Well, Saturday was another perfect
day – no foam, rock-steady pressure, and enough time to take water and
schmooze with people on the platform a bit before each trip. Plus, it
was a great day for firing, as were the last couple; high was 83 and it
was breezy.

However, once again, it’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m already wide awake.

At least I’ve got my first official student today. (Of course, that probably has something to do with it…)

Now I lay me down not to sleep
I just get tangled in the sheets
I swim in sweat three inches deep
I just lay back and claim defeat

Chapter read and lesson learned
I turned the lights off while she burned
So while she’s three hundred degrees
I throw the sheets off and I freeze

My lids down, I count sheep, I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is that I won’t sleep, I count down, I look around

Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War
Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War

My hands are locked up tight in fists
My mind is racing, filled with lists
Of things to do and things I’ve done
Another sleepless night’s begun

My lids down, I count sheep, I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is that I won’t sleep, I count down, I look around

Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War
Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War

There’s so much joy in life, so many pleasures all around
The pleasures of insomnia are ones I’ve never found
With all life has to offer, there’s so much to be enjoyed
The pleasures of insomnia are ones I can’t avoid

My lids down, I count sheep, I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is that I won’t sleep, I count down, I look around

Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War
Who needs sleep? Well, you’re never gonna get it
Who needs sleep? Tell me what’s that for
Who needs sleep? Be happy with what you’re gettin’
There’s a guy who’s been awake since the Second World War

Well, here it is, 5:30 in the morning and I’ve been up
for an hour already. The Fun Fact is, I’m due to fire seven trips today
and then do a dinner train in the evening. Who’s stopping for a really
big cup of coffee on his way to work?

Yeah, with circumstances like that, I ain’t going to work without a few drops of blood in my caffeine stream.

Today’s going to be the big test – those seven trips I’m firing? The
big man himself is the engineer today. I’ve found a firing pattern that
works well with Bill and with a crusty old engineer who’s pretty hard
to please – so today I get to see if it works with Big Boss Man.
Somehow I’m doubtful, though. (Note to self: Keep an eye on him, he’ll
be testing you by running the engine differently each trip and using
steam faster than you can make it.)

Oh man, but if that engine foams again today…heads will roll, my friends, heads will roll.

Anyone who’s unfamiliar with steam power – boiler foaming happens when
there’s a whole lot of solid crud collected at the top of the water
level. One can eliminate this problem by blowing most of the steam out
of the boiler and lowering the water level first thing in the morning,
but there is the occasion when, for whatever reason, it doesn’t get
blown down far enough. You open up your throttle and voila! The engine
starts pretending that it’s Old Faithful. Foaming boiler = sucking all
the water out = running the injector constantly all the way up the hill
= Chris shoveling his ass off non-stop trying to keep the pressure up.
Which is impossible anyway when all he’s got to shovel is worthless
dirt wishing it was coal, which 1) doesn’t generate any heat
whatsoever, 2) forms industrial-sized clinkers along the sides of the
firebox, and 3) is largely composed of ash that obstructs any air from
getting through the fire. So not only do you lose time because you’re
losing pressure, you lose even more time when you have to run back to
the ash pit three and four times during the day. That sound like fun to
you? I thought so.

But after having two near-perfect days earlier this week, all I can say
is que sera, sera. Sun’s coming up – might as well grab a bite to eat.
I’ve a sinking feeling that this’ll be an even longer day than
necessary.

And so my love for GE locomotives has naught but mushroomed in the last three days. (Yeah, right, Ronald…)

The other day I ran the 531 up the full length of the line pending its
92-day inspection; thankfully that butt-ugly engine isn’t leaking oil
as badly as it was a few months ago, and it’s responding in Run 2
again, but still. When you go over a grade crossing in the 531, in all
its GE-designed, Union Pacific-painted ugliness, you can’t help but
wonder if the motorists are thinking, “What the hell is he doing
running THAT piece of shit??” I wouldn’t put it in quite those terms,
though, if only we’d just knuckle down and repaint the damn
thing…but, feh. Small wonder that we keep it at the south end of the
line, out of the tourists’ sight.

Got to the north end of the line, collected the 7087 and a hopper car,
and got set up for a stone train on Wednesday. Sat around twiddling my
thumbs for nightmarish amounts of time in between truckloads as always,
despite a passionate plea in my IM away message for people to “CALL THE
FREAKING CELL!!!” En route to the interchange, my boss and I couldn’t
help noticing that the engine was taking an awful lot of power for
eight cars…

…and today we found the answer.

We did a little switcheroo in the morning and then headed northward ho
to top off 7087′s radiator (another symbol of my sarcastic fondness for
GE engines). We were only a few miles up the line – hence I was
sweatslicking the independent brake even more than the throttle – when
my boss, always on the tack, suddenly hollered at me to STOP STOP STOP!

No wonder we were pulling so hard yesterday – we’d been passing over a busted rail.

God only knows what happened, but one of those loaded hoppers somehow
spread the gauge, derailed, and then rerailed itself as we passed over
a handy switch (shearing off a half-dozen spikes, skewering the rail
joint, and breaking the head of the rail in the process). That switch
is a nightmare to begin with, but as of yesterday, it has effectively
cut off the south end of the railroad from the rest of it, until we
muster a repair crew at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

I haven’t had that much fun since I rode lead on the ballast car for about six miles.

I’ve been having nightmares about firing for the past week.

No, seriously, I have. Guess that’s just a tad indicative of how much
I’ve been doing it for over a month now…oy. (Not to mention muscle
soreness that lasts for about two days.)

However, firing is not always as horrid as all that. In fact, earlier
this week, Bill and I conducted a little experiment – left town with a
slightly higher water level than usual. Now mind you, I had a
thoroughly miserable time working with Bill in the shop and on the
engine for a number of months. But he’s lightened up a great deal since
I got qualified, and when we got to our turnaround point the other day,
with 165 PSI in the boiler (which is damn good) and the water sight
glasses half full (which is ideal), he took a look in the firebox to
see what the coal bed looked like. Then he straightened up, shook my
hand and said, “That’s how that’s done, my friend! THAT is how that’s done!!”

I couldn’t believe my ears. And we had no trouble for the rest of the
day. I fired for Bill again today, and even though a couple of trips
were a little bit hairy pressure-wise by the time we crested the hill,
we barely broke a sweat. (That, of course, may be due to the fact that
the fire was evaporating all my sweat before it even escaped my pores.
)

Well, at last I have found a firing pattern that works.
Tomorrow I’m firing for a good buddy of mine who works for the Reading
& Northern, so the litmus test cometh – see if the same pattern
will work under a different engineer. And who knows? Maybe the
nightmares will subside.

I tell ya, though, what a blast it is to get interrogated by zealous railfans when you’re trying to get some work done…