"The Great North Central" is the name of a freelanced model railroad that I'm building. I thought I'd share the base timeline, and see if there's some improvements.
The goal of this timeline is to have serious 2 foot gauge trains still running into the late 20th century and beyond.
Name of Company: Sandy River, Wiscasset, and Farmington
Gauge: 2 foot
Period Operational: 1870’s to the present
Motto: “Two Feet Wide and One Hundred Years long, and growing”
Shop Motto: You carry it in—we’ll do the rest
History/Description:
When the Maine Central attempted to prevent the Sandy River and Rangely Lakes from linking up with the Wiscasset, Waterville, and Farmington, the court case started getting ugly—until demands from the people of backwoods Maine spoke loudly enough to force the legislature to act, and the link-up was forced through. In addition, railroad service was in so much demand, that the legislature passed a law providing that “The right of way, and all buildings necessary for the operation, of 2 foot gauge railroads, shall not be taxed.”
That act insured that the 2-foot gauge railroads would have a place for a long time. Although a law like that sounds odd, it was a sure-fire way to encourage the growth of the little trains into parts of Maine that could only grow with rail service. Among other things, it encouraged potential stockholders, who would know that the big lines wouldn’t encroach, then take over, as soon as it looked like there was a major profit to be made.
Additionally, one engineer proved that it was very possible to run these narrow gauge trains at speeds in excess of a mile per minute. (OTL, one engineer routinely ran at these speeds, but the ride was very rough.)
Although the ride was rough, getting from one town to another at this sort of speed was exhilarating—and the President of the Line decided to take a chance. With profit coming in nicely—for now, anyway—a portion of the line was upgraded, and a few coaches were modified for a more comfortable ride. The “Waterville Flyer” was a huge success, especially with parlor car service added.
In the days right after the Great War, the line was fortunate enough to hire several de-mobilized submariners—including a few engineers. As a result, when someone suggested diesel locomotives for certain purposes, there were already experts in place to run them. No one ever thought they would replace steam for most purposes—but for switching in the yard, they might be useful, simply because they could be started in moments, used for an hour or two, and turned off.
A pair of war surplus diesel engines were obtained, dirt cheap, and soon were mounted on improvised flatcars, shunting cars around the Waterville yard. Of course, open-air locomotives were not the most practical in Maine, but nicely enclosed, they seemed useful enough. The clunky boxcabs were indeed slow—but also reeked of modernity and progress. That was a mixed blessing in Northern Maine—the locals accepted change but slowly—yet valued thriftiness as well.
The boxcabs were used mainly at smaller yards and plants—ones that needed their own switchers, yet might only use them for a few hours at a time. They also needed to be stored in a heated engine house in winter—diesels don’t do well in sub-zero temperatures. More often, they simply weren’t employed in the bitter cold; traffic in their yards was also slower.
As the line grew, both in length and traffic volume, there was soon a need for either double headed trains, or bigger locomotives. The occasional double-header made good economic sense, but as the loads increased, the need for locomotives bigger than the 2-6-2’s became glaringly obvious. At the same time, replacing several hundred miles of track with heavier rail would cost, and cost a LOT.
Even as diesels were being contemplated for switching, so too were far bigger, better road engines. Three basic ideas were contemplated.
The first option was to order some fairly normal 4-8-2 steam locomotives, which would increase pulling power by a third without increasing axel loading.
The second option was to order one or more Mallets, in a 2-6-6-4 configuration, for heavy freight (or what passes for heavy freight on a 2 foot gauge line.)
The third choice almost didn’t get brought up—but Beyer and Peacock and Company was hoping to get into the American market, and offered to build a pair of Garratt locomotives at a good price. (It turns out that they offered to build them at a very slight loss to get American exposure.)
All three options were executed between 1919 and 1927. Of them, the 4-8-2 was a fine locomotive, and had good power and excellent reliability; they hauled plenty of freight and passengers over the years. Tight curves were not a big issue; the ubiquitous Maine Forneys already needed broad curves. (Maine’s Forneys did not have the blind driver that many others had. Blind drivers does not refer to motorists needing glasses, but to drive wheels without a flange, allowing for tight curves on the line. Motorists that need Braille, however, DO seem to be common in some parts of Maine…)
The Mallet was a daring choice, supposing that traffic would suffice to support such a costly investment—but it also paid off nicely. Successfully hauling huge loads right into the 21st century, the first two Mallets were joined by several more over the years. They, however, needed a wye or new turntable at each terminus; they were too long for the existing turntables. Thus, their runs could only terminate at certain locations.
The Garrets were, in many ways, the best heavy locomotive for the system—powerful, able to manage tight turns, reliable, and fast. But—being imported, maintaining them posed a potential problem.
Garratts did have the key advantage of being fully bi-directional—no new turntables needed. Another pair was ordered later. The massive capacity and versatility of these locomotives worked wonders through the years of the Second World War, as heavy loads might need to be taken anywhere on the system.
The last set of special locomotives was the Baldwin 4-6-2 Pacific express locomotives. The big, high stepping engines could exceed 75 miles per hour on the straightaway, and ran smoother than the smaller Prairie 2-6-2, taking curves at a faster clip.
As the line grew, reaching southern Quebec, and also extending into Vermont in places, some were referring to it as the “North Central,” and the name change became official in May of 1928.
In mid 1929, the North Central was growing ever more prosperous, and northern Maine along with it. But, two great threats were looming, one seen, one unseen…
Next: Surviving the Depression and the Automobile…