CAB RIDE PLUS
by Anonymous
I sometimes have to travel on business, often to one of two cities that are about three hours away by interstate, or four by way of the old U.S. highway the interstate replaced. Since most of this old highway parallels a Class 1 secondary mainline that hosts four manifest freights, two intermodal trains, a tri-weekly Amtrak, occasional coal trains and locals each day, I take the slow route, often with my scanner, in hopes of seeing or pacing trains.
One day I noticed a westbound intermodal train leaving my home city just as I was getting ready to go west on business myself. I was leaving early with possible train pacing in mind, and I figured I had hit the jackpot this day. I had no real idea just how big the jackpot would be!
I listened on the scanner as I followed the end of the train out of the city and headed for the first small town going west. I stopped at a crossing on the edge of town and saluted the crew, then sped ahead to a good stretch of pacing road.
The three B36-7's disappeared around a bend at the end of the pacing, and I headed for the next town, a crew change point, in hopes of alerting the new crew that I would be driving along with them. A couple of friends had told me that some crews are apprehensive when they see pacers, not knowing whether they are innocent railfans or something more sinister.
When I got to the crew change station, the intermodal train was not there yet, but I saw the two members of the new crew come out of the company building with their grips and approached them. I explained I planned to pace them along the 100 miles or so of their crew district that ran along the old highway, and that I'd be listening in on my scanner. I asked if they expected any meets along the way and got my first pleasant surprise of the day...they invited me into the building to check the computer for other trains. The engineer and the conductor and I traded stories for a few minutes after that, and I even gave the engineer one of my business cards.
About then, the air horn sounded for the crossing next to the depot, and the three of us went trackside again. I gave my new friends a wave as they climbed aboard the lead unit and I headed back to my car.
For 40 miles or so, the line runs well away from the highway, so I jumped on the interstate to get ahead of the train, had a late breakfast and made a rest stop, then parked along the tracks. A few minutes later the train arrived, and I pulled out onto the highway to begin my pacing adventure. I heard the crew on the scanner talking about me and waved back.
A few miles down the road I noticed the intermodal train was falling farther behind me, even though I was going under the train speed limit. I stopped at a crossing to see what was up.
To the east the train was crawling, and I heard the crew on the scanner asking if they would need to stop their nine-thousand foot train. To the west, I saw a work crane just clearing up the mainline for the oncoming train. I decided to go on down to check on the crane and was pulling away from the crossing when I heard my name and the magic words on the scanner: "If you got your ears on, come back to the crossing."
I turned around and got back to the crossing just as the lead unit was arriving. The conductor was climbing off the engine and heading in my direction.
"Give me your car keys," he said. I gave him a quizzical look and he clarified, "Let me have the keys to your car and I'll meet you down the way."
All right!! Cab Ride!!
With a big smile, I gave him the keys and pulled myself up the steps and through the door into the cab. As I sat down in the fireman's chair and pulled the door shut, I said hello again to the engineer on the other side of the cab behind the console. He said the conductor would take the car and meet us down the line. I said that was fine with me.
We began to pick up speed and passed the crane. A few miles later, the engineer told me to come on over and stand behind him.
He pointed out the ammeter and showed how it indicated whether power is applied from the throttle or to the dynamic braking. He asked if I knew what the GE model designations mean about axles and horsepower, and I let him explain. I already knew that the "36" in B36-7 meant 3600 horespower and that the "B" referred to the four axles, but I didn't remember that the B36-7 actually had 3750 horses. He showed me the controls for the throttle and the dynamic brake and, as we approached the next town, he got up and told me to sit down in his seat. He asked if I knew the horn signal for crossings, and I assured him that I knew to blow two longs, a short and a long, held to the crossing. I sat in the engineer's seat through that small town, merrily blowing for about half a dozen crossings. Then the engineer reached over, put the throttle controlling 11,000 horsepower moving a mile and two-thirds of intermodal train in Run 8, and left me absolutely alone in the cab while he used the bathroom!
He knew what he was doing, as the train was just beginning a long climb out of a river valley with no crossings for several miles. I suspected as much and figured he would take his seat back when he got out of the bathroom at the rear of the cab.
Instead he moved to the fireman's seat on the other side of the cab, put his feet up, lit a cigarette, and asked if I was okay. I said I was doing fine.
To my utter amazement and delight, I spent the next 55 rail miles and about an hour and a half running three GE's pulling a nine-thousand foot intermodal train over a mainline Class 1 railroad while the engineer sat in the fireman's seat asking every few minutes for speed readouts and tellling me where to put the throttle, when to idle and set up the dynamic brakes, and what setting to put the brakes at. I kept the eagle eye out for road crossings and worked on maintaining speed. After awhile the engineer stopped giving me exact settings for the throttle and told me just to notch it up or down as needed to maintain speed.
Along the way, the train's conductor paced us in my car, as we rolled through several more towns, down into and up out of river valleys, and across flatlands at 50 mph, in and out of a couple of rain showers, heading west.
The engineer told me that he had been on the crew district for 20 years now and that he had once had to decide whether to pursue a chance to enter my current career field or to stay with the railroad. I tried to assure him that he made the right decision. He also told me that he spent several weeks each year traveling around his railroad's system training locomotive engineers. I guess he wanted to see with me how good a trainer he could be!
Meanwhile, we heard from the dispatcher that we were meeting an eastbound train at a siding about 40 miles away. The engineer radioed the conductor, who'd taken a walkie-talkie with him, to rendevous with us at the siding.
I called the engineer's attention to a discrepancy between the speed reported by a defect detector and the lead unit's speedometer. We timed the speed between mileposts and discovered the speedometer was a couple of miles per hour off, giving us a reading of 49 when we were really only doing 46. Well, better too high than too low, at least we were sure we weren't going faster than the posted limits.
It was also fascinating to feel the jolts of slack action as we set the dynamics for a downgrade or accelerated upgrade. Repeated thuds actually lifted me several inches out of the seat on more than one occasion.
Finally, after climbing the steepest grade on the crew district and getting back on the level, more or less, I maintained a steady 30 as we spotted the approach signal for the siding where the meet would take place. At this point, the engineer told me to set up the dynamics and "use your own judgment" with the dynamic brake to stop the 9000-foot train short of the red stop signal at the east end of the siding, now only a couple of miles away. O-kay.
I had us crawling a couple hundred yards short of the signal. The conductor was waiting at the switch, and my car was along the tracks, now almost 70 miles from where I'd handed over the keys and climbed aboard.
For the first time in almost an hour, the engineer stood up and walked over behind me to apply the engine brake for a smooth stop about 100 feet short of the signal. He asked if I wanted to ride down the siding with them, but the conductor was already climbing aboard and I was concerned about running late for my business appointment another 40 miles down the road, so I said thanks about a dozen times and stepped out of the cab and down off the engine with a grin that ran from ear to ear. The ultimate railfan experience of my life was over.
I paced the train down the siding then headed off to take care of business. I felt an odd mixture of complete and total exhilaration and a sense of relief that my stint behind the throttle had been without mishap. I was also feeling somewhat worn out, as my hour and a half in the engineer's seat had required total concentration on the road ahead and constant attention to speed and control settings. I had a new appreciation for the Hours of Service Law.
I also reflected on the amazing coincidences that led to this incredible day...if I hadn't started out at just the right time, if I hadn't stopped at the crew change point to alert the new crew to my presence, if I hadn't given the engineer my business card and perhaps inspired him to discuss his career choice, if the train had not had to stop for the crane and then later for the meet to give me a chance to get on and off in isolated areas, if I hadn't remembered to get fresh scanner batteries the night before so I could have my "ears on" for the magic message, if the engineer hadn't probably been tops in seniority in his district and a system engineer trainer to boot!
I have waited almost three years to tell this story outside of a small circle of railfan friends. I haven't used the crew's names, because I later learned they didn't give me their real ones. I tried not to give place details about my experience, because I don't want anyone trying to figure out where it happened. This particular railroad has a lot of friendly crews I've come to know over the last ten years, and I certainly don't want to put anyone's job in jeopardy by retelling this story in a public forum. In fact, there may be those of you reading this who won't believe it really happened. That's okay, because I know what happened to me that magic day, and--at least until I get the chance to run a steam locomotive, the only unrealized railfan experience still ahead for me--I know I'll never forget it.
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