The Power Control Center oversees the operation of over 218 substations dispersed throughout the city. Information from these locations is relayed to the panels, giving operators the ability to see what’s going on and to control the subway’s power from a centralized location. For unexpected changes or ongoing situations, such as police presence, an array of magnets can be placed upon the board to keep everyone apprised (if there was a special cat-faced magnet for de-energizing the tracks for a feline rescue, I did not see it). Hidden within the collection of tracks and magnets are other tidbits, including the message, “in the I.R.T. failure is not an option”—assumedly a more down-to-Earth play on the fictional words uttered by the heroic operators employed in another green hued control room.

If you get a retro nuclear control room vibe from the seafoam green panels, that’s not surprising. Many control rooms—from the bridge of the Queen Mary 2 to the nerve centers of nuclear power plants around the globe—use a similar color scheme. Earlier subway control panels used white lines atop a black background, similar to the model boards found in old towers, but were upgraded to these green colored panels in the early ’80s. Design tastes and prevailing science often shift, and at the time such installations were considered optimal for readability, preventing eye fatigue and reducing glare. For nuclear applications dark colored backgrounds on Human-System Interfaces remain inadvisable (though a light gray seems to be the popular choice over dated seafoam today), but many railroads still use negative polarity color schemes in their control centers, and such “dark mode” schemes are popular with consumers. Ultimately, the best solution for readability depends heavily on ambient light, which is probably why Amtrak’s CETC dispatchers have long used black background interfaces in dark rooms.

In the collection of photos I snapped while at the Power Control Center you’ll note that Loby makes a reappearance, in red and looking very serious, along with a much happier photo of Eric, who works in the PCC. Sometimes it is pretty easy to tell when someone really enjoys their work, and Eric says that he is very proud of the job done by all at the Power Control Center. With over 665 miles of mainline track and 472 stations, the employees of the PCC certainly bear a large responsibility to keep the lights shining and the trains running on a subway system that uses more power than the state of Vermont.

On a whim, I sent Mr. Lobenstein a note with a few questions regarding rotary converters related to the article I was writing. Although I had a pretty good idea that throwing a bucket of sand into one would hardly paralyze an entire transit system, my unsated curiosity insisted on knowing what might actually happen. In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting an answer. Yet the next morning Loby, as he is known among friends, surprised me with a response. Through various email correspondences he humored my eccentric inquisitiveness, though there were times I was certain his mind was torn between whether I was either some garden variety terrorist, a time traveler plotting nefarious deeds for the past, or a third rate fiction writer penning a dreadful period piece where the saboteur antagonist would at least be historically accurate.

Loby’s wisdom on the subject of rotary converters comes from a combination of both practical application and historical knowledge. He started his 40 year long career with the subways at the Essex substation in Brooklyn. While working he uncovered a treasure trove of artifacts that piqued his interest and inspired his secondary career—Power Historian. Not only were there stories, blueprints, and photographs to collect at Essex, there were also rotary converters. While hardly feasible to take one of these imposing machines home after a long day of work, Loby may have done the next best thing—making sure a few of them are preserved and restored for the benefit of future generations.

Perhaps it is just my delusions of grandeur speaking, but I feel like I understand the desire to preserve the past and the calling to be a torch bearer of sorts, carrying the knowledge of yesterday forward. There is a certain exhilaration in rediscovering a bit of long lost lore, yet I can only imagine the immense sense of pride that would derive from such a noteworthy undertaking as saving a rotary converter or dynamo and restoring it to working condition.

After using his insight to publish the aforementioned article about rotary converters and saboteurs, Loby was generous enough to offer me the chance to see a real one up close and personal—or as close as you’d want to be to one without injuring yourself. I met Loby one chilly afternoon at old Substation #13 to get a glimpse of Rotary #1, which operated from 1904 to 1999. Manufactured by Westinghouse, #1 was a 1,500kW unit that first powered the third rail for the IRT, the city’s original underground subway, and later its successors. While many rotaries converted AC to DC power inside nearly 75 substations scattered throughout the city for the subways, the obsolete machines were gradually being replaced with more modern equipment. But thanks to the efforts of various people who felt preservation imperative—including Loby—not all of these dignified dinosaurs were destined for the scrap heap. #1 proved an optimal candidate for restoration as its control circuits were basically intact, and the rest of the unit was largely in good condition—a testament to the stately old machine’s fortitude, and to the decades of skilled maintainers that Loby likened to magicians.

Today Substation #13 provides two different glimpses into the power history of New York City’s subways—the magnificent rotaries of yesteryear, and the decidedly less spellbinding solid state rectifiers that have replaced them. Most notably, #1 can be fired up as a DC motor, spinning at 250 revolutions per minute and enthralling visitors such as myself. I endeavored to capture the mechanical beauty of the rotary and some of the panels, dials, levers, and switches found within Substation #13, which is truly a magical place—I hope I’ve done them justice.

Later on I learned that Loby appeared on the first season of Mythbusters—and yes, it was the episode where they tested whether one would be electrocuted if they were to relieve themself on the third rail. I suppose my inquiries were not quite the craziest he’s ever heard after all…

Although it survived longer than we thought it would, the board was unfortunately replaced last week. Here is a short timelapse to remember it by…

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And #217 said, “I don’t think I can…”

If you’re interested in checking out the area, across the river Inwood Hill Park offers great views of Metro-North’s Marble Hill and Spuyten Duyvil stations, as well as Amtrak’s swing bridge. Not necessarily railroad related, but of noteworthy mention is the large painted “C” that is kind of hard to miss. The C stands for Columbia – and was first painted on the rock in the early 1950s, with the approval of the New York Central Railroad. Coxswain of the heavyweight crew team, Robert Prendergast, came up with the idea and approached the railroad for permission. After it was granted, the C was painted about 60 feet by 60 feet square, and has been maintained ever since.

One of my personal favorite spots is the swing bridge used by Amtrak, after it splits from Metro-North’s Hudson Line. As most of you are already aware, for many years Amtrak trains ran from Grand Central Terminal. After some significant work in the late ’80s, including fixing up this old swing bridge, Amtrak was able to finally consolidate its New York City operations in Penn Station and vacate Grand Central. I can’t say that I know first hand, but I’ve heard plenty of stories about raucous parties that happened on this bridge while it was out of service. Originally constructed in 1900, the bridge was damaged and taken out of service in 1982, and was reopened in 1991.

Anyway, here is a collection of some of the photos from my outing to the park, as well as some videos. I’m going to try uploading videos to YouTube again… so if you’re not following the site on there, go and subscribe!

  
 
   
  
 
  
   
  
 
 

For the folks subscribed to the site via email, you must visit the site to view video features.

For the folks subscribed to the site via email, you must visit the site to view video features.

One of the reasons I’m dying for warmer weather is because I happened to purchase a DJI Phantom. The first (admittedly horrible) clip above is from the Phantom… actually it is the very first time I ever flew it for capturing video. I’m sure future attempts will be a little bit smoother, after I’ve had some more practice.

 
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
   

Photos around Anchorage and on the Palmer Branch

The Anchorage Airport branch likely sees more passengers than the Palmer Branch, but it is still not a regularly scheduled route on the railroad. Cruise ship lines with chartered trains are usually the only patrons of the branch, leaving the depot there fairly quiet. If you have money to burn, the depot is available to rent, however.

  

Photos on the Airport Branch. With its high-level platforms, this is the most “Metro-North looking” part of the entire Alaska Railroad.

Thanks to my camera, you can ride both branches from your own home. Starting off at the Anchorage International Airport, we pass the Anchorage depot before heading onto the Palmer Branch, finishing just beyond the South Palmer / fairgrounds station.

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Our second video for the day shows another hidden part of the Alaska Railroad, one that passengers never see. Reversing out of Anchorage’s depot, we head into Anchorage yard just after sunrise.

Next week we’ll check out yet another part of the railroad never seen by passengers, as we go behind the scenes and take a shop tour.

 
  
   
 
  
  
  
   
 
  
   
  
 
  
   

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Completed in 1943, the Whittier Branch connected the Alaska Railroad’s main line to the ice-free port of Whittier. Though a branch to Whittier had been considered for years prior, the project only came to fruition because of World War II. Whittier was not only a shortcut compared to the railroad’s other ice-free port in Seward, reduced exposure of ships to Japanese submarines, and was harder to bomb by plane because of the frequent bad weather.

 
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
   
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
On the route of the Glacier Discovery – visiting Whittier and the flag stop at Spencer Glacier.

The most notable characteristic of the branch are the two tunnels used to pass through the mountains surrounding Whittier. A one mile tunnel was needed to get through Begich Peak, and a 2.5 mile tunnel passed through Maynard Mountain. While the shorter tunnel exists much as it did when it was first constructed, the longer tunnel has had extensive work to allow cars and trucks to pass through.

Col. Benjamin B. Talley, commander of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in Alaska (second from right) and Lt. Gen. Simon B. Buckner Jr., commander of the Alaska Defense Command (third from right), enter the Whittier Tunnel during a holing through ceremony Nov. 20, 1942. Photo from the US Army Corps of Engineers.

Gone are the days where Whittier was just a military port – today it is an attractive ingress to Alaska used by boaters, freight ships and cruise liners. But up until the late 1990s Whittier was not accessible by car. The Alaska Railroad operated a shuttle service where cars could be transported by flatcar to Whittier, but it was not the most ideal option. While constructing a new highway over the mountain, or constructing another tunnel were all considered, the most cost effective solution was to modify the Alaska Railroad’s existing tunnel to allow road vehicles to traverse the mountain into Whittier.

Construction work to convert the railroad tunnel into a dual rail/highway tunnel. Photos from Hatch Mott McDonald.

Completed in June of 2000, the modified tunnel is the longest dual purpose rail and highway tunnel in North America. Built to endure the harsh Alaskan climate, the tunnel is able to operate in temperatures down to -40°F, winds of 150 MPH, and the portal buildings are able to withstand avalanches. Trains are still an important part of the traffic using the tunnel, and it employs a computerized traffic control system to regulate both vehicular and rail traffic in both directions. Besides special cruise ship trains, Alaska Railroad passenger service along the branch and through the tunnels is on the Glacier Discovery train. Freight remains an integral part of the railroad’s operations on the branch, and it is from Whittier that the railroad is connected by barge to Seattle and Prince Rupert, British Columbia.

While plenty of people on YouTube have recorded the journey through the tunnel by car, we get to take a unique journey through by train, thanks to my camera mounted on the front of one of the Alaska Railroad’s locomotives. In typical Whittier fashion, it is raining, but you get the general experience of leaving the port of Whittier, waiting for access into the tunnel, and traversing both tunnels on the branch. Enjoy!

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Postcard from Alaskaland, and token from the centennial exposition.

Pioneer Park, where the museum is located, is a bit of an interesting spot in Fairbanks. The grounds were first established in 1967 for the Alaska 67 Centennial Exposition, which celebrated the centennial of the Alaska Purchase. Later the 44-acre historical park became known as Alaskaland. It was eventually renamed Pioneer Park, lest you think it some type of amusement park with roller coasters (Alaska has none, unless you count the hill named roller coaster on the Dalton Highway).

1981 brochure for Alaskaland, including an aerial view of the railroad tracks encircling the park.

So before we depart Fairbanks on a journey down the Alaska Railroad, let’s take a quick minute to check out Pioneer Park and the Tanana Valley Railroad Museum, and a short video from my GoPro camera which was mounted on their historical locomotive.

 
  
   
  
  
 
  
  
 

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Photos from the railroad route to Seward.

The Coastal Classic is likely one of the Alaska Railroad’s most scenic routes, traveling southward from Anchorage to the port of Seward, and passing glaciers and beautiful vistas. The line follows several horseshoe curves to gain altitude, and passes through several mountains by tunnel. Following the route of the Coastal Classic, our NHRS charter train took a leisurely ride through this gorgeous section of Alaska. Our video starts a little over fifty miles from Seward, and condenses two hours and twenty minutes of the ride into ten minutes. The video concludes over a bit of rare passenger mileage – bypassing Seward’s passenger station and heading into the Seward rail yard and docks.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing some more stories, photos and videos from the convention, but for now enjoy a quick jaunt on the picturesque Alaska Railroad…

A special thanks goes out to the Alaska Railroad’s Kenny Smith, who was instrumental in getting my camera mounted on the various locomotives and trains throughout the trip! Thank you so much, Kenny!