Marque1

THE INTERURBAN: TRAVELS TO CHRISTMAS PAST

This being December 25th, I decided to take the day off, and instead re-run an article that first appeared last April. Those among you who, like me, love trains, should enjoy it, especially as it features a type of train that's long gone but retains a strong emotional attachment.

Most of our viewers, taking a quick glance at the photo above, might easily mistake it for a trio of vintage streetcars. But they'd be wrong. It's actually an "electric interurban" train. Once popular throughout North America, interurbans, as the name suggests, connected small towns and suburbs with big cities. Sometimes they'd share tracks with the railways but more often than not the interurbans had their own right-of-way.

Our modern equivalent is commonly known as a commuter train, whose journeys may be quicker but are no more interesting than the name suggests. Bring a newspaper, folks, because there's nothing to see outside those windows. Interurban routes, on the other hand, were the railroad equivalent of a car guy's back country road. They wandered through forests, past farms, across bridges that traversed creeks and rivers, alongside highways, and sometimes cruised slowly along a small town's main street. Even if you rode the interurban twice daily it would be difficult not to notice the moving panorama and appreciate its scenic moments.

The trains weren't slow – most could achieve 80 mph and accelerate much faster than a steam or diesel locomotive – but it was the nature of the route and the requirement for frequent stops that kept average speeds down. On the other hand, as electrics, they were both clean-running and quiet.

I'm probably guilty of unwarranted nostalgia here, for I've only ridden on a interurban twice in my life, both times as a teenager. And yet those trips remain large in my memory, even after traveling thousands of miles, usually with my father, on conventional railroad trains. I did admire the fast-moving expresses of the day and yet those interurbans contributed to a romantic vew of travel that, decades later, still hasn't faded

Incidentally, just before the interurban era ended, Milwaukee introduced streamlined three-car trains in which the middle unit contained a bar. Now that's a civilised way to wend one's way home from the office (although some waiting wives may have disagreed)!

My motivation for this blog came from an online sales pitch by Classic Trains magazine, in which it offers an expanded 40-page issue on the interurbans. Of course I'm not here to sell products but it seems to me that this is something anyone who loves vintage transportation (not just cars) would enjoy. It includes a look back at the North Shore Line, the fastest interurban and the one with the bar; a ride on the Pacific Electric line; the 10-best interurban car designs; and a gallery of rare photos. You can buy it on the newsstand for an extra two bucks but the annual subscription is a bargain at $24.95 for four quarterly issues.

The age of the interurbans may be long gone but it still lives in the guise of the East Troy Electric Railroad, a museum that operates heritage passenger excursions on a 7-mile stretch of track from East Troy, Wisconsin to Mukwonago, Wisconsin. There are several cars in the fleet but the railroad's pride is car no. 21, a single-truck open bench replica from the turn of the last century. Worth the trip if you're anywhere near and, oh... next to the museum you can still order traditional ice cream sodas.

[Photos: Top, Classic Trains/ Lower, East Troy Electric Railroad]

RAYMOND LOEWY AT 100: MASTER OF INDUSTRIAL DESIGN

This month marked what would have been the 100th birthday of one of the great industrial designers, Raymond Loewy. Born and trained as an engineer in France, when he moved to America in his early twenties Loewy brought a European sophistication to his new career as a fashion illustrator and display designer. Manufacturers were turning to artists in those fields to revamp their products and from this grew the industrial design profession.

Expanding his activities to include mass-produced goods, Raymond Loewy subsequently designed everything from lipsticks to locomotives to automobiles. He said that his inspiration was the female form.

The Pennsylvania Railroad GG1 electric locomotive and the Sunbeam 90 sports car, both designed by Raymond Loewy, loom large in the memory of Warren Webb, a classic car enthusiast who wrote in Linkedin, "...as a kid I lived a block from one of the main lines of the Pennsylvania RR and loved the look and sound of a GG1 going by. Fast forward a few years and my second car was a 1954 Sunbeam Alpine. That car was so cool with its factory louvered hood and body, modified from the 4-door Sunbeam Talbot 90..."

Built for use in the northeastern United States, the all-electric GG1's specifications demanded a frame of two halves joined with a ball and socket joint, allowing the lengthy machine to negotiate sharper curves. In order that the locomotive could be operated in either direction control cabs were placed near the center. Twelve 385-horsepower traction motors drove the GG1's 57-inch diameter driving wheels on six axles. The railroad insisted that it be streamlined in shape and capable of at least 100 miles per hour.

Initial styling of the prototype body was attributed to Westinghouse designer Donald Roscoe Dohner but his proposal must have lacked the style the PRR was seeking, for it then hired Raymond Loewy to "enhance the GG1's aesthetics". Loewy recommended the use of a smooth, welded body instead of a riveted one as used in the prototype. He also added five gold pinstripes and a Brunswick green paint scheme.

On January 28, 1935, to mark the completion of the electric line from Washington, D.C to New York City, PRR ran a special train prior to opening the line for revenue service. It made a round trip from Washington to Philadelphia, and on the return trip set a speed record by arriving back an hour and fifty minutes after departing from Philadelphia. A GG1 was featured on a postage stamp as part of the United States Postal Service's All Aboard! 20th Century American Trains set in 1999.

Almost 20 years would go by before Raymond Loewy was called on to design a convertible version of the attractive Sunbeam Talbot 90 sedan. Not quite a pure sports car, the Talbot 90 Convertible, also known as the "Alpine," was more of a grand tourer although that didn't diminish its appeal. In my view it is one of the prettiest cars of its era, spoiled only by the use of steering-column gearshift, albeit with four forward speeds. It gained fame as Grace Kelly's car when she tried seducing Cary Grant in the wonderful Hitchcock movie To Catch a Thief.

The "Talbot Alpine" should not be confused with the much more common Sunbeam Alpine Series I to V, launched in 1959. The Talbot version is a two-seater sports roadster initially developed by Sunbeam-Talbot dealer George Hartwell in Bournemouth as a one-off rally car. It has a 4-cylinder, 2267 cc engine taken from the Talbot 90 sedan but with a higher compression cylinder head. Gear ratios were changed for better performance and overdrive added. The bodies were constructed by coachbuilders Thrupp & Maberly. Unfortunately this Alpine remained in production for only two years, from 1953 through 1955.

Although it was never regarded as a competition car, in the 1953 Alpine Rally four Sunbeam Alpines won the Coupe des Alpes. The 6th place finisher was driven by Stirling Moss; Sheila van Damm won the Coupe Des Dames in the same rally.

Raymond Loewy was far better known for his work as a post-war consulting designer for Studebaker, in particular the Starliner coupe, in my opinion a contender for the most beautiful mass production car ever made. His last Studebaker assignment, the Avanti, is much admired at concours and other events. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to save the company.

It's fun to imagine what Raymond Loewy might say about today's designs if he were alive at 100. I'm sure he'd approve of the newest high-speed trains in Europe and Japan but I doubt he'd care for the gaping front ends of our current automobiles. They'd offend his sense of elegance.

[Photos: GG1 - National Railroad Museum in Green Bay; Sunbeam Alpine - conceptcarz.com]

WHEN TRAINS AND SHIPS COMBINED TO MAKE A JOURNEY AN ADVENTURE

Long before the days when North America was laced with highways, ships and trains moved most of the goods and people. Rivers, lakes, canals were nature's roads, the railways our highways. And frequently ships and trains would connect to provide a shortcut or a cruising vacation. The fall issue of Classic Trains has a lovely story about such a connection at Port McNicoll, Ont, one of the best remembered in North America.

The magazine reminds us that "before railways even came into being, travel between eastern Canada and the west entailed a voyage up Lake Huron and across the often treacherous waters of Lake Superior." The railways circumvented that route but a number of boats kept running "out of practicality, or a pleasant interlude in a rail journey."

A popular Canadian journey in the first half of the 20th century was a transcontinental trip that included a Great Lakes cruise. Passengers would depart Toronto for a 109 mile trip by train to Port McNicholl on Lake Huron, then board one of two luxury cruise ships, the Keewatin or Assiniboia. Two days later they'd arrive at Port Arthur/Fort William (now known as Thunder Bay), where a train would take them to Winnipeg and points west, all the way to Vancouver.

Such boat trains haven't been confined to the history books. They can frequently be seen in Europe and there is still one in North America operating two days a week and (train enthusiasts love this) in steam! It's the White Pass & Yukon, meeting passengers from the cruise ships at Skagway, Alaska.

I'm happy to inform you that after an absence of 47 years the Keewatin has been returned to her old berth in Port McNicholl, the centerpiece of a new, historically-themed hotel and rail-themed restaurant/convention center located where the trains ran next to dockside. She'd been kept as a museum in the Lake Michigan town of Douglas with her fittings and machinery still intact. The Ontario developer purchased the steamship and had her towed home, where it's open daily. Four restored railway cars are parked nearby including a business car, a coach, a baggage car, and an express boxcar.

The painting of the Keewatin shown at the top of this page is in a book of watercolours by the late Canadian artist Wentworth Folkins. Went, a long-time friend, was considered to be among the finest railway artists in North America and here he's captured not only the Keewatin but one of Canadian Pacific's light passenger locomotives, #2223. Built in February 1911, she was scrapped in February 1959. If you love both trains and ships, as many of us car fans do, an easy drive from Toronto makes it worth a visit.

THE JOYS OF AN HISTORIC RAILFAN JOURNEY

This may seem an inappropriate time to be writing about the pleasures of train travel what with three horrific accidents occuring in the last few weeks. But trains are still remarkably safe compared to other forms of transport, especially when we consider the thousands of trips taken daily all over the world. All three accidents appear to have been the result of driver error which at least assures us that technology was not at fault. I suspect the railroads are urgently taking steps to avoid a repeat occurence.

I've long believed that admirers of classic cars have an appreciation of other forms of historic transportation, thus I'm pleased to comment on a railway documentary that I just watched for the second time. It features David Suchet and the legendary Orient Express as he  immerses himself in the romance and escapism of a train immortalised in the Agatha Christie novel. Suchet played the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot in the movie version of Agatha Christie's book but don't confuse this ITV documentary with the film. Here Suchet plays himself as he boards the Orient Express in London, now a luxury tourist train, and travels as a passenger all the way to Prague.

Needless to say, Suchet is treated as a celebrity and thus is free to communicate with the crew as he learns about the Orient Express and its incredible history and even gets to drive it (under the tutelage of the real driver), thus living out a childhood dream. The documentary is superbly filmed, including exterior shots of the train in the stations and underway, plus a number of helicopter views. Traveling as it does across several countries the Orient Express gives its passengers (and us) inspiring looks at the scenery, which is enormously varied and often spectacular.

There are two parts to the journey. The first takes Suchet from Victoria Station in London to the English Channel in an Orient Express replica train, where a magnificent vintage Rolls-Royce awaits him, complete with chauffeur. The car is driven onto another train that whisks them through the Tunnel to meet the real Orient Express on the French side. Even if you're not a railway enthusiast you'll feel a touch of envy at at the sight of that Rolls.

Suchet is now a passenger in a train that's a full 1/4 mile in length, every car saved from the original train in 1922, restored by a wealthy enthusiast when the Orient Express, its glory days ended by the popularity of airplanes for point-to-point transportation, puffed to a halt in 1972. Our TV host admires the marquetry of the wooden panneling in his compartment, the lavish trim, and the many features that were unique to the world's best-known and most luxurious railway train.

Interestingly, while the sleeping compartments are fitted with most conveniences including a sink and running water for washing up, there are no showers and everyone must use the communal toilets at the end of each coach. Luxurious loos, for sure, and I suppose that was acceptable back in the 20s, however refitting the coaches would have been extremely difficult and might have spoiled the historic accuracy of the train.

There are three restaurant cars serving gastronomic specialties typical of the finest Parisian restaurants. No need to dress for breakfast; Suchet's attentive steward brings him breakfast in bed. Warning: do not watch this show if you're hungry. Suchet shows us many of the exquisite details, interviews the crew (most of whom had become his friend by the time the journey ends) and chats at length with the trainmaster about the Orient Express' history. The producer has thoughtfully added cuts from the movie as we're reminded that royalty, wealthy business people, film stars, and even criminals were once regular customers.

The itinerary includes a day-long stopover in Venice, where Suchet takes us on a gondola tour through the canals, providing captivating glimpses of the city and leaving me, at least, with a longing to see more. In fact that's how I felt about the documentary itself and why I didn't erase it from the PVR. I'll be watching it many times in future and never be bored.

In the beginning of this blog I said that admirers of classic cars have an appreciation of other forms of historic transportation and so I'd like to remind viewers that there are dozens of railfan trips existing in many countries. Some are famous and take several days, some are short and last but an hour or two. All are worth your time and money. The connection between cars and trains has long been a fact of life so whether you're a fan of one or both, I can highly recommend purchasing the "David Suchet On The Orient Express" DVD. You can buy it on e-bay for as little as $16.95.

SPECTACULAR RUN BY BRITISH TRAIN AS STEAM LOCOMOTIVES CELEBRATE HISTORIC SPEED RECORDS

While we're in another year of celebrating the birth of historic marques and automotive events, some of which are devoted to speed, those of you who appreciate all types of vintage transportation might want to look back at what British railway trains have accomplished. I'm thinking, in particular, of the Mallard, a famous British locomotive that set a still-unmatched speed record 75 years ago.

On July 3rd, 1938, in a period when few trains exceeded 100 mph, the Mallard, Joe Duddington at the controls, was chosen for a secret attempt at the world steam speed record. With a special recording carriage ("car" or "coach" to us North Americans) plus three additional carriages attached, she made a hell-for-leather dash down the East Coast Main Line between Grantham and Peterborough, reaching a top speed of 126 mph. It's a record that's never been broken.

The Mallard was one of six steamlined locomotives designed by Sir Nigel Gresley to do a specific job: power light express trains at speed from London to Newcastle and Edinburgh. His A4 Pacifics had six huge driving wheels coupled together and supported by four small wheels up front and two under the cab. Gresley's locomotives were streamlined and elegant, though totally unlike North American streamliners of the period. The colour  scheme – Garter Blue with bright red wheels – was devised to make the new steam engines different from the rest.

Amazingly, all six A4's have been preserved. Mallard is on display at Britain's National Railway Museum. Sir Nigel Gresley is based at the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and is registered for use on the mainline, along with sister locos Bittern and Union of South Africa. Dominion of Canada and Dwight D. Eisenhower have been temporarily repatriated from their homes in North America to help celebrate the 75th anniversary of Mallard's record-breaking run in 2013.

On July 01, Bittern made a special run at 90 mph from London's Kings Cross station up the main line to York, as part of the celebration. Because it's hardly normal for preserved locomotives to be driven at high speeds all sorts of special arrangements were made with the railway, including a "temporary certificate of non-compliance," a status enjoyed by no other steam engine.

I'm sure you'll agree that Bittern's spectacular run, together with the gathering of six Gresley streamliners, of which four are in steam, is an event that matches anything we car folks will be doing to celebrate famous marques and races in 2013. It certainly adds to the fun.

THE INTERURBAN, A CLASSIC WITH A DIFFERENT VIEW

Most of our viewers, taking a quick glance at the photo above, might easily mistake it for a trio of vintage streetcars. But they'd be wrong. It's actually an "electric interurban" train. Once popular throughout North America, interurbans, as the name suggests, connected small towns and suburbs with big cities. Sometimes they'd share tracks with the railways but more often than not the interurbans had their own right-of-way.

Our modern equivalent is commonly known as a commuter train, whose journeys may be quicker but are no more interesting than the name suggests. Bring a newspaper, folks, because there's nothing to see outside those windows. Interurban routes, on the other hand, were the railroad equivalent of a car guy's back country road. They wandered through forests, past farms, across bridges that traversed creeks and rivers, alongside highways, and sometimes cruised slowly along a small town's main street. Even if you rode the interurban twice daily it would be difficult not to notice the moving panorama and appreciate its scenic moments.

The trains weren't slow – most could achieve 80 mph and accelerate much faster than a steam or diesel locomotive – but it was the nature of the route and the requirement for frequent stops that kept average speeds down. On the other hand, as electrics, they were both clean-running and quiet.

I'm probably guilty of unwarranted nostalgia here, for I've only ridden on a interurban twice in my life, both times as a teenager. And yet those trips remain large in my memory, even after traveling thousands of miles, usually with my father, on conventional railroad trains. I did admire the fast-moving expresses of the day and yet those interurbans contributed to a romantic vew of travel that, decades later, still hasn't faded

Incidentally, just before the interurban era ended, Milwaukee introduced streamlined three-car trains in which the middle unit contained a bar. Now that's a civilised way to wend one's way home from the office (although some waiting wives may have disagreed)! 

My motivation for this blog came from an online sales pitch by Classic Trains magazine, in which it offers an expanded 40-page issue on the interurbans. Of course I'm not here to sell products but it seems to me that this is something anyone who loves vintage transportation (not just cars) would enjoy. It includes a look back at the North Shore Line, the fastest interurban and the one with the bar; a ride on the Pacific Electric line; the 10-best interurban car designs; and a gallery of rare photos. You can buy it on the newsstand for an extra two bucks but the annual subscription is a bargain at $24.95 for four quarterly issues.

The age of the interurbans may be long gone but it still lives in the guise of the East Troy Electric Railroad, a museum that operates heritage passenger excursions on a 7-mile stretch of track from East Troy, Wisconsin to Mukwonago, Wisconsin. There are several cars in the fleet but the railroad's pride is car no. 21, a single-truck open bench replica from the turn of the last century. Worth the trip if you're anywhere near and, oh... next to the museum you can still order traditional ice cream sodas.

[Photo: Classic Trains]

ONCE A RAILWAY STATION, NOW A LIQUOR STORE, TORONTO LANDMARK RECALLS AN EARLIER ERA

My late friend Wentworth Folkins was generally regarded as Canada's finest painter of railroads. He focussed on trains not only because he loved them but also as a way of preserving Canadian transportation history. "Went," as he was known to his friends, did this so eloquently that I wish there was a permanent display of his works in a museum or gallery.

In the painting above he deviated slightly from his focus on massive steam engines to present a scene that features the historic North Toronto station, opened in 1916 and formerly served by the Canadian Pacific Railway. It was constructed in the Beaux Arts tradition and features a 140 foot clock tower modeled after the Campanile di San Marco in Saint Mark’s Square in Venice. It was the first building in the city to be constructed of Tyndall limestone from Manitoba, noted for its weather resistance, embedded fossils, and dappled beige hues.

When the downtown Union Station opened in 1927 the North Toronto Station, which served smaller towns in Ontario and was originally meant to augment the bigger station, began to lose customers. The last paying passengers filed through the station on September 27, 1930 and Brewers' Retail, the government-owned liquor and beer store, moved into the northern portion of the terminal building in 1931. So the station was saved although for many years it was left in a semi-grubby state.

A few years ago it was restored to as-new condition, including a modern liquor store and an attractive interior that pays homage to the building's history, including photo presentations of the station and neighbourhood as it used to be. Fortunately the clock tower, once a Yonge Street landmark, has been retained, complete with functioning clocks.

Went's painting also involves automobiles, streetcars, a bus, and, if you look carefully in the background, a train on the bridge that crosses over Yonge Street. A lovely reminder of the romance of transportation, though much has changed since then. The famous Peter deWitt streetcars are gone, the 1920s automobiles have been replaced by contemporary models, public transit exists but it's now underground in the form of a modern subway. Rail traffic is limited to freights and alas, no passenger trains stop at the former CPR station.

Thanks to the artistry of Went Folkins we can all imagine a time when streetcars, automobiles and passenger trains converged on a busy Yonge Street. A far livelier scene 80 years ago than it is today.

GUESS WHAT'S MISSING FROM THE REAR OF THE TRAIN?

It wouldn't surprise me if many of our younger viewers failed to recognise the vehicle shown above, though anyone over 50 should instantly recognise it as a "caboose." The photo was taken at Illinois Central’s South Water Street freight terminal in Chicago, April 1943 and is among sixty photographs that will appear in the Center’s exhibition "Faces of Chicago’s Railroad Community: Photographs by Jack Delano," which will open April 4, 2013, at the Chicago History Museum.

Throughout most of railroad history the last car in a freight train was the caboose, there to provide train crews (usually a conductor and a brakeman) with shelter. The crew could exit the caboose for switching or to protect the rear of the train when stopped, check for malfunctions such as shifting loads, broken or dragging equipment, and look for hot boxes (overheated axle bearings, a serious fire and derailment threat). The caboose was also a mobile office with minimal living quarters, a table or desk for record keeping, and stoves or heaters to provide warmth. Although they came in various designs and styles most had a box-like area with windows, located above the roof in the middle or the rear, known as a "cupola."  Fitted with a special seat, the cupola allowed the conductor to look ahead and keep an eye for problems.

By the mid-80s railroad technology had improved sufficiently that many of the crew's responsibilities were made redundant and that gave the companies a money-saving excuse to eliminate cabooses from service. The conductor was moved to the head of the train in the diesel engine's cab, while a flashing rear end device (FRED) was attached to the rear of the train to detect air brake pressure and report any problems to the locomotive.

For those of us who grew up with railways from the days of steam engines, a freight without a caboose just doesn't look right. If we were waiting at a crossing for a train to pass and looked back down the line the caboose was always a reminder that the end was in sight. Sometimes we'd even get a friendly wave from the crew. Watching a freight pass today is like a movie that goes black with the last scene and has no credits. Fortunately a few cabooses are still in use around rail yards, for special service and attached to railfan trains, while hundreds have been preserved as museum artifacts. They've also been converted to living quarters and restaurants.

Inspiration for this blog came from the Center for Railroad Photography & Art. If you're a train fan, and many classic car enthusiasts are, the Web site is worth a visit.

A CAR FAN LOOKS BACK AT THE AGE OF STREAMLINED TRAINS

I'm aware that not everyone who follows Marque1 shares my enthusiasm for trains, both old and new, nor for vintage steam engines. But it's not unusual for classic car enthusiasts to be interested in historic transportation of all kinds and so I'm taking the liberty of devoting today's blog to a famous steam engine of the past. It is one of a series of five built for Canadian National Railways by the Montreal Locomotive Works in 1936.

The 1930s was a decade known for "streamlining," or what we now refer to as aerodynamics. Until then, steam engines were purely functional in design, with little or no attention paid to the effects of aerodynamic drag. Eventually locomotive builders began enveloping their giant machines in bodywork that not only smoothed the flow of air but resulted in handsome designs that could be used in advertising to attract passengers. CN's streamliners were created with the assistance of wind tunnel tests, probably using scaled-down models. The objective in this instance was not just to improve aerodynamic efficiency but to reduce smoke being blown in the engineer's face. Six nearly identical engines were built in the US for the Grand Trunk Western, a CN subsidiary.

U-4 type 6400 became famous as one of the engines, representing Canadian National, that pulled the Royal Train during the 1939 Canadian visit of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

Canadian Pacific's Royal Hudson was another, though better remembered. For many years the restored Hudson pulled an excursion train from Vancouver BC to Squamish. Although it was hugely popular with tourists and railfans alike, the engine was withdrawn from service when the railroads and the province refused to contribute to maintenance costs. Fortunately the Royal Hudson was saved by the West Coast Railway Association and is kept in running condition, ready for future excursion service. CN's 6400 has also been preserved at the Canada Science and Technology Museum though it will never run again.

One day, not long before the last U-4 was pulled from service, I had an opportunity to ride in 6400, an engine that, when I was a youngster, had made an enormous impression on me, for I was not only in love with trains but was attracted to any form of streamlined transportation. By the late 50s 6400 had been relegated to pulling commuter trains between Burlington, Ontario, and Toronto's Union Station. Clearly there was no sense of romance among the railroad's bean counters.

I was living in the Toronto suburb of Long Branch, the morning train's last stop before Union Station. As usual, I was late getting up for work. I ran to the station, arriving next to the locomotive cab just as the passenger car doors were being shut. The engineer looked down as I shouted a plea to ride in the engine rather than lose my job. "Okay," he called, "c'mon up but make it fast!" And that's how I got to ride in the last of the CN streamliners.

[Photo: railroad-line.com]

ON THE WEB: THE GLORY DAYS OF SHIPS AND TRAINS

I've just discovered a Web site about cruise ships and ocean liners of the past which also has, buried in its content, some wonderful tales and photos of streamlined rail transit during its glory days. It's called "Cruising the Past, the Award Winning Cruise Ship, Ocean Liner, Travel and Social History Website." The only problem is that the home page doesn't offer links to its non-cruise ship pages, but more about that in a moment.

While glancing at the photos of classic ships in the golden age of ocean liners I was immediately drawn to the publicity photo seen above. It features Canadian Pacific’s S.S. Princess Marguerite steaming from Victoria, BC, to Vancouver and what captivated me is that I once sailed on that very ship. It was in the late 1950s and I was working as a news announcer in Victoria's CJVI radio station. I needed to spend a couple of days in Vancouver and the only way to get there was via the Princess Marguerite, which offered first class overnight accommodations on the downtown-to-downtown service.

Unfortunately I couldn't afford the price of a stateroom but early in the voyage I met a young lady who was attracted to me, as I was to her. It didn't take long to establish a romantic relationship, for this was one of those love-at-first-sight happenings. Okay, okay, maybe it was lust-at-first-sight but, heck, we were young and eager. Part way into the evening we agreed that a stateroom would be a more comfortable place to cuddle than our bench on the deck and we agreed to share the cost.

Sorry to disappoint you, folks, if you were looking for a sexy end to this tale, but when we pooled our resources we lacked sufficient funds. And so we spent the rest of the night on deck.

The Princess and her sister ships provided service between Vancouver, Victoria and Seattle. They were the finest coastal liners on the Pacific coast, breaking all intercity speed records between Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle and established an enduring reputation for elegance and beauty.

 

As mentioned, the site also includes fascinating articles and photos about classic streamlined trains and other forms of transit but you won't get to them from the home page. I found this story of the Santa Fe Super Chief by Googling the artist's name. Leland Knickerbocker was a General Motors artist (GM built the diesel engines) and the Super Chief's classic “Warbonnet” livery is arguably the most beautiful paint scheme ever to be applied to a passenger train. It was often referred to as "the Train of the Stars."

The Super Chief was legendary, not only for cutting 15 hours off the Chicago-Los Angeles run, but also for its beautiful exterior and Navajo-inspired interiors. It's maiden voyage began at Chicago's Dearborn Street Station at 7:18 PM on May 18, 1937. Thirty-nine-and-three-quarter hours later it arrived in Los Angeles. Passengers usually included Hollywood stars, corporate big shots, and politicians, willing to pay extra for fine food and service. For example, those who wanted fresh trout the second night would place their orders, which would be telegraphed ahead. The fish would be caught the next morning and served that night as the chef's specialty: Colorado Mountain Trout Grillade.

Forty hours on a train, even with a private compartment, may not appeal to today's in-a-hurry business people. But for service like that plus superb scenery at ground level, they'd arrive in a much better mood. Now known as Amtrak's Southwest Chief, it still runs, though without the glorious paint scheme.