This is a timeline I've revised some, wanting the Maine Two Foot Gauge railroads to survive as working railroads to the present day. (POD is after 1900)
I hope railroad folks (and others) will appreciate it. Feedback welcome; it's going to be the backstory for my planned HO scale model railroad.
Name of Company: North Central Railroad (consolidated from several others)
Gauge: 2 foot & (limited) standard
Period Operational: 1879 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.
The railroad took further steps to insure that the tax exemption would never lapse, in the form of an addendum to its charter. Once the governor signed that, the tax exemption was no longer something the legislature could end on a whim.
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. The experiment was authorized, if it could be done inexpensively.
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. Four 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.)
The fourth was the most radical: Electrification.
The first 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.
A small portion near Wiscasset was electrified, as an experiment. The infrastructure proved to be expensive and difficult to maintain in the cold Maine climate, and the electrified portion never exceeded 10 miles in length.
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…
In the 1920’s the automobile was becoming a significant means of transportation—but roads in Maine were far from the best. Sure, a motorcar had its advantages—but also moved at most, 30 mph on the rare good roads, was slowed down by rain, snow, and worse, MUD. And trucks were useful locally, but not so much for long distance. (With a better—and growing—railroad network, less money is going to roads. And the taxes the railroad would have paid on its land otherwise—aren’t getting paid; the railroad’s exemption has been sustained—hence, less state money for roads.)
And, at one point, a passenger paid the railroad to transport his motorcar—and soon enough, many passenger trains have a flat car or two with motorcars—or even trucks.
Also as the 20’s moved on, double track mainlines started to appear. But—each track was signaled for two-way traffic, so that the express trains could proceed with fewer delays if one train was running behind schedule, and so that longer, slower freights didn’t slow the traffic as much. In short, the North Central Railroad was acting just like a standard gauge line…or a “broad gauge line,” as the Locals in Northern Maine called the bigger trains.
Unlike many railroads, the North Central had avoided excessive bank loans, preferring instead to build up its cash reserves, then simply write a check for major purchases like a new locomotive. In many cases, the funds are invested in the booming stock market until it’s time to make the purchase. At the end of September, 1929, the CEO cashed in every stock the line owned, preparatory to ordering 3 new Mallets, a class of 6 2-4-4 Forneys, 2 more diesel switchers of an improved, yet experimental design, and 4 new high speed express steamers, along with some new coaches. (Some say that the CEO had some suspicions about the instability of the market, as he turned ALL the stocks into more liquid assets. It’s unknown why a lot of the company’s gold was in Swiss banks...)
The railroad, as a result, had massive cash and gold reserves when the depression hit—and no deadly loans sitting around ready to crush the line at a banker’s whim. Unless the depression is unusually long and severe, the company should survive—perhaps even thrive. Few people will be buying Detroit’s latest. And, if coal gets too costly, steam locomotives can burn wood—and if Maine has a lot of anything, it’s wood…
One side effect of the crash: A few locomotives that were stored for future use, years ago, and about due for the scrap heap, were , instead, shunted aside, where they could be used again if needed. In particular, the small, vertical boiler Climax that’s so popular today with railfans and Hollywood moviemakers alike today would never have survived to the present day—but fortunately, the little engine was in the back of the engine house, behind other reserve locomotives.
Business fell off as the depression set in, but the road managed to keep running—the reserves of cash intended to purchase new locomotives and rolling stock kept the line through the various glitches. And with adequate locomotives and rolling stock, wreck damage could be handled as the workforce became available, rather than either rushing it at ruinous expense, or cutting back service. This allowed the line to maintain decent levels of service, although cut back when appropriate. In some cases, railbusses filled in on less used lines—but no lines were abandoned. Profits, though slim, never quite vanished altogether.
Even in hard times, there’s people with funds for vacations, grand hotels letting rooms for low prices—in short, some tourist trade for the little trains. Adding more parlor cars helped draw trade, and wasn’t an overly expensive job. Regular passenger coaches could have their interiors gutted, and finer fittings installed. With names like Rangely, Wiscasset, Sandy River, and other towns along the line, the parlor cars were a great success. In the mid 20’s, dining cars had been added, though the smaller coaches meant that dining was not at the same level as on the standard gauge palace cars; they were essentially snack cars with decent food. The improvements made the little railroad an even more pleasant way to travel than before—and vastly superior to road transport.
When the B&M and Maine Central went to close some branch lines, the North Central bought them for fire sale prices. They were all lines that tied into the North Central’s net—for example suitable for moving furniture or potatoes from a factory to the big city, after the narrow gauge had brought in raw materials.
Likewise, people always need food and lumber—and the little line brought both of those to the city in abundance. In short, the Great Depression was a hard time for the North Central, but it came through in a reasonably strong position. By 1939, traffic was slowly growing, but the cost of locomotives and rolling stock was still low, so several multi-purpose locomotives were ordered, including 3 modern oil-electrics (as they were called then, now called Diesel-electrics) for switching, and also for helper service in a few spots.
Also in the 1930’s, railfanning brought passengers to the little trains, bringing in more needed revenue. (Railfans have been around for a LONG time!)
For helper service, diesels could be almost ideal. A helper might only be needed once or twice per day, for a long heavy train on a hill, yet a steam locomotive takes a long time to fire up, and just as long to cool down. A diesel can be turned on in a matter of minutes, and turned off likewise. In winter, it needs a heated engine house; they are notoriously difficult to start in the biter cold. The use of the diesels for tasks like this is another savings. And as one of the first railroads to use a limited amount of diesel power, the North Central Railroad diesels are some of the best in the country…
In fact, by the mid to late 1930’s, railroad men from several standard gauge lines are paying visits, learning about the practical uses of the new technology, and paying consulting fees.
Through these hard times, the North Central made some money—and management wisely plowed most of the profits into keeping the line in outstanding shape, knowing that, when prosperity returned, the North Central could be well poised to take full advantage of it…
Coming up: War Clouds gather…
As War Clouds gathered in Europe, it did nothing but good for the North Central. American industry slowly started revving up, and with it, the demand for wood, stone, and food. Additionally, the economic growth spurred more tourist revenue. Even the US Army Railroad experts came to take a look; 2’ gauge trench railways had done great things in the previous war.
The railroad also spent some of its vast reserve of political capital—more of the money for things like the CCC and similar programs went to the railroad than to highways. And—roads, bridges, and the like were built so as to provide feeders for the railroads, not to compete with them.
And then: December 7, 1941. Total War. By mid Sunday afternoon or early evening (reports vary) the senior officer of the line available had announced that there would be no charge for men traveling to recruitment centers to join up. Also, as men started to form lines at the recruitment centers, volunteers brought food, soda and water (and beer, of course)
The initial panic added some of the strangest cars seen in Northern Maine yet. One of the line’s senior engineers was also a logistics officer in the Maine National Guard, and “arranged” for a dozen .50 cal machine guns and a pair of 37 mm anti-tank guns to be deployed for defending against a German invasion or air raid.
(Note: invasion and air raid fears were rampant, even in places that were simply impossible to invade. There were rumors of Japanese carriers coming up the Red River!)
The 37 mm guns were less than practical for a 2’ gauge railroad line, but the machine guns were hastily mounted. 2 flat cars each mounted 2 twin mounts, and the other 4 guns were deployed at various critical locations. (Accounts vary as to where, and at least one ended up on a pintel mount on a caboose.)
As the invasion scare faded, the guns were quietly placed in storage, and the flat cars parked in a sheltered location, the guns under canvas. The flat car with a 37 mm cannon mounted to it, complete with outriggers, was only accidentally re-discovered, along with the second cannon, and the machine guns, much later. This equipment was the basis for several scenes in the 1960’s comedy “Invasion” about the early days of the war.
In the war years, the little line continued to provide useful service, extracting resources from Maine farms, quarries, and forests. Few new roads were needed; it was easier to expand a section of Narrow Gauge track…and Maine politics favored the railroad.
When the US Army developed “Transporters,” metal containers of standard dimensions for shipping various materials, which made the line vastly more efficient when they adapted the concept. Loading them in Maine, and simply trans-shipping containers all of the same size, saved on handling costs.
At the same time, tourism fell off during wartime—but not completely. And, to conserve coal, a few locomotives were converted to burn scrap wood. This wasn’t especially successful, but was still pointed out as people doing their part to conserve—and allowed tourist trains to run without burning any strategic resources.
The railroad’s financial officers were looking ahead to the post-war era, planning for a major housing boom. That would be all but inevitable, with the number of troops coming home, so everything needed to be very ready. Railroad-owned stretches of timber, plans in place, and more. Like Fairbanks-Morse, the impending end of the war allowed a certain amount of preparation to be done. Some coaches were refitted, made ready for high speed service again, and flat cars were made ready for the increased loads of lumber—and furniture from the factories.
Good times were coming…perhaps…
Using the US Army “Transporters” turned out to be almost ideal; everything from furniture to tombstones could be loaded into the container, and unloaded in Wiscasset, Boston, or even San Diego, Montevideo, or London. The problem of trans-shipment was massively reduced, as the Boston and Maine equipped some flat cars to easily load the containers. Other lines were hesitant to follow suit—but the Transporter was also how military shipments were being moved. Additionally, B&M flatcars ended up far away—and the sheer handiness was apparent.
In the late 40’s and early 50’s, roadbuilding was a booming industry—but not in Northern Maine, except right along the coast; it was still sparsely populated. Shipping the products of interior Maine by rail was so much less costly. At the same time, newspapermen that favored the railroads, disliked the teamsters, or were looking for a way to attract readers managed to keep the Teamsters—and trucking—tainted with crime in a way that kept the lines in a good light. Post-war prosperity also brought people to Maine to camp, hunt, ski—and also to ride the “cute little trains.”
Indeed, the North Central came to become a symbol of the state in the same way the cable cars became identified with San Francisco. Diesel and steam, even electric and gasoline powered jitneys brought tourists in. Yet, at the same time, the lack of property taxes kept the line economically viable—especially for easily transferred loads—containerized or that can be poured, such as gravel.
Although some locomotives were showing serious signs of wearing out, other narrow gauge lines worldwide were starting to vanish—and some fine, nearly new 2’ locomotives were available at near scrap prices. Also in the 40’s, new 2’ gauge locomotives were being made for industrial use. (In reality, the Maine Narrow Gauge Railroad Museum runs one made in 1949…a good, solid American made GE product.)
With steam starting to fade in the late ‘40’s and early ‘50’s, the desire wasn’t there to do as rapid a switch to diesel as so many lines were doing. But—the funds were there to acquire (at scrap or near scrap prices) some of the resources needed to maintain the locomotives. That would be needed in any event—the tourist trains almost required steam to keep the customers coming. Still, more diesels did start running.
It was during the changeover that people investigated the back of a little-used engine houses, and found a few buried treasures. The little vertical boiler Climax was one of them—small, slow, and could pull like nobody’s business. Rolled out to the main depot in Wiscasset, it was an instant hit—and shortly thereafter, was taken into the shop for a full overhaul.
By the beginning of the 1960’s, the North Central Steam Locomotive Shop was contracting out to repair and rebuild locomotives from throughout the Northeast—anyone that wanted a classic locomotive done right brought it to the N.C. Shop. The shop’s motto, “Push, pull, steam, or carry: if you get it here, we’ll steam it home,” wasn’t a slogan, it was reality. They could rebuild anything that steamed. (The North Central’s main (or Maine)shop was located at an interchange between standard and narrow gauge, so standard gauge could be rolled right into the shop—the shop had bays for standard and bays for narrow. They even added a short section of three foot gauge track, allowing them to test overhauled three footers.
Coming soon: The 1960’s
Nationwide, the ‘60’s marked a serious decline in railroading in the USA. They couldn’t compete with trucking—on interstates built with materials the railroads carried. Maine proved an exception, in several cases. Track that took wood directly from forest to sawmill to furniture factory, or potatoes from farm to French Fry plant, had its own advantages—and the property tax exemption for “Two Foot Gauge Railroads in the State of Maine” was just enough to keep freight traffic profitable. Freight paid for itself, and for keep the track in tip-top shape, allowing the passenger traffic to keep the money flowing in.
This is the reverse of the usual pattern, but several things kept the passenger trade profitable. Tourist trade, with vintage steam locomotives, brought a lot of people in. And some wilderness areas had no decent roads, and never would. But, the railroad did—and in a few cases, abandoned lumber lines were reactivated as passenger lines. The prohibition on new building in these areas was worked around by claiming that they were restoring traffic.
Because they were using steam, numerous fine locomotives became available cheap, as narrow gauge lines worldwide either dieselized, electrified, or were torn up. South African Garratts started showing up in significant numbers, and more would arrive in the 70's. This allowed many worn out locomotives to be replaced at minimal cost.
Elsewhere, 60-70 mph long distance traffic kept the profits coming in, as did commuter traffic at speeds the roads couldn’t match. A spur line, run by the US Army, transported lots of sealed containers to a small base in the woods. When the freight trains would reach the base sidings, the army’s own locomotives would take the freight the rest of the way. (“Northern Base” was actually a cold war radar system—which everyone knew about. But, the Army deliberately sent a LOT more in and out to confuse the Soviets. Shipping the materials by rail had inserted in the special appropriations bill by an otherwise unimportant Maine senator.)
The move away from the cities would hurt the line in times to come, but that time was not yet.
In a (successful) attempt to be seen as staying in tune with both the old traditions of hard work and steam power, as well as modern freedom and opportunity, the railroad started hiring women for all jobs they qualified for, as well as guaranteeing equal pay for equal work. This was described as an issue of fairness, and just as important, a money making idea, as it insured that the best qualified employees would be working on the railroad. (Women qualified to DO some of the heavy trackwork, and who wanted to, were few and far between. Likewise, there were few that could, at the time, be counted on (in the eyes of the decision makers) to keep the coal flying on a fast express—or a heavy freight drag—from Wiscasset to Rangely Lakes—but there were a few. Some cynically noted that this decision came only a couple of weeks before some legislation in Washington passed…
A fireman by the name of Freida Connolly became one of the icons of the feminist movement, mainly due to be being attractive, photogenic, and darned good at her job. . Her wirey muscles gave her an athletic look without looking dangerously (to chauvinistic men of the time) strong, and she could heave coal all day at need. And the “attractive” was mixed with free spirited—or some would say, sheer ornery cussedness. She didn’t ask any odds from anyone—or give them. (One co-worker attempted to take liberties, and got a bloody nose for his troubles.)
Performance and determination resulted in her becoming the first female engineer on the line, and enough other women were taken on to look good. Upper management was quick to clamp down on problems—but subtly, sometimes by expedients that wouldn’t be allowed in the 1990. (People transferred to other divisions, etc.) By the late ‘60’s, it was not unusual to see women working—and working hard—in almost any job on the line. It was tough for women to advance—but they could and did—and the problem eased off fast enough to avoid lawsuits and adverse publicity. (In fairness to the railroad, there were FAR fewer problems with integrating women into the workforce than in many places.)
The civil rights issues for minorities, such as blacks, wasn’t a problem here; there were essentially no blacks IN Northern Maine.
The North Central Shops likewise kept the money coming in in many ways. The railroad maintained its own boiler shop, as well as everything else specific to steam power. The overhaul shop gained a nationwide—and later, worldwide—reputation for being able to work near miracles. Any historic steam locomotive could and would be brought back to like new condition, no matter how big or small. (One building on the edge of the complex will be modeled, if my layout permits, using the Walther’s backshop. One track will be dual gauge with standard, and another will be dual gauge with HOn3 track. (The HOn3 track will not be used at all—it’s to suggest that the shop works on ANYTHING.)
As the decade passed, more and more strange steam locomotives pass through, as other lines need the specialized services. By the end of the decade, and on forwards, if it steamed, it could be seen at the Wiscasset shops sooner or later. The shops and the small museum grew, and by decade’s end, the museum’s collection was growing steadily.
Keeping the locomotives under cover was a problem not entirely solved even to this day, but it is getting better.
Next: The 1960’s Part Two: The results of Flower Power on the North Central, and the infamous “Flower Trains.”
Some groups of Hippies and other counterculture groups brought new business to areas that the trains otherwise merely ran through—taking a steam train to a secluded area seemed less intrusive than driving—and you could reach a few otherwise very secluded areas.
The “Flower Train” of June of 1967 became an icon of the era, when thousands of Hippies converged in Wiscasset, and boarded a special train bound for a farm near Rangely Lake. What was supposed to be a few hundred quickly turned into thousands, and the two extras scheduled quickly filled. More trains were added, pulled by anything available, and anything that would carry passengers was attached.
Thankfully for the railroad, word of the retreat/rally/concert/whatever you want to call it spread slowly, so the line wasn’t totally overwhelmed—but every bit of capacity available was needed. Since only a narrow dirt road led to the farm, but the railroad track ran right by it, the train was the easiest way of getting there. Not only that, but freight specials brought the food and goods they needed out there. A short siding was hastily put in—then a second one.
The news coverage also brought some attention, of course, to the trains themselves. People who’d never seen a two-footer before were intrigued by the little trains, and others, who simply remembered the days when steam ruled the rails, wanted to show their children what a real old fashioned train looked like.
Of course, other events were held on that Rangely Lakes field—though all were dwarfed by New York’s great Woodstock concert. But even so, the Flower Trains of the late 60’s have not been forgotten.
Also starting in the early ‘60’s, having some foreign locomotives, such as the Garratts, available, brought Hollywood to Maine. Nothing said “exotic far off land” than locomotives that simply didn’t look American. Several films set in Africa, of various qualities over time, were filmed on the North Central—a practice that continues to the current day. In some cases, foreign or otherwise historic locomotives were brought to Maine by a movie studio, with the provision that they be restored, and used in one or more films.
Next Up: The 1970’s—a challenge for the line
The ‘60’s merged into the 70’s, with the Hippie movement slowly fading. The big standout was the Arab oil embargo—and the relative availability of steam locomotives on the North Central helped keep what traffic there was, on the rails. Once again, despite the inefficiency of steam compared to diesel, the fact that the line paid no property taxes helped even things out.
On a few occasions, standard gauge steam also ran in northern Maine, as the Wiscasset shops supported both standard and narrow gauge.
As the 70’s progressed, freight operations dropped off in some areas; some branches saw serious traffic reductions, and a few sections were mothballed. But—for the first time since the 30’s, some major new track was laid, supporting various industries.
As a pioneer in containerization, the North Central didn’t let the intermodal revolution pass it by. Although it handles very little intermodal traffic, the line does have several intermodal cars. Keeping an 8 ½ foot wide car stable on 2 foot gauge track required some careful designing, and intermodal cars are still limited to no more than 30 mph. This isn’t a major concern, as railroads north of Boston see relatively little intermodal traffic. (Even in OTL, most trains north of Boston are manifest freights rather than intermodal)
Today, although the line is carrying less freight, it still does a considerable business. It still transports lumber to paper mills and the few remaining furniture factories. (The majority of the line’s intermodal traffic is finished furniture, containerized in Maine and unloaded in New York, Los Angles, or even Beijing and London. The factory at Alna, in particular, is world renowned for fine furniture worthy of a king’s palace. Ironicly, the factory would never have survived without the railroad—and now its prosperity helps keep the ancient line in business. Gasoline and home heating oil are part of its regular business, and the big canneries are a major customer.
Oddly enough, the North Central is only one of two railroads in the USA where steam locomotives are routinely hauling freight, and its freight volume vastly exceeds the short line Strasburg Railroad.
Freight is one of the three legs the railroad stands on today. Passenger traffic is the second. And perhaps the strongest leg. Tourists from all over the world come to ride these unique trains almost year round. The glorious fall foliage tours are the highlight of the passenger season, of course, but there’s heavy passenger traffic from late spring until the last leaves have fallen. Then traffic resumes with the ski trains. Some of the resorts are quite difficult to reach by car, especially in the winter, but the ski trains will get through. Back in the war years, the railroad built several rotary plows (the only known 2 foot rotaries) and puts them to good use, making sure that the ski areas are accessible.
Also, the railroad provides some commuter service through Northern Maine—the only commuter traffic that’s sometimes pulled by steam. (Diesel does provide the bulk of the commuter service.)
The third leg is the company’s shops. The railroad has become the premier railroad restoration facility in the nation, if not the world. Naturally, their focus is on steam of all sorts, and rolling stock of the steam era, but they can restore or build anything. (Currently, the Flying Yankee is in their shops, and should be running within a year or two.)
They also can and will build to order—anything that rolls on rails, they can manufacture. The shop tours (from a nice safe balcony) and museum are big draws for railfans who pass anywhere near Maine.
Hollywood is still taking advantage of the facilities as well, and filming is not unusual around the line’s right of way.
From the way things are looking, the North Central should be with us for a long time to come!
I hope railroad folks (and others) will appreciate it. Feedback welcome; it's going to be the backstory for my planned HO scale model railroad.
Name of Company: North Central Railroad (consolidated from several others)
Gauge: 2 foot & (limited) standard
Period Operational: 1879 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.
The railroad took further steps to insure that the tax exemption would never lapse, in the form of an addendum to its charter. Once the governor signed that, the tax exemption was no longer something the legislature could end on a whim.
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. The experiment was authorized, if it could be done inexpensively.
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. Four 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.)
The fourth was the most radical: Electrification.
The first 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.
A small portion near Wiscasset was electrified, as an experiment. The infrastructure proved to be expensive and difficult to maintain in the cold Maine climate, and the electrified portion never exceeded 10 miles in length.
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…
In the 1920’s the automobile was becoming a significant means of transportation—but roads in Maine were far from the best. Sure, a motorcar had its advantages—but also moved at most, 30 mph on the rare good roads, was slowed down by rain, snow, and worse, MUD. And trucks were useful locally, but not so much for long distance. (With a better—and growing—railroad network, less money is going to roads. And the taxes the railroad would have paid on its land otherwise—aren’t getting paid; the railroad’s exemption has been sustained—hence, less state money for roads.)
And, at one point, a passenger paid the railroad to transport his motorcar—and soon enough, many passenger trains have a flat car or two with motorcars—or even trucks.
Also as the 20’s moved on, double track mainlines started to appear. But—each track was signaled for two-way traffic, so that the express trains could proceed with fewer delays if one train was running behind schedule, and so that longer, slower freights didn’t slow the traffic as much. In short, the North Central Railroad was acting just like a standard gauge line…or a “broad gauge line,” as the Locals in Northern Maine called the bigger trains.
Unlike many railroads, the North Central had avoided excessive bank loans, preferring instead to build up its cash reserves, then simply write a check for major purchases like a new locomotive. In many cases, the funds are invested in the booming stock market until it’s time to make the purchase. At the end of September, 1929, the CEO cashed in every stock the line owned, preparatory to ordering 3 new Mallets, a class of 6 2-4-4 Forneys, 2 more diesel switchers of an improved, yet experimental design, and 4 new high speed express steamers, along with some new coaches. (Some say that the CEO had some suspicions about the instability of the market, as he turned ALL the stocks into more liquid assets. It’s unknown why a lot of the company’s gold was in Swiss banks...)
The railroad, as a result, had massive cash and gold reserves when the depression hit—and no deadly loans sitting around ready to crush the line at a banker’s whim. Unless the depression is unusually long and severe, the company should survive—perhaps even thrive. Few people will be buying Detroit’s latest. And, if coal gets too costly, steam locomotives can burn wood—and if Maine has a lot of anything, it’s wood…
One side effect of the crash: A few locomotives that were stored for future use, years ago, and about due for the scrap heap, were , instead, shunted aside, where they could be used again if needed. In particular, the small, vertical boiler Climax that’s so popular today with railfans and Hollywood moviemakers alike today would never have survived to the present day—but fortunately, the little engine was in the back of the engine house, behind other reserve locomotives.
Business fell off as the depression set in, but the road managed to keep running—the reserves of cash intended to purchase new locomotives and rolling stock kept the line through the various glitches. And with adequate locomotives and rolling stock, wreck damage could be handled as the workforce became available, rather than either rushing it at ruinous expense, or cutting back service. This allowed the line to maintain decent levels of service, although cut back when appropriate. In some cases, railbusses filled in on less used lines—but no lines were abandoned. Profits, though slim, never quite vanished altogether.
Even in hard times, there’s people with funds for vacations, grand hotels letting rooms for low prices—in short, some tourist trade for the little trains. Adding more parlor cars helped draw trade, and wasn’t an overly expensive job. Regular passenger coaches could have their interiors gutted, and finer fittings installed. With names like Rangely, Wiscasset, Sandy River, and other towns along the line, the parlor cars were a great success. In the mid 20’s, dining cars had been added, though the smaller coaches meant that dining was not at the same level as on the standard gauge palace cars; they were essentially snack cars with decent food. The improvements made the little railroad an even more pleasant way to travel than before—and vastly superior to road transport.
When the B&M and Maine Central went to close some branch lines, the North Central bought them for fire sale prices. They were all lines that tied into the North Central’s net—for example suitable for moving furniture or potatoes from a factory to the big city, after the narrow gauge had brought in raw materials.
Likewise, people always need food and lumber—and the little line brought both of those to the city in abundance. In short, the Great Depression was a hard time for the North Central, but it came through in a reasonably strong position. By 1939, traffic was slowly growing, but the cost of locomotives and rolling stock was still low, so several multi-purpose locomotives were ordered, including 3 modern oil-electrics (as they were called then, now called Diesel-electrics) for switching, and also for helper service in a few spots.
Also in the 1930’s, railfanning brought passengers to the little trains, bringing in more needed revenue. (Railfans have been around for a LONG time!)
For helper service, diesels could be almost ideal. A helper might only be needed once or twice per day, for a long heavy train on a hill, yet a steam locomotive takes a long time to fire up, and just as long to cool down. A diesel can be turned on in a matter of minutes, and turned off likewise. In winter, it needs a heated engine house; they are notoriously difficult to start in the biter cold. The use of the diesels for tasks like this is another savings. And as one of the first railroads to use a limited amount of diesel power, the North Central Railroad diesels are some of the best in the country…
In fact, by the mid to late 1930’s, railroad men from several standard gauge lines are paying visits, learning about the practical uses of the new technology, and paying consulting fees.
Through these hard times, the North Central made some money—and management wisely plowed most of the profits into keeping the line in outstanding shape, knowing that, when prosperity returned, the North Central could be well poised to take full advantage of it…
Coming up: War Clouds gather…
As War Clouds gathered in Europe, it did nothing but good for the North Central. American industry slowly started revving up, and with it, the demand for wood, stone, and food. Additionally, the economic growth spurred more tourist revenue. Even the US Army Railroad experts came to take a look; 2’ gauge trench railways had done great things in the previous war.
The railroad also spent some of its vast reserve of political capital—more of the money for things like the CCC and similar programs went to the railroad than to highways. And—roads, bridges, and the like were built so as to provide feeders for the railroads, not to compete with them.
And then: December 7, 1941. Total War. By mid Sunday afternoon or early evening (reports vary) the senior officer of the line available had announced that there would be no charge for men traveling to recruitment centers to join up. Also, as men started to form lines at the recruitment centers, volunteers brought food, soda and water (and beer, of course)
The initial panic added some of the strangest cars seen in Northern Maine yet. One of the line’s senior engineers was also a logistics officer in the Maine National Guard, and “arranged” for a dozen .50 cal machine guns and a pair of 37 mm anti-tank guns to be deployed for defending against a German invasion or air raid.
(Note: invasion and air raid fears were rampant, even in places that were simply impossible to invade. There were rumors of Japanese carriers coming up the Red River!)
The 37 mm guns were less than practical for a 2’ gauge railroad line, but the machine guns were hastily mounted. 2 flat cars each mounted 2 twin mounts, and the other 4 guns were deployed at various critical locations. (Accounts vary as to where, and at least one ended up on a pintel mount on a caboose.)
As the invasion scare faded, the guns were quietly placed in storage, and the flat cars parked in a sheltered location, the guns under canvas. The flat car with a 37 mm cannon mounted to it, complete with outriggers, was only accidentally re-discovered, along with the second cannon, and the machine guns, much later. This equipment was the basis for several scenes in the 1960’s comedy “Invasion” about the early days of the war.
In the war years, the little line continued to provide useful service, extracting resources from Maine farms, quarries, and forests. Few new roads were needed; it was easier to expand a section of Narrow Gauge track…and Maine politics favored the railroad.
When the US Army developed “Transporters,” metal containers of standard dimensions for shipping various materials, which made the line vastly more efficient when they adapted the concept. Loading them in Maine, and simply trans-shipping containers all of the same size, saved on handling costs.
At the same time, tourism fell off during wartime—but not completely. And, to conserve coal, a few locomotives were converted to burn scrap wood. This wasn’t especially successful, but was still pointed out as people doing their part to conserve—and allowed tourist trains to run without burning any strategic resources.
The railroad’s financial officers were looking ahead to the post-war era, planning for a major housing boom. That would be all but inevitable, with the number of troops coming home, so everything needed to be very ready. Railroad-owned stretches of timber, plans in place, and more. Like Fairbanks-Morse, the impending end of the war allowed a certain amount of preparation to be done. Some coaches were refitted, made ready for high speed service again, and flat cars were made ready for the increased loads of lumber—and furniture from the factories.
Good times were coming…perhaps…
Using the US Army “Transporters” turned out to be almost ideal; everything from furniture to tombstones could be loaded into the container, and unloaded in Wiscasset, Boston, or even San Diego, Montevideo, or London. The problem of trans-shipment was massively reduced, as the Boston and Maine equipped some flat cars to easily load the containers. Other lines were hesitant to follow suit—but the Transporter was also how military shipments were being moved. Additionally, B&M flatcars ended up far away—and the sheer handiness was apparent.
In the late 40’s and early 50’s, roadbuilding was a booming industry—but not in Northern Maine, except right along the coast; it was still sparsely populated. Shipping the products of interior Maine by rail was so much less costly. At the same time, newspapermen that favored the railroads, disliked the teamsters, or were looking for a way to attract readers managed to keep the Teamsters—and trucking—tainted with crime in a way that kept the lines in a good light. Post-war prosperity also brought people to Maine to camp, hunt, ski—and also to ride the “cute little trains.”
Indeed, the North Central came to become a symbol of the state in the same way the cable cars became identified with San Francisco. Diesel and steam, even electric and gasoline powered jitneys brought tourists in. Yet, at the same time, the lack of property taxes kept the line economically viable—especially for easily transferred loads—containerized or that can be poured, such as gravel.
Although some locomotives were showing serious signs of wearing out, other narrow gauge lines worldwide were starting to vanish—and some fine, nearly new 2’ locomotives were available at near scrap prices. Also in the 40’s, new 2’ gauge locomotives were being made for industrial use. (In reality, the Maine Narrow Gauge Railroad Museum runs one made in 1949…a good, solid American made GE product.)
With steam starting to fade in the late ‘40’s and early ‘50’s, the desire wasn’t there to do as rapid a switch to diesel as so many lines were doing. But—the funds were there to acquire (at scrap or near scrap prices) some of the resources needed to maintain the locomotives. That would be needed in any event—the tourist trains almost required steam to keep the customers coming. Still, more diesels did start running.
It was during the changeover that people investigated the back of a little-used engine houses, and found a few buried treasures. The little vertical boiler Climax was one of them—small, slow, and could pull like nobody’s business. Rolled out to the main depot in Wiscasset, it was an instant hit—and shortly thereafter, was taken into the shop for a full overhaul.
By the beginning of the 1960’s, the North Central Steam Locomotive Shop was contracting out to repair and rebuild locomotives from throughout the Northeast—anyone that wanted a classic locomotive done right brought it to the N.C. Shop. The shop’s motto, “Push, pull, steam, or carry: if you get it here, we’ll steam it home,” wasn’t a slogan, it was reality. They could rebuild anything that steamed. (The North Central’s main (or Maine)shop was located at an interchange between standard and narrow gauge, so standard gauge could be rolled right into the shop—the shop had bays for standard and bays for narrow. They even added a short section of three foot gauge track, allowing them to test overhauled three footers.
Coming soon: The 1960’s
Nationwide, the ‘60’s marked a serious decline in railroading in the USA. They couldn’t compete with trucking—on interstates built with materials the railroads carried. Maine proved an exception, in several cases. Track that took wood directly from forest to sawmill to furniture factory, or potatoes from farm to French Fry plant, had its own advantages—and the property tax exemption for “Two Foot Gauge Railroads in the State of Maine” was just enough to keep freight traffic profitable. Freight paid for itself, and for keep the track in tip-top shape, allowing the passenger traffic to keep the money flowing in.
This is the reverse of the usual pattern, but several things kept the passenger trade profitable. Tourist trade, with vintage steam locomotives, brought a lot of people in. And some wilderness areas had no decent roads, and never would. But, the railroad did—and in a few cases, abandoned lumber lines were reactivated as passenger lines. The prohibition on new building in these areas was worked around by claiming that they were restoring traffic.
Because they were using steam, numerous fine locomotives became available cheap, as narrow gauge lines worldwide either dieselized, electrified, or were torn up. South African Garratts started showing up in significant numbers, and more would arrive in the 70's. This allowed many worn out locomotives to be replaced at minimal cost.
Elsewhere, 60-70 mph long distance traffic kept the profits coming in, as did commuter traffic at speeds the roads couldn’t match. A spur line, run by the US Army, transported lots of sealed containers to a small base in the woods. When the freight trains would reach the base sidings, the army’s own locomotives would take the freight the rest of the way. (“Northern Base” was actually a cold war radar system—which everyone knew about. But, the Army deliberately sent a LOT more in and out to confuse the Soviets. Shipping the materials by rail had inserted in the special appropriations bill by an otherwise unimportant Maine senator.)
The move away from the cities would hurt the line in times to come, but that time was not yet.
In a (successful) attempt to be seen as staying in tune with both the old traditions of hard work and steam power, as well as modern freedom and opportunity, the railroad started hiring women for all jobs they qualified for, as well as guaranteeing equal pay for equal work. This was described as an issue of fairness, and just as important, a money making idea, as it insured that the best qualified employees would be working on the railroad. (Women qualified to DO some of the heavy trackwork, and who wanted to, were few and far between. Likewise, there were few that could, at the time, be counted on (in the eyes of the decision makers) to keep the coal flying on a fast express—or a heavy freight drag—from Wiscasset to Rangely Lakes—but there were a few. Some cynically noted that this decision came only a couple of weeks before some legislation in Washington passed…
A fireman by the name of Freida Connolly became one of the icons of the feminist movement, mainly due to be being attractive, photogenic, and darned good at her job. . Her wirey muscles gave her an athletic look without looking dangerously (to chauvinistic men of the time) strong, and she could heave coal all day at need. And the “attractive” was mixed with free spirited—or some would say, sheer ornery cussedness. She didn’t ask any odds from anyone—or give them. (One co-worker attempted to take liberties, and got a bloody nose for his troubles.)
Performance and determination resulted in her becoming the first female engineer on the line, and enough other women were taken on to look good. Upper management was quick to clamp down on problems—but subtly, sometimes by expedients that wouldn’t be allowed in the 1990. (People transferred to other divisions, etc.) By the late ‘60’s, it was not unusual to see women working—and working hard—in almost any job on the line. It was tough for women to advance—but they could and did—and the problem eased off fast enough to avoid lawsuits and adverse publicity. (In fairness to the railroad, there were FAR fewer problems with integrating women into the workforce than in many places.)
The civil rights issues for minorities, such as blacks, wasn’t a problem here; there were essentially no blacks IN Northern Maine.
The North Central Shops likewise kept the money coming in in many ways. The railroad maintained its own boiler shop, as well as everything else specific to steam power. The overhaul shop gained a nationwide—and later, worldwide—reputation for being able to work near miracles. Any historic steam locomotive could and would be brought back to like new condition, no matter how big or small. (One building on the edge of the complex will be modeled, if my layout permits, using the Walther’s backshop. One track will be dual gauge with standard, and another will be dual gauge with HOn3 track. (The HOn3 track will not be used at all—it’s to suggest that the shop works on ANYTHING.)
As the decade passed, more and more strange steam locomotives pass through, as other lines need the specialized services. By the end of the decade, and on forwards, if it steamed, it could be seen at the Wiscasset shops sooner or later. The shops and the small museum grew, and by decade’s end, the museum’s collection was growing steadily.
Keeping the locomotives under cover was a problem not entirely solved even to this day, but it is getting better.
Next: The 1960’s Part Two: The results of Flower Power on the North Central, and the infamous “Flower Trains.”
Some groups of Hippies and other counterculture groups brought new business to areas that the trains otherwise merely ran through—taking a steam train to a secluded area seemed less intrusive than driving—and you could reach a few otherwise very secluded areas.
The “Flower Train” of June of 1967 became an icon of the era, when thousands of Hippies converged in Wiscasset, and boarded a special train bound for a farm near Rangely Lake. What was supposed to be a few hundred quickly turned into thousands, and the two extras scheduled quickly filled. More trains were added, pulled by anything available, and anything that would carry passengers was attached.
Thankfully for the railroad, word of the retreat/rally/concert/whatever you want to call it spread slowly, so the line wasn’t totally overwhelmed—but every bit of capacity available was needed. Since only a narrow dirt road led to the farm, but the railroad track ran right by it, the train was the easiest way of getting there. Not only that, but freight specials brought the food and goods they needed out there. A short siding was hastily put in—then a second one.
The news coverage also brought some attention, of course, to the trains themselves. People who’d never seen a two-footer before were intrigued by the little trains, and others, who simply remembered the days when steam ruled the rails, wanted to show their children what a real old fashioned train looked like.
Of course, other events were held on that Rangely Lakes field—though all were dwarfed by New York’s great Woodstock concert. But even so, the Flower Trains of the late 60’s have not been forgotten.
Also starting in the early ‘60’s, having some foreign locomotives, such as the Garratts, available, brought Hollywood to Maine. Nothing said “exotic far off land” than locomotives that simply didn’t look American. Several films set in Africa, of various qualities over time, were filmed on the North Central—a practice that continues to the current day. In some cases, foreign or otherwise historic locomotives were brought to Maine by a movie studio, with the provision that they be restored, and used in one or more films.
Next Up: The 1970’s—a challenge for the line
The ‘60’s merged into the 70’s, with the Hippie movement slowly fading. The big standout was the Arab oil embargo—and the relative availability of steam locomotives on the North Central helped keep what traffic there was, on the rails. Once again, despite the inefficiency of steam compared to diesel, the fact that the line paid no property taxes helped even things out.
On a few occasions, standard gauge steam also ran in northern Maine, as the Wiscasset shops supported both standard and narrow gauge.
As the 70’s progressed, freight operations dropped off in some areas; some branches saw serious traffic reductions, and a few sections were mothballed. But—for the first time since the 30’s, some major new track was laid, supporting various industries.
As a pioneer in containerization, the North Central didn’t let the intermodal revolution pass it by. Although it handles very little intermodal traffic, the line does have several intermodal cars. Keeping an 8 ½ foot wide car stable on 2 foot gauge track required some careful designing, and intermodal cars are still limited to no more than 30 mph. This isn’t a major concern, as railroads north of Boston see relatively little intermodal traffic. (Even in OTL, most trains north of Boston are manifest freights rather than intermodal)
Today, although the line is carrying less freight, it still does a considerable business. It still transports lumber to paper mills and the few remaining furniture factories. (The majority of the line’s intermodal traffic is finished furniture, containerized in Maine and unloaded in New York, Los Angles, or even Beijing and London. The factory at Alna, in particular, is world renowned for fine furniture worthy of a king’s palace. Ironicly, the factory would never have survived without the railroad—and now its prosperity helps keep the ancient line in business. Gasoline and home heating oil are part of its regular business, and the big canneries are a major customer.
Oddly enough, the North Central is only one of two railroads in the USA where steam locomotives are routinely hauling freight, and its freight volume vastly exceeds the short line Strasburg Railroad.
Freight is one of the three legs the railroad stands on today. Passenger traffic is the second. And perhaps the strongest leg. Tourists from all over the world come to ride these unique trains almost year round. The glorious fall foliage tours are the highlight of the passenger season, of course, but there’s heavy passenger traffic from late spring until the last leaves have fallen. Then traffic resumes with the ski trains. Some of the resorts are quite difficult to reach by car, especially in the winter, but the ski trains will get through. Back in the war years, the railroad built several rotary plows (the only known 2 foot rotaries) and puts them to good use, making sure that the ski areas are accessible.
Also, the railroad provides some commuter service through Northern Maine—the only commuter traffic that’s sometimes pulled by steam. (Diesel does provide the bulk of the commuter service.)
The third leg is the company’s shops. The railroad has become the premier railroad restoration facility in the nation, if not the world. Naturally, their focus is on steam of all sorts, and rolling stock of the steam era, but they can restore or build anything. (Currently, the Flying Yankee is in their shops, and should be running within a year or two.)
They also can and will build to order—anything that rolls on rails, they can manufacture. The shop tours (from a nice safe balcony) and museum are big draws for railfans who pass anywhere near Maine.
Hollywood is still taking advantage of the facilities as well, and filming is not unusual around the line’s right of way.
From the way things are looking, the North Central should be with us for a long time to come!
