A few weeks ago our friends over at TrainJotting were looking for nominations for the crappiest train station in the tri-state area. Though his home station of Hawthorne won the vote (likely because many of his readers are also from there), several of the nominations were for Waterbury Branch stations. I nominated Waterbury, due to the frequent stories of theft. Someone else nominated Ansonia, which is probably one of the most ghetto looking stations in all of Metro-North. In fact, quite a bit of the Waterbury Branch is pretty ghetto. It is the only part of Metro-North where there is no extra fee to purchase tickets on the train – solely because there are no ticket machines in which to purchase them. The reason for this has been debated on the internet – some people claim that it is in fact due to the rampant thefts. The official statement is that there is not enough ridership to warrant the installation of ticket machines.

Although Derby/Shelton is not quite as bad as say, Ansonia, it isn’t the most spectacular Metro-North station. One of the only things going for it is the original brick station, though it isn’t being used by the railroad. In fact, it is used as a Department of Motor Vehicles photo licensing center… which in some ways is almost amusing. Not only have cars overtaken trains as the preferred method of transportation in the United States, they are infiltrating the former train stations! I suppose it is a better outcome than the station being demolished, though.

What is it that makes Derby/Shelton a little bit ghetto? Maybe the it is the bus-style shelter, or the wooden low-level platform. No, you know what it is? It is the fact that the train departure schedule is taped to a trash bin. Every other station has some sort of message board or wall on which to place information. But at Derby/Shelton you can save time by figuring out what train you’ll be leaving on, all while throwing out your used coffee cup!

Despite being close to the highway, Derby/Shelton feels a little bit remote – at least in terms of stations. Stratford, the next station to the south is a little over 10 miles away. Grand Central is almost 70 miles away – the Waterbury Branch has the honor of having some of the most distant stations from the terminal. There is just a single track, and a long wooden box serves as a low-level platform.

Yesterday afternoon I returned home from Florida… and I have to ask, what the hell happened while I was away? There were suicides, more suicides, and even a derailment. I wasn’t particularly vocal about my departure here on the blog, I was being rather tight-lipped about heading down to Florida for the final space shuttle launch. As you may recall, I mentioned my plans to see the second-to-last launch as part of #NASATweetup. Scheduling issues and launch scrubs foiled those plans, however, and I never saw that launch. A month or so later I was beyond lucky to get chosen for the final launch tweetup, but for superstitious reasons I didn’t want to really mention it. Quite frankly, I was afraid I’d jinx it and again miss the launch.

Unless you have been living under a rock, you probably have heard that the final space shuttle did in fact launch – and I was in attendance. I was interviewed by Westchester’s News 12 there, and a particular conductor I know claims that he saw it on TV in Grand Central, though his first assumption was that I had been arrested for taking photographs of something. I assure you, any photographs I did take, were completely legal and will be posted at some point. I think I still need to sort out not only the photos, but my thoughts after such a huge event.

In the meantime, I hope that you all don’t think I am neglecting you… I do try to post at least twice per week, which I failed to do last week. Although I don’t really have much to say this evening, I had to let you all know that I found the most awesome ticket punch…

Be sure to look for little “kitties” on your tickets and seatchecks from now on!

When I started this blog, the majority of it was observations about people I saw on the train, or while waiting for trains. I haven’t really done a post about my observations lately, but for the most part the majority of things I see are remembered as short tidbits, and nothing worth writing an entire post about. If I actually kept a diary, tidbits like these would likely be found inside… just quick thoughts about the things and people that surround me on a day-to-day basis. As I don’t really have anything to post today, I figured I’d leave you with a collection of some of my recent thoughts while riding the train. But rest assured, I am currently working on a pretty big project for the site, and when I (hopefully) debut it next week, I think you’ll all be pretty pleased.

People leave things on the train all the time. I was just thinking the other day, if someone was about to forget their phone, or bag, or wallet, I’d ask them if it were theirs, so they don’t get off the train without it. But then I realized what a terrible person I am – if you were about to forget a bag from Junior’s the only thing I’d say is, “that’s mine!” I don’t want your wallet, or your laptop. Just give me your cheesecake.

Sometimes the guy in the ticket booth at White Plains gets rather excited when he announces trains. Once I heard, “Now on trrrrack one is the train going to… nowhere. Never mind. This train only goes to North White Plains,” and, “Nooooooooowww on trrrrrack one is the 5:59 local trrrrrain to Southeast, making all local stops. Yes, this train will be making all the stops you know and love. Trrrrrrrack one.” I haven’t heard him lately, though. I wonder where he is.

When my train passes Mount Kisco in the evening, there is usually this dark-haired woman named Christine on the platform. I know nothing other than her name, and that she likes to laugh. Sometimes when the doors open I poke my head out and say, “Hello Christine.” I gave her my little card that has this website’s address on it once. Maybe she’s reading this right now. Hello, Christine!

Sometimes I see this girl on the platform when I wait for the train in the morning. She looks like she is in her early twenties, and has quite the assortment of Nike shoes and athletic attire. The only time we ever spoke was when she was drinking a bottle of soda and dropped the cap. We both watched, it was like slow motion, the cap hit the platform and rolled precariously close to the edge. I think I said to her, “Wow. I really thought that was going to fall!”

I have an overactive imagination. I also have a bad habit when I observe people, determining who they seem to resemble physically, and calling them that in my mind thence forward. Regular riders of my morning train are an older Sarah Palin, and an Amy Winehouse – minus the drugs.

I like to read books on the train, and I try to read a book per week. After calculating it out, I really only spend about six hours per week on the train – three of which are reading, and three of which are bullshitting with other people. It isn’t a lot of time when I compare it to hours using the computer. I probably am using the computer for ten hours, if not more, each week day. This is probably why I gained twenty pounds after graduating college.

Usually the train I take in the evening uses M3 equipment… though very rarely we have an M7 instead. The M7′s have that nice seat adjacent to the conductor’s cab, it is dark and quiet and away from all the other people. When I got on the train there was an old man sitting there. The next stop the train was going to be making was a short platform, so the conductor told people in the back of the train to move forward. A woman went to do just that, and the old man sitting by the door there just flipped out. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK THAT SIGN IS THERE FOR?!?!” he shouted, while pointing at the sign to not cross through the cars while the train is in motion. The woman looked so afraid, like she was almost going to wet herself. The old man was relentless. Later on, after the old man had gotten off, I asked the conductor if he knew who he was. He told me the man worked for Metro North’s safety department. Too bad that detail was conveniently left out of his diatribe. I always wondered if she complained about the crazy man on her train…


In reality this cat’s name is Henry, and he is awesome

Walking to the train station the other day, this strange animal ran out in front of me. It took me a few moments to realize it was a cat, and not an ordinary cat, a three-legged cat. If I had a three-legged cat, I’d name him Tripod.

Sometimes the bus driver really freaks me out. One of these days he’s really going to flip the bus over. A few days ago he accidentally hit the curb so hard I was slammed into the window… and I have a several inch long bruise on my arm to prove it.

I follow @OWNEYtheDOG on twitter. For those who don’t know, Owney was a real dog that used to ride on mail trains back in the day. Owney was apparently murdered – shot dead, and was later brought to the taxidermist. He’s on display at the Post Office Museum in Washington DC. The thing that freaks me out is that whoever does the twitter posts as if they were that stuffed dog. This disturbs me. Even taxidermied dogs are on twitter! Next thing you know, my mother will be on there.

I’m used to people telling me that they like my hat. It does freak me out when they sneak up behind me and attempt to whisper it in my ear. Most especially if they reek of alcohol. However, the thing I really don’t get is why people during the summer ask me where my hat is. I may like hats, but I’m not an idiot.

My grandmother is wonderful. I think it takes only a little sip of alcohol to make her tipsy. She tells lots of good stories then… stories about the original Penn Station, of taking the train all over the country in the ’40s, being afraid her train was going to fall off the Horseshoe Curve… How she’d take the kids on the train and buy the cheaper child ticket, even though some of the kids were too old. Of course my one uncle would admit such to the conductor… the other just had such a bad temper, my grandmother told me she’d buy him rubber dog toys to take for the ride, he’d break all the regular toys.

When I get a text message, my phone makes the sound the M7 trains make. It baffles people at work meetings. It really baffles them when I’m riding my usual train – an M3. But then someone decides they’ll text me five times in quick succession. Then I just look like an idiot.

Everyone always wants to blame Metro-North, but sometimes it is the passengers’ fault that the train is late… like the time there was a man standing in the doorway that refused to move. Despite the conductor yelling at him, he still stalled the train.

I heard some news about banning smoking on the platform. I like this idea. I’d rather not be subjected to your disgusting and headache-inducing habit. Inevitably someone complains about the thought and says, “Remember when they even had smoking cars?” You know what I remember? The tar-black ceiling of Grand Central when I was a kid… all from cigarette smoke. Ah, yes. Nostalgia.

If I had to pick the station with the most obnoxious people, I’d likely pick White Plains. They are like animals there. They’ll push anybody over to board that train, even a little old lady with a cane. Because it is such a populated station, there are always going to be people running for the train and not quite making it. If the conductor kept the doors open for all of them, the train would never leave. When this happens the person usually shouts profanities at the conductor, and probably writes an angry note to Metro-North (I don’t think I could be a conductor, I don’t have thick enough skin). The most amusing part is that White Plains has the most trains of any station on the Harlem Line. In rush hour, there is another train in just five minutes. Is it really worth all that anger?

It is amusing to me how many people still attempt the old trick of hiding in the bathroom to evade paying the fare. Conductors should have mops available on all trains to give to these people. If they aren’t going to pay, and they are going to be in the bathroom, they might as well clean the damn thing while they are there.

In my previous post, I gave a little bit of preliminary information about the Premier Classe train journey that I took in South Africa. Before I continue, perhaps I should share with you a few facts about the infrastructure of the rails in South Africa – things I wasn’t aware of when I made my journey.

• The Passenger Rail Association of South Africa (PRASA) operates both the Metrorail (commuter rail in urban areas) and Shosholoza Meyl (regional and long distance trains). The Premier Classe falls under the Shosholoza Meyl.

• 40% of PRASA’s fleet of trains are more than 37 years old. One third of the fleet is “constantly out of service, leading to poor performance, safety and reliability.”

• 86% of PRASA’s signaling installations have exceeded their design life.

• For freight service, “derailments have led to costly delays… The average cancellation of trains amounts to 10 trains per day due to accidents and other security incidents such as theft of copper cables.”

To make a long story short, the infrastructure and equipment being used by the railroads in South Africa is not that great. Much of the equipment is outdated, and additional difficulties are caused by theft, or as I was told, even by people leaving junk on the tracks. The eight hour delay my journey suffered is probably closer to the norm than a random fluke. So, provided you are prepared for some obnoxious delays (don’t plan anything for the day you are supposed to arrive – I missed my tour of Johannesburg!), I probably would recommend the Premier Classe train to any railfans that may be pondering a visit to South Africa. There is absolutely no way a plane ride can compete with the amazing views you will see from the train. And you will see it all – the gorgeous mountains surrounding Cape Town, farms as far as the eye can see, wineries, and even more less savory things.

Cape Town has the dubious honor of having quite a financial disparity between its citizens – from the sprawling mansions along the beach to the shack settlements on the outskirts of the city. And from the train, you will see various shack settlements – homes constructed from whatever scraps of corrugated metal could be found, with the roof scraps held in place by an array of heavy rocks or bricks. Perhaps you’ll even see some of the settlement’s younger denizens pelting the train with rocks. In fact, some of the things I saw are even difficult to put into words – folks using the tracks as a toilet, billowing black smoke from burning tires, and even the aforementioned children running around with flaming bits of wood in hand, with various patches of grass aflame (in case you think I was exaggerating, I do have one photo of the burning grass). Even the destroyed remnants of a freight train derailment littered the sides of the tracks at one point.

If my goal was to sell you on the Premier Classe, I think thus far I’ve failed… in fact, you probably are scared for your life. Did I mention gorgeous mountains? Beautiful sunsets? And hell, if your train is as late as mine was, you might even see TWO sunsets! Your train, zooming through the late afternoon sun, may race with the wild ostriches right outside your window. And of course you can glimpse all of this while stuffing your face in the dining car. Four-course lunches and five-course dinners are the standard on the Premier Classe. And if there is one thing that South Africans know how to do well, it is to feed the tourists. If the food on the train sucked, I’d probably be pretty pissed off. Need I say again, eight hours late? I was less than thrilled. But how can one stay mad when being fed tasty chocolate cake – with ice cream to boot?

A shitty photo of what tasty cake may look like

Well, that pretty much concludes my set of photos from the Premier Classe. Perhaps next week I’ll post some photos of the train that I didn’t ride in Zimbabwe. And if you don’t mind the off-topic, some lions and elephants and such.

Back in the days of Imperialism, where Africa was carved up and occupied by various European nations, there was a man by the name of Cecil Rhodes that had a dream. And it wasn’t exactly tricking the world into thinking diamonds are incredibly rare (though as the founder of the diamond company DeBeers – he had a significant role in that), it was the dream of a railway stretching across Africa. Rhodes’ dream – the Cape to Cairo Railway – was never realized. Though portions of it were built, the British colonies never achieved a direct line from Egypt down to South Africa. Today, some tourist agencies offer Cape to Cairo rail tours, taking the train on the pieces of rail that do exist, and either flying or busing over the parts that don’t. I think this is what first captured my interest about Africa, and I decided I would love to go ride the trains there. The only difficulty was that these train tours (specifically Cape to Cairo) were extravagantly expensive – some of them costing more than my yearly salary. Sticking to one country, South Africa, was probably my best bet. Enter the Premier Classe train.

The rail route between Cape Town and Johannesburg for tourists is serviced by a few different companies. Both the Blue Train and Rovos Rail are quite fancy – and with their one way ticket price of around two to three-thousand dollars, well out of my price range. The Premier Classe, however, is still a bit fancy with with five-course dinners and such, but has a ticket price of around three-hundred dollars. I pretty much booked my trip entirely around the Premier Classe train, which has two departures weekly, and it was supposed to be the highlight of my trip. Instead, it was a massive frustration.

I have a bit of difficulty in retelling my experiences on the Premier Classe. Did I enjoy it? Was the food good? How were the accomodations? Well yes, the train was enjoyable, the food was amazing, and the accommodations were pretty good. If the train wasn’t about eight hours late, it probably would have been a spectacular journey! I never got to see anything in Johannesburg (beyond the airport) – as the train was so late we missed our tour. I thought I’d at least be able to walk around the train station and take photos while waiting for the train, but I was told that first of all, it probably wasn’t safe, and secondly, my camera would be quickly confiscated by the rifle-carrying police officers roaming around the station.

In Cape Town began the game of people attempting to determine how my friend and I were related. Though friends and coworkers were never suggested, there were a few people that thought we were either sisters, lesbians, or even mother and daughter. In the case of the Premier Classe, they just thought my friend was actually a guy.

Cape Town station wasn’t exceptionally beautiful – probably a bit too sterile white for my taste – but there were some gorgeous tile mosaics on the floor and walls. The outside had a few mosaics of early trains, horsecars and omnibuses, one of which I did manage to get a photo of. Since I have so many photos of the journey, I’ll be doing two parts. This first part appropriately shows the first part of the journey from Cape Town.

Every once and a while I get an email from some person looking for high resolution copies of what train tickets look like. I wonder if people are really that stupid… but no, by now this doesn’t really surprise me. What legitimate use would people want this for? There aren’t any. These people are looking to make forgeries. While I generally just delete emails like this outright, there are the occasional times where I want to send them photographs of really old tickets. If they believed me, and attempted a forgery, it would probably give a conductor a good laugh. I mean, what would you say if some guy tried to use this on the train today?

 
And that is actually not that old

Ignoring the dimwit forgers, it is actually quite interesting to look at the evolution of tickets, just as it is to look at old timetables. I will admit that I have quite a few more timetables than I do tickets, cash fares and the like. But all the same, they are fun to look at. Below are some of the ones that I have and have scanned. Do you have any old Harlem Division tickets? I would love to see them… please email me! Then we can have a part two, because I’m apparently in love with multi-part posts.

There are lots of different things that people do to pass the time while riding on the train. Some people eat bananas and yogurt for breakfast. Other people have their daily ritual of reading the newspaper. People who want everyone else on the train to know how cool they are pull out their iPads and perform mindless tasks. There are the sleepers, the talkers, the readers, and the folks that don’t understand that the concept that earphones are for you, and you alone to listen along.

Me, I like to read. One of my goals in life was always to read 50 books in a year. In school there was never enough time for me to read that much, but while riding the train every day, it is a quite achievable goal. Sometimes when I get bored of reading I’ll listen to music, and if I’m tired, sleep. Occasionally I bring my netbook, and most rarely do I draw. I did sew once, and that certainly got me some odd looks from folks… well, mostly because I was sewing 8-fingered gloves for my 8-fingered mother.

Even more rarely then the aforementioned activities, I make seat check animals. It started quite a while ago… kids were on vacation from school, and a few of them wound up on the train with their parents, heading for the city. A conductor I know started making seat check animals for the kids when he had a free moment. I watched and was then like, hey, give me some of those seat checks. He says I cheat though, since I use scissors and glue, which is probably true. But it is one more thing to pass the time… Anyways, here is a little collection of silly things I made, all from recycled Metro-North seat checks and tickets (there are even some old tickets in there – a retiring conductor found them while cleaning out his locker and gave them to me). I call it my Metro-North Zoo.

This Tuesday we visit yet another Westchester Harlem Line station: Tuckahoe. Tuckahoe is interesting in both an artistic sense, as well as historical. It is one of the few stations on the line that has an Arts For Transit piece, and the old station building still survives. It may not be used for selling tickets any longer, but it is beautifully restored and is occupied by Starbucks.

Tuckahoe itself is village located in the town of Eastchester, in the southern portion of Westchester county. Although the railroad played a significant part in the growth of Tuckahoe and all of the areas located along the line in Westchester (and further north), it was the discovery of marble in the early 1800′s that led significantly to the growth of the village. (The village was officially incorporated in 1902, the marble quarries were shut down in the 1930′s). Tuckahoe marble was used in many high-profile buildings, including St. Patrick’s Cathedral in the city, and the Washington Monument in Washington DC.

Tuckahoe’s station building was erected in 1901 and was designed by architects Reed & Stem. Reed & Stem worked on several stations on the Harlem Line, including Chappaqua, Scarsdale, and most notably, Grand Central. An Arts for Transit piece called The Finder / The Seekers by Arthur Gonzales is present at the station. Companion pieces also by Gonzales are at Crestwood and Fleetwood.

The station is located in a commercial area, and there are a few shops and restaurants that surround it. On Sundays during the summer the station’s parking lot also plays host to a farmers market (which you can see in the first photo).

As a bonus, here are some older photos of Tuckahoe in 1988. The station building looks a bit run down, and although I’m not the biggest fan of Starbucks, I must admit it looks much nicer today.

To some of you this may be new, to some perhaps common knowledge, but I must admit, I get asked these questions quite frequently and figured I’d answer publicly. Can you use your Metro-North ticket on other lines? Is there a ticket that will allow you to ride all of the Metro-North system? I was asked these questions most recently by a coworker (Eric this is for you!). I didn’t think that you could, but I wasn’t 100% sure, and I told him I would get the official word. As for a ticket that would let you ride any Metro-North train, well I didn’t think it existed – but yes, it does in fact exist.

Below are two official “Conversion charts” for Metro-North tickets. Because the system spans the two states of New York and Connecticut, there are some catches. Any ticket on the Harlem and Hudson lines, as they are both in New York, are completely interchangeable. If the two zones that you leaving and arriving from correspond with the zones on the alternate line, the ticket is valid. My ticket from Goldens Bridge to Grand Central on the Harlem Line would also be valid from Peekskill to Grand Central on the Hudson Line, as both Goldens Bridge and Peekskill are in Zone 6. However, because parts of the New Haven line are in Connecticut, taxes and fees are paid to/by the state for each ticket. If you buy a single ride on the Harlem Line and try to use it on the New Haven, you circumvented that. Thus tickets (with the exception of weeklys and monthlys) purchased on the Harlem and Hudson Lines are not valid on the New Haven. Similarly, ones bought on the New Haven can’t be used for the Harlem and Hudson.

But, here’s the catch: It is permitted to use your monthly or weekly from the Harlem and Hudson on the New Haven line, and the other way around. So if you were to purchase a weekly ticket from Wassaic to Grand Central (the furthest fare zones apart) you could effectively ride any train to any location on all three lines for the whole week. Or in the case of the monthly, for an entire month.