blog.jerm.ca

Oops.

While I do have some progress to report on the various projects still on the work bench, I’ve discovered that I have… somehow… not taken any pictures in the last few weeks. And since I believe in the whole “worth-a-thousand” theory, I’d rather not post something until I have photos to go along with it. So, as a hold over until then (Saturday, Sunday?) I present a piece of flash fiction written for our local writer’s forum.

Preachin’ to the Crows

“And so, as you go forth today, Caw-brothers, Caw-Sisters, may you take today’s sermon to heart and may those hearts deep in your breasts be filled with Caw’s merciful love,” The black clothed preacher bowed his head, arms spread wide in benediction. In the field across the road his congregation – his flock, his murder – regarded him with keen, black eyes and ruffled wings. Their beaks angled not at ground nor sky but toward the man in his solemn devotion. “Go in peace, my friends, in Caw’s name!” He raised the leather bound book above his head, bowed and turned to leave. The preacher’s car sat parked in the shadow of a long crashed airliner’s cruciform tail. The big, black Regal with the clock work girl waiting patiently in the driver’s seat sputtered to life as he closed the door. Gas was precious and rare and idling a waste. And waste was a sin in the eyes of Caw.

A Brief and Modestly Fictional Historical Account of the
Cavan Township Light Railway
Later To Be Reborn As The Preserved
Cavan Swamp Light Railway

Part 3 of 4 or 5-ish.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The railway would throughout it’s lifetime maintain an eclectic collection of rolling stock. Perhaps somewhat fanatical, the management wanted to recreate the results of the Welshpool & Llanfair to such a degree that most of the original equipment was imported from the United Kingdom. Although it may have been more expensive than domestic or American rolling stock the decision was further rationalized when the construction of the right of way came in under budget.

It is worth noting however, that a contract with the Canadian Locomotive Company in Kingston was considered. The option was pursued so far that a preliminary design for a small six coupled saddle tank was drafted.

The first locomotives for the railway were a pair of four wheel, saddle tank steam locomotives of a low and lightweight design built by Kerr Stuart, and a third larger and more powerful example built by Hunslet. The railway officially opened on Dominion day, July 1st, 1908 with Kerr Stuart No.1 leading the first train from Cavan Station. At the passing loop before entering the swamp the train met with Kerr Stuart No.2 which was leading the first train south from Mount Pleasant.

As the years would pass some locomotives and rolling stock would also be procured domestically, however the railway would always maintain a British style outline, right up until it’s closing and again into the preservation era.

By 1910 the railway was having a profound effect on the areas it served with many of the mills hiring additional man power and turning out greater and greater volume. In 1908 a typical mill would on average produce two carloads of product in a week, by 1910 this number had increased to three and a half carloads.
The next decade is considered to be the railway’s golden age and it was in this period that the number of locomotives was increased with two Porters purchased from the United States (and appropriately modified). Rolling stock also reached it’s highest point in 1912 with the line owning 23 open wagons, 14 covered wagons, six brake vans and ten passenger cars; to name the more numerous examples.

So successful was the railway in recreating it’s Welsh inspiration that it actually surpassed it and from 1909 to 1921 the railway repeatedly reported a modest annual profit and an average operating ratio of 96%.

The golden age, as it were, could not last as any realist would agree and the coming of the great depression did take it’s toll. The economic versatility of the township helped the railway to weather the storm, however by 1924 the mills were back to producing their 1908 amounts of two carloads or less during the off season. During this period some were reduced further and inevitably four mills and one blacksmith closed before World War 2 hit.

By 1933 the traction department would see changes in accordance with the economic situation and the Hunslet was retired as were one each of the Kerr Stuarts and Porters. Of the latter two the rationale was to keep one example in operation while the second one would be kept for reserves or more likely parts.

To supplement the cuts to the power pool the decision was made in 1932 to purchase the railway’s first internal combustion locomotive; a chain driven, 28t and 40 horse power Mack center cab switcher. Although it was bought new (and would be the last locomotive bought new) the reduced running and maintenance costs compared to those of the retired steam locomotives offset the purchase price sufficiently.

I am standing above the bridge, I think.
The trees are the only land marks protruding from the snow.
But if my mind is right, then an arms length below my feet,
Wrapped in an icy cocoon, the bridge can be found.

Absent kicks at the hardened drift leave toe shaped pock marks.
I assume and I hope it’s still there.
The last I saw of it was in the fall, before the snow fell.
The same nails and all weather adhesive bind it together as the water tower.
That same water tower that collapsed under it’s own weight two years ago.

For now I will wait and patiently hope as I retire to the workshop.
That season is over, now is the season of the knife, drill, hammer and saw.
Shapes of plywood, batteries, a motor, wheels, axles and more.
Spread across the work bench, waiting to be.

I openly bid good riddance to the disappearing snow.
With glacial speed my garden is revealed to me once again.
And hail! The bridge has survived another Canadian winter.
But, as usual, much of the ballast has not. Sigh and shrug.

The season of the bucket and trowel is upon us.
I wander the line, lift the track, and spread a new layer of ballast.
I am generous, knowing time will eventually claim the small stones.
It is also the season of the spirit level, less constructive but equally important for the task.
I kneel in the damp, damp earth and check the grades.

The first train of the year skips along the track.
Each left over twig, piece of mulch and other detritus must be swept clear.
With bated breath the first circuit of the new year is slowly made.
I think I will paint the new locomotive a shade of red.

The air is hot and humid and I can’t wait for the end of day brew.
The Mountain Ash creates the perfect pocket of shade at the west loop.
That is where I will sit, green bottle in hand.
And watch the two trains pace each other around my empire.

But first there is trimming to be done. A nuisance harvest.
This is the season of the shears.
To the west is a crop of Thyme, trying to swallow up an entire junction.
To the east, surrounding the bridge is Bugle Weed and it is hungry for train and track alike.
They are the worst offenders, but not the only.

That accursed Daylilly keeps snagging on the new locomotive.
Bold, wine red against a sea of lush green.
I don’t dare cut it back, though. Mom would kill me.
I show it patience, push it aside, cross my fingers and enjoy my cold brew.

The Thyme and Bugle Weed have stopped their daily advances over the track.
I have no further need for scissors this year.
Instead, berries from the Mountain Ash threaten to clog the west end.
Leaves fall across the north east, closing the mill and blanketing the bridge.

Eight months have passed since I stood on that snow bank.
A dozen projects completed, two dozen more begun.
This is the season of the remains; exhausted batteries, worn out gears and axle boxes.
A time to take stock. What runs, what doesn’t.
What can be repaired, what can be salvaged.

Colder now. A blessing and a curse.
Mosquitoes are gone and the heat no longer drives me to air conditioned frustration.
But the days grow short and the cloud ominous. Rain is frequent.
The crisp air smells of apples, baking and all the assembled scents of fall.

The train trundles quietly by and disappears into the S curve.
It is time to get in every scale kilometer I can, for my season is ending.

A Brief and Modestly Fictional Historical Account of the
Cavan Township Light Railway
Later To Be Reborn As The Preserved
Cavan Swamp Light Railway

Part 2 of 4 or 5-ish.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The original route of the railway would seem to be a simple one on paper and on a map it would seem to be a lazy, inverted L shape. What isn’t seen, however, are the many small twists, turns and deviations the right of way took to counter the terrain; often either too rugged or too wet. Nevertheless the routing is relatively straight forward.

Cavan Station was located just outside of the village proper and being the largest of the two connected villages, situated on the interchange and in proximity to a local blacksmith and foundry, became the primary terminus. Facilities at Cavan included a three stall engine house and a freight platform to facilitate transhipment. The CPR station was also used to serve the railway with the track passing by the north-west side and along a platform with a length of 60 feet.

A short spur continued west from the station for approximately a kilometer and a half into Cavan itself, in some places running down the center of the main street. This branch was occasionally used for the movement of passengers and goods between Cavan and the station (quite rarely owing to the short distance) but more often then not it was used to reach the two blacksmiths and wagon builders who were frequently contracted to perform maintenance and repairs on the rolling stock.

From Cavan the line proceeded almost due north to Ida-Fairmount, an interim station roughly between the two communities from which it took it’s name. A flag station existed here as well as a single siding that served both a grist mill and as a team track. This stretch of track could originally be found between the 12th and 11th lines (north and south, respectively) and almost exactly halfway between the two communities. Before preservation the trackbed had become a farmer’s lane and still sees some use in that capacity to this day.

Next the line detoured to the east just after crossing the 12th line then readjusted and headed north again, forming a large S-curve and running up alongside the present day Howden Quarter Line. It was at this point that many of the aforementioned deviations began to be apparent as the line entered the Cavan swamp. Company records would seem to indicate that the right of way seemed to shift and take a slightly divergent path every few years as the effects of winter in the swamp took it’s toll on the road bed.

Just before the route entered the worst of the swamp was where the third station and a passing loop was located. The exact name of the station was never settled on, probably because it was a seldom used flag station, but it would seem that for most of it’s life it was known as Cavan Loop. Although passengers at this station were rare, it’s position at the edge of the swamp made it a natural freight station in particularly wet seasons when the roads became impassable.

Once out of the swamp the line made it’s most dramatic shift in direction by turning westward and crossing over present day Mount Pleasant road. The track ran along the north side of the road a short distance before crossing over once again to run on the south. A few more twists and turns were added to ease the grade before entering Mount Pleasant. The station was the largest owned by the railway itself (Cavan being a CPR station) and remains today as a private dwelling. It was in Mount Pleasant that a significant number of the railway’s customers were found including a blacksmith and foundry, two grist and sawmills and a cheese factory. These customers alone counted annually for between 40% and 60% of all traffic.

A Brief and Modestly Fictional Historical Account of the
Cavan Township Light Railway
Later To Be Reborn As The Preserved
Cavan Swamp Light Railway

Part 1 of 4 or 5-ish.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Southwest of Peterborough, Ontario lies Cavan-Monaghan Township, a rural agricultural community of approximately 9,000 as of 2006. Prior to a series of amalgamations and re-namings it – or at least the part which concerns this treatise – was known simply as Cavan Township.

The township was settled in the early 19th century and three villages were established in short order: Millbrook, Cavan and Mount Pleasant. Surrounded by fertile farmland it did not take long for a series of mills to be constructed to process the fruits of the land. At one point as many as thirty mills existed, most centered around one of the three communities.

Cavan and Millbrook – the two largest villages – long pursued a local rivalry over which was the grander of the township. The debate more or less came to an end in 185X when the Midland Railway (Formerly the Port Hope, Lindsay and Beaverton and later to become the Grand Trunk Railway and finally Canadian National) chose to build a station in Millbrook. Some years later Canadian Pacific would build it’s own station in Cavan, but by that point the matter had been settled.

As bountiful as the township’s farmland was it came at the price of also “bountiful” wetlands and swamps which made roads rather difficult to navigate at given times of the year, a matter made more the worse with the onset of traditionally Canadian winters. Frequently the villages found themselves isolated for days on end. Due to these environmental factors (and the usual attrition, economic and otherwise) the number of mills had dwindled to as few as a dozen by 1905. Other industries of note at the time included several blacksmiths and foundries, saw mills and a cheese factory.

Two years prior, in 1903 the Welshpool and Llanfair Light Railway had opened in Wales with the mission of aiding the development of the similarly agricultural area by providing access to a broader market via an interchange with the Cambrian line. Although the railway never made a profit, it’s proven results by 1906 were difficult to argue against.

Seeing itself in a similar if slightly lesser situation, the Township partnered with local merchants and mill owners to fund the construction and operation of a light railway patterned off the Welsh example. At the time Millbrook and Cavan both enjoyed rail access, though the bulk of the mills were still centered around rail isolated Mount Pleasant. After four months of debate a rough route was chosen linking Mount Pleasant in the north to Cavan where the railway would interchange with the Canadian Pacific while an option for phase two was agreed upon to extend the railway further south to Millbrook (for various reasons this option was never exercised).

The Cavan Township Light Railway was chartered on Dominion day, July 1st, 1907 although construction had already begun as early as September 1906 by “private citizens” undertaking “private enterprises” which just happened to resemble the construction of a right of way.

In the interests of keeping construction and operating costs to a minimum (and in an effort to reproduce the Welsh successes) the railway was built to a narrow gauge of thirty inches. A mostly single track line was constructed to the original phase one construction plan with minor deviations as the ground required; most of the deviations occured as the line skirted around Cavan Swamp. Four double track passing loops were constructed at strategic points including one at each end of the swamp section. In practice though these loops were rarely used as by 1918 occasions of two trains operating at once had become extremely rare.