the evening, although thanks to twisting nature of our route, we were unsure exactly which way it would be coming from, until after some directional negotiations on our part, we realized it would be coming under the nice signal gantry to our east.

The signal was green. Someone was coming, although when was still up in the air. It could be hours, or minutes.

As the sun receded, the fog began to roll in, and we decided to stay until the light was gone, and then decided to stay until the train came. As the light left, and the evening blued, I did some test exposures.

I think we saw the light of the approaching train the same time as we heard it, and as the train approached I made my exposure.

The train roared past us, faster than most, the long wheelbase coaches squealing around the curve, the headlight lighting the trees as the lights bringing up the rear glowed like little red eyes until they disappeared behind the trees. We both drew a breath and agreed it was pretty spectacular.

On the way out, I stopped and made one last frame.

definitely worth missing out on a decent dinner. (because everywhere worth eating was closed by the time we got back to Beckley)

Back out the next morning, again in the fog. We found our way to Sewell, when the tracks rejoined after their time apart across the river. We knew we wanted to be down by the river, but getting there wasn't immediately apparent. After making our way down to river level, our first obstacle was a stream. Too wide and rocky to jump, and not quite enough rocks above the water level to dash across, especially with heavy gear. We tried a number of routes, including one that left me with one wet foot until dad found a way across, and we continued our treacherous path along the river. No path, just rocks. Finally, we found a spot, and the waiting commenced. The sun had not yet come over the hill when we heard the now familiar echoing rumble over the roar of the rapids. We wondered about rafters, but none showed. The sound bounced around the canyon, until we weren't 100 percent sure which track the train was one, until it abruptly shifted to the left, and a train appeared on the bridge, crawling across under a permanent 10 mph slow order.

The sun was making it's way over the ridge, so we waited for another train. Unfortunately, it hadn't made it's way around enough to be quite right, but we did see some rafters.

We made our way back to land, over the treacherous rocks, taking care not to damage ourselves or our gear, and then up to the track level, where we waited an eternity for the daily freight train to come. By noon, it was time to cut our losses, and we headed back to the truck, after shooting the remains of the west-side sub. The tie plates were dated 1936.

When we got to the car, we heard a train call the signals, a westbound, so we searched for river access. We ended up shooting from a little boat ramp as a train passed on the other side of the river, in crappy light, with rafters in the foreground. There was a big group of butterflies there as well, something we had seen on every damp spot in the sun the whole trip. There were pipevine swallowtails (yellowish blue) spicebush swallowtails (the sharp one in the center of the frame) and the eastern tiger swallowtail. And some little tinys I couldn't get a photo of.

From the random riverside view we made our way back through a throng of slack-jawed teenage rafters that moved like a very slow herd of cattle out of the way of our truck as we passed. I thought about mooing as we passed, but thought better of it.

To Thurmond, probably 5 miles away as the track curls, but a much longer trip by rubber wheel. We got there, set up, and waited. As is normally the course. I walked across the bridge to photograph a Mopac boxcar sitting at the shortline across the river. On the way I photographed some friendly graffiti and some hobo marks.

The hobo, generally known as the Colossus of Roads is pretty well known, having put his chalk mark on thousands of freight cars. Hobo marks are generally fairly discreet, seen near ladders on boxcars mostly, although I saw and photographed a number on coal hoppers.

I rejoined dad on the railroad side of the river, and we waited. It was getting warmer, and sunnier as the day moved on, it had turned into a nice day. Of course the light was high overhead, and in general the light was pretty mediocre at best, but it was still nice to have some sun. I kept my sweatshirt on though, as I don't like sunscreen and like sunburns even less. I probably looked fairly disreputable, having neither shaved nor showered in a few days.

I can't remember if the scanner tipped us off to an eastbound coal train, or the familiar rumble, but either way, we ended up shooting a pair of eastbound coal trains. I did the same thing with both, a fairly familiar shot of a train curving past the Thurmond landmarks; the coaling tower, the downtown buildings and the signal bridge. I left in a lot of the big green wall, and if you pay attention to the railroad video/dvd market, you may see this photo (or one similar) in the not too distant future.

Having somewhat exhausted the current light possibilities of Thurmond, we headed south again, stopping at Claremont, as there weren't many other nearby places to stop. If traffic is rolling, I suspect it is easy to get stuck in one place on this line.

Standing around at Claremont, when a train appeared out of the east, and then curved into the siding. I messed up the shot. Oops.

The train goes clunking around the curve, and I snap away at the grain hoppers as they roll past. The end passes, and is it recedes away in the distance, another train pokes it's nose around the curve. A-ha! A meet! and the first of the trip. A new GM rolls past on a train of loaded coal hoppers, and then it too disappeared into the woods.

We were standing around mulling our possibilities when the signal went yellow, meaning a train was following other other east. A few minutes later it went green, and a bright yellow nose eased around the curve and a pair of Union Pacific locos rolled past with a molten sulfur train. When the power was beside me, the engineer saw the green signal and notched it out, and the train roared off.

Dad and I headed west, up through Thurmond and out to the highway at Glenn Jean, where we went north to cross the gorge and try and find an overlook. We first looked at Nuttal cemetery overlook, but found our view blocked by a perfectly placed tree. In theory, one could have jumped down a minor cliff to see around it, but one doesn't tend to do that so much with $30,000 worth of pro video gear. Especially since a way back up was not assured. So back out through the cemetery, following directions that were clearly not written from the field, but from home days or weeks afterwards. From memory, apparently, since they left out significant parts of the directions, like, turn right at the post office.

So after a rather muddled approach, we finally found Nuttal Station overlook. There were a lot of cars lining the side of the dirt road, apparently rock climbers, although we didn't see any, or hear any tortured screams and dull thuds. Into the woods we went, and found a decent view of the track. Or one of them, as the tracks were split at this point. The westbound track was lit, more or less, and the eastbound track was completely shadowed by the gorge. We stood around, and searched for a peeping bird in the bush. The cliff was fascinating, as I couldn't tell how high it was, even by lying down and looking over the edge. Dad stayed near more solid ground.

The rumble appeared, and a westbound empties passed below us. The light was awkward, not quite right, not quite glinty, if that was even possible without horrendous lens flare.

Back through the woods to the truck, and then over hill and dale through the softening light to Hawk's Nest State Park, and it's pair of overlooks. The first was ok, the second an immortal spot. We walked down the stairs, and while we were walking back to the car we head the rumble, so we had to run.

unfortunately, it was an eastbound, and the sun had covered the eastbound side track, and was rapidly eating away at the westbound track as well. So we shot the train as it curved through the canyon below us, serenaded by the redneck yap of some civil war reenactors, who kept jabbering about how they didn't like Yankees. I don't know if it was for our benefit or not. I guess I could have asked them why they liked to reenact the losing side, but it was a long way down.

After our train we rolled west and down, until we found the tracks at Kanahwa Falls. No sign of any trains, by signal or scanner, for the rest of the evening.

Vaguely sunny Sunday morning when we headed back to Hawk's Nest with the intent of finding our way across the river. We didn't have look that hard to find our way across the river, we took the well maintained walkway on the side of the railroad bridge. It probably would have been frowned upon by CSX, had we come across any one who gave a damn.

The sun was fighting it's way through the clouds when we got our first train, an eastbound. The sun came out halfway through the train, then packed it in for the rest of the morning. Two more trains went east, including Amtrak, and then it started to rain. Dad and I stood under a tree and talked while we waited for a westbound. Finally we got a coal train crawling across the gleaming bridge and trickling past us. It was time to leave, for me to head home, and dad to find a new location. He would stay another week, finishing up shooting for his DVD on the gorge. On our way back across the bridge, another eastbound snuck past us. Too many trains in one spot. Stuck.

While sitting across the river from the boat ramp and parking lot, I noticed a large crowed of people standing around the ramp. I figured a boat group was going to head out on one of the pontoon boats tied up on the shore, and I didn't pay much attention. After the last train, as we made our way past, I saw that it was a baptismal in the New River.

Damn. It would have been a fantastic shot, a baptismal with a coal train crossing the river in the background. I can see it in my head still, two weeks later, and it sums up the trip for me, a series of almosts and not quites, not enough trains and light that teased and disappeared. Generally the photos were successful, and it was a good time, it was great to hang out with my dad again and watch trains, as it had been far too long. I can feel the gorge still, close, but too far for a one day trip. The shots are there, with luck and patience, the spirit of the gorge hiding silently in the shadows.

Take Me to the River

2006-05-26T09:03:00.000-04:00

April 1, 2006
I had seen a photo of hot steel cauldron cars in a scrap yard, so on Sunday I headed east to the Ohio River to see if I could photograph them before they disappeared. The thing about railfans, or train buffs, is that each has a niche of sorts, finding a certain something in the steel wheel that fascinates us. All of us like trains, my niche, among others, is freight cars. Very dorky in an already dorky crowd, but such is life. So to photograph cars that are normally well hidden in a dangerous steel mill is a good thing. Also, it would be a chance to wander the industrial crust of the Ohio River. You know what hangs out with industry. (trains)

I guess I read too much as a kid, but I have always been fascinated by big rivers. I don't need to stand on their banks, or dip my toes. I just feel a comfort of sorts when I see them, a glimpse through the trees, soaring over them on a bridge. Like seeing a vein through the thin skin of one's wrist. It is nice to know they are there, those integral parts of the entirety. History, industry, commerce flowing like mana just above the current of the waters. My wanderlust is allowed a moment to wander further, riding those currents where they will lead, just for a moment feeling like Huck. They represent all the places I could be.

So I headed over the hills, coming down into the Ohio River valley near Wheeling and heading north along the divided, but still winding, river road. The river, the road, the railroad tracks all on one ledge, it is always near sensory overload when I travel this road.

Near Stuebenville the steel mills appear, first at Mingo Junction, then Stuebenville itself. Enormous, filthy monuments to capitalism and expansion, rusting and fading around the edges, I love to look at them. Which leaves me a little conflicted. I hate to see people cut down trees, yet I love to gaze upon the massive, wretched polluting mills, soiling the air, by extention leaving gaping holes across the country to satisfy their need for raw materials. I guess if you are going to pollute and destroy, I am only satisfied when it is done on the grandest levels.

I slowed as I passed the mills, and then crossed the river on a suspension bridge, a cement suspension bridge. Within sight of the steel mills.

In Weirton, I immediately saw my quarry- in a scrap yard on the other side of a divided highway. So the only way to get their photo would be to pull over on the side of the highway and photograph them hit and run style. I am not so keen on attracting attention to myself at the best of times, so standing on the side of a divided highway was not something I was looking forward too. I imagined WVa state troopers giving me an earfull and carting me off to trooperville for endangering the driving public. So I drove around the area, through the mill and around town. A run down place, but at least the mill was still operating. I was going to stop and take some photos, but instead I headed back to the highway to see my cauldron cars. Up the on ramp, as I readied to pull over in a safe spot, I noticed Norfolk Southern had parked a train in front of the line of cars, leaving only a few visible, and those only from the on ramp. So I kept driving, and after turning south, I looked across the river and Stubenville and saw a northbound train racing along the river.

!!! I had wanted to chase a train along the river for ages, but I had not yet done it. So I took the next bridge to Stubyville and headed north. I zipped right along, because my impression of the train was that it was moving rather quickly. So I hustled along, peering into the towns and through the trees for some sight of the train. At Wellsville, I figured I was ahead of the train, or I had missed it, so I drove into town looking for the tracks. I couldn't find a way to them, so I gave up, rather quickly I admit, but as I was heading back on the highway I saw the familiar triangle of lights, and an orange locomotive through the trees a few miles downriver. Of course by then I was on the divided highway.

I tore down the road, and found a spot to do a U-turn. Not in the highway, I pulled of side road to do my u-turn, safety first, after all. There was a big railroad bridge over a creek by the highway. I could see the train through the trees, so I raced up the hill, parked the car and scrambled up a bank at the side of the road. I put my head down and charged through some bushes, I was rewarded with a thorny branch stuck to my cheek. I ripped it out and scrambled up the hill. I found a spot overlooking the tracks, the bridge, and the river, but I was fenced in my bushes. To the left was the knife-edge of the hill, a thin line of crumbling rock. I thought for a millisecond about climbing higher. The edge was at eye level, and I couldn't see what was on the other side. Had it not held, it could have been a long fall, a fall that ended on some railroad tracks on which shortly was to appear a train. Later, I thought about falling, and crumpling on the tracks and how my wife would get me back in two boxes.

So I stayed put and grabbed some branches to pull them out of the way. I did a hail-Mary, holding the camera in the gap I made in the branches, and fired off some shots as the train rolled through a gap in the trackside trees. As I scrambled back down the hill, I was surprised how well they turned out. There is a whole different aesthetic to railroad photography, so most wouldn't find this photo all that interesting. I don't either, for that matter, I wish the light was better, I wish some of the trees were there, I am not that pleased with the pole. But it was worth the climb, the late night thoughts about dying and risk, and the thorn in the face.

Back in the car, I headed north. At Wellsville (I think, I need to check the map) I pulled into town, hoping for something with town, river and train. I could see the river, and no tracks between me and it, so the tracks had to be along the river bank. I drove through down, and found a tiny memorial park, with the tracks along one edge. I worked the well-dressed flagpole and a bench into my shot. Again, I wish the light were nicer, but I feel like I am just getting warmed up on this line. I will be back. First you start easy, and as you get to know any location you get more in depth as you learn more about it, and have more opportunities to photograph it. It is much like my newspaper work, although I don't often get a second chance there. With this line, I can return as often as I am able. Looking at this photo, I can see more opportunities at this spot. I am excited to return.

The train was moving fairly well through town, and I thought briefly about giving up the chase. But instead I headed north, and at New Liverpool I saw the train had come to a stand. I wondered if it would meet another train, one I could chase south in the emerging sun. Instead I fumbled around in New Liverpool, and then found my way back on a smaller road. I rumbled through a fading industrial section of town, and emerged, in watery sunlight, in a residential neighborhood. The tracks curved through the area, with a backdrop of houses. It would do nicely, if I could frame it so the houses could be seen. The train blew for the crossing I was at, and as I balanced myself on some rail guarding the crossing flasher, I heard children yelling, and heard the train give two quick blasts to say hello. Through the trees I could see them wave.

The train notched it out as it rolled past, and since the road had turned into a two lane local road, I suspected my chase was over. Back to Weirton, to photograph the pot cars.

I rolled south down the river, peering again through the trees in hopes of catching a glimpse of another train. No dice, so I crossed the river and meandered back through Weirton, then back onto the highway to photograph the cauldron cars.

They were rusty and sad, and filled with water. So they had been there a while; even so I was glad to be able to get a photo of several. As I pulled back on the highway, I remember a nearby scrap yard that had even more old cars. So another loop, passing back south, and doing an interstate shuffle- up and exit, off, and back on, up and exit, etc. I ended up parked on the side of the highway again, and as I peered across the scrap yard of cars retired perhaps before I was born, I spotted a train creeping through the yard. The sun was out, pouring watery sunset light over the scene, and I opened the door to get out. An ambulance passed, and I wondered if they would call me in. I jumped out when the coast was clear, and got a few photographs of the train moving slowly down the once proud Pennsylvania Railroad mainline, which was truncated not far from where I was, past the Weirton Steel mill. Once it stretched from Pittsburgh to St. Louis.

Back south again after my roadside adventure, clear of any state troopers. I had no interest in begin detained, in this current atmosphere I was unsure about how people would react to me photographing a train full of tank cars. One can't be too paranoid, after all. I am less concerned about a ticket for parking on the side of the road then the well-meaning citizenry and their terrorist hunting permits, #91101.

At Mingo I pulled into the same school I had photographed the mill from before, for a daytime version I my shot from a few months ago. Further down the road, I photographed down a main street into town. More opportunities here, as well. My e-friend Kevin Scanlon has some wonderfull steel mill shots here.His railroading photos are pretty magical too.

South again, the light fading, and thinking that I am still on winter time. Instead, having not set my car clock properly, I was an hour later than I thought. So much for suprising my wife with an early arrival home.

Looking across a field from the highway at Rayland, I looked for a locomotive I had seen on the way north. It wasn't there. My heart skipped a tiny beat- this could mean it was in public, and could be photographed. As I left the exit ramp, I saw it coupled with a friend, about to move a string of a silver coal hoppers. Another more or less legal but safe U-turn, and I noticed the train backing away from me. I raced down the road, parked, and the first cars passed me at a surprising clip. The two locomotives approached, at full throttle, absolutely thundering, sand pouring from their sanders (to better grip the rails) and leaving a cloud. I could feel the roar of the engines in my chest, and the sand swirled around me as I squeezed off the last few files on my card.

The photo doesn't do justice to the tiny drama. But it was a hell of a nice way to end the day.