|
|
  |
|
|
|
The north end has been it's usual exciting self. Last night I came in and I could see Bob had a challenging and stimulating evening. The north end was a mess, the UP and the IHB were not happy, the planner had worked his customary 2 hours and was at home reclining in the Lazy Boy watching the baseball games or whatever he watches. I had told myself I wanted nothing to do with management, but after seeing those hours I think I'm ready to sign up.
Anyway, the "plan" had pretty much gone by the wayside by that time and now it was time to improvise. Now I like improvisation. I think of blues and jazz, and the value of improvisation cannot be overstated. However, then it comes to rail traffic management, improvisation really isn't where one wants to be. Having a well thought out and reasonable plan is much more desirable.
So the Super Chief is at home, Bob is crabby, the operation is in shambles, and I get to steer this glacier towards Transportation Paradise. OK. Well, the real problem here is the Usual Problem and the Ignorant Habitual Bother. Both of these fine establishments give railroads a bad name, the UP for its gross inability to move anything, and the IHB for its gross inability to move most anything. A merger there would be a conjunction made in Iron Horse heaven. Perhaps their joint mission statement could a reference to their commitment not to move anything any time soon, if at all.
So what had happened was, as I could gather, that the UP and the IHB refused a 781 NIPSCO train to Calumet Park. The train was sitting at Woodland Junction with something like 5 hours to work and in their usual efficient manner decided to kill it rather than run it. I guess it just must be something in their nature. So as I agonized over all of this going down, I decided I needed some sort of defining comment to give this whole situation some kind of meaning.
I have found that outlet, in the form of the haiku. Yes, the humble haiku has given me not only solace but also a certain deeper understanding of the universe as it relates specifically to rail traffic movement. I have assembled a few for the pleasure of the viewing audience. So sit back and relax and take in the nuances of the haiku.
Oh Soo Line north train
Dead at Watseca watching
We Will Deliver
Please answer the phone
I only want clearances
My train cannot go
Your gleaming tracks shine
So why can't you move a train
Up to Bensenville
The list it is wrong
No set out at Latta Yard
For the fifteenth time
Service Center gods
Please kill my offspring quickly
They might work for you
Jacksonville is great
Fantasy is quite healthy
Now move my damn train
The sun shines above
And for the second day now
The Harbor is plugged
Iron Horse run fast
Chicago is calling you
What? No work message?
The signals are red
Just like the paint on the side
A coincidence?
I am still spellbound
Your movement captivates me
But trackage rights suck
Help me Thoroughbred
I need to run a train soon
Will you shaft me too?
Monon talk to me
Tell me of better days gone
Then nuke Jacksonville
Useless Purveyor
Your yellow fleet makes me puke
Bring back the Eagle
Meadow flowers bloom
Next to a co-op now dead
Where once MoPac ran
Why do you task me?
I only want a recrew
And a taxi cab
Bills and taxi come
I find a little hope now
But wait. No fuel...
Cracked bearing, why now?
This train had a chance to move
You know this hurts me
CP train comes south
Other roads kill it quickly
Same story, new day
Pekin is my home
I huff and puff going south
And still I will die
One of the neat things about working in a tower or anywhere in the field is the neat things you see. So the other morning I am sitting in the tower looking over the train sheet. Now a word about this examination. I use part of my turn over time to give the sheet a good going over. I do this for safety's sake, to gain an acute and meaningful understanding of what's going on, and most importantly to look for anything really neat. So as I look over the sheet I spot my quarry.
A 240 train is slithering south from Bensenville with an oddity in the consist. I check into the timing, and it appears that the train will arrive here after Mr. Sunshine appears so I can get a good look at this critter. The last time something neat came down, it was in the dark and I couldn't see it. So I was somewhat elated that this particular beast could receive the correct examination. As the morning progresses I see a problem developing. This train will get to the Hill and I will have to put it north of the tower, so getting good pictures is out. So I plan accordingly, and as the train looms closer, I notice the clock is synchronizing for a turn over at about the time it arrives. My relief shows up, we begin the transfer, and the train arrives and begins to shove to the Belt. I race down the stairs, and stand on the platform to take in this oddity.
And as the train shoves by, I get a good look (my first) at the CP 9016. It reminded me of a pseudo-F45, with enough oddities to make it interesting. Maintained by GMDD at Winnipeg according to the sticker below the cab. Maybe I can get a look at this thing again as it comes north on 241 tonight. Oh, well...
Last Sunday I awoke to the realization that I should maybe take a train trip.
So I called the dispatcher on duty and inquired as to the veritable cornucopia of rail movements plying the iron highways and byways of this fine state. He ponders the magnitude of my request, and then responds with the words that I have been longing to hear: a relief crew for 241 somewhere down on the CSX. There are defining moments in a person's life and career, and this might qualify as one of them. I wander around in the rain closet for a few minutes, sit on the thunder bucket and ponder a spell, then hop in the auto and away towards the Van I go. I meet up with the crew and off we go.
The initial report says head for Pekin, but this savvy crew knows better. We call in from Salem and are advised the train is leaving the yard in Louisville and we should go to Fogg. So we make tracks (no pun intended) for the south end of Fogg. The train is about half an hour away so the stories are told and the jokes are exchanged. And then gradually the whine of an EMD turbocharger is heard. So we make contact and make the hike from the road crossing to the train. The engineer brings the train to a gradual stop at the south end of Fogg.
The crews exchange the usual insults and reassuring knowledge
that upon tying up they will indeed be first out and ready to
make yet another trip into the abyss we call the CSX. So we hop
aboard. This train, this realization of free work capitalistic
commerce which we are about to move across the Hoosier countryside,
is about 7200' long and the potential for meeting other trains
in an efficient manner is next to nil. As we prepare to inform
the CF dispatcher we are on board and ready to go we find that
we are meeting a CSX train at Fogg. So we let the opposing move
begin to make the meet
before calling the CF. The engineer informs the CF we are the
relief for Z490 at Fogg ready to copy. The other guy had released
his blocks and we took a proceed north in the Fogg and Orleans
and an absolute north in the Mitchell, Best, and Bedford blocks.
We exchange blocks and with a hearty adieu we bid Fogg a fond
farewell.
If you look at Scott's Hoosier Sub page you will note the preponderance of semaphore signals on this sub, and I for one was not disappointed. In fact, the bulk of the signals here were of the semaphore lineage as far as I could tell. As we were sitting in the cab preparing to leave, the Absolute signal at the south end of Fogg (siding to the main) came alive indicating it was an approach lit one.
So we begin the trek north. The engineer is pointing out landmarks along the way north, such as former sidings, towns, villages, good places to eat, and all the essentials a crew needs to know. I just sit back and take in the countryside. Southern Indiana really is a wonderfully scenic area and yet one would never think so. Rock cuts, quaint small towns, and of course at Bedford the infamous street running. The engineer informs me he enjoys the south end for just those reasons: it's like a quiet Sunday ride in the country.
So we motor north through Salem, Orleans, Mitchell, and finally to my pleasure, Bedford. There is something about making your way down the middle of the street at 10 mph amid cars, pedestrians, and curious animals that really is a unique experience. In this day and age of 60 mph intermodal freights and towns chasing railroads out for fear of public safety, it is truly remarkable that this arrangement even exists.
So we get our warrant north to Latta and now the fun begins. The steep climb out of Bedford shatters the quiet. 3 CP SD40-2's scream up the grades as we depart town. The engineer also points out certain houses along the way and informs me of the exhibitionist nature of the women therein. You know, weeding the flower bed in a bikini at 10:30 at night, remarkably as the train is approaching. Of course, not missing a beat, the crews voice their "acknowledgement" with toots on the horn. Remember, when weeding, safety first.
We climb Mt. Olive, Cale, Indian Springs, and come to...the tunnel. The tunnel is really a unique phenomenon. About 1100' foot long and lined with something like 17,000 bricks, it is normally about 15 degrees cooler then the ambient air in the summer and amplifies the scream of the turbocharger about threefold in all seasons. Even with the required hearing protection, the cab is transformed into a sound chamber of rather high decibel magnitude. Exiting the tunnel the smoke plumes from a heavy train are truly impressive.
Now we come through Burns City (Crane), Odon, the Circle Jerk (the remains of Owl Prairie), Elnora, Beehunter, Linton, and finally Latta. At Latta, we do a little switching, and then are informed that we need to swap power at Blackhawk. So Job 128 will go to Blackhawk, get the power and we'll make the swap on the wye. We accomplish this feat, and make our way north. We arrive at Spring Hill and tie the train down, hop in the waiting cab, and arrive at Van 11 hours later for our final tie up. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon and evening.
Van Yard Engine: SOO 4443
Farmersburg Power: CP 5732 - CP 5722 - CP 5773
Maysville Power: SOO 2066 - SOO 4511
Kindill Power: SOO 4428 - SOO 4403 - SOO 4438
XL Power: CP 6016 - CP 5916
Miscellaneous Power: CP 4406
Louisville Power: 240-9 with CP 4406 - SOO 6019 - CP 9016
Back to the Latta Laments index
Editorial content (C) 1998 Mike Dettmers
