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| Maryville Model Railroad Club - The Smoky Valley Railroad The Smoky Valley Railroad | |
| Project Status: Here is the latest video (August 17, 2011) of railroad operations The mainline track is open for occasional train running. The branch line is currently closed in order to continue with the scenery building. In order to help us focus on the scenery motif, the fictional story (to the right) has been created. MMRC members and friends, you are invited to review, critique, and add to this story. The more stuff we can add, the more interesting our layout will be. |
Photo & Video Archive | | The Smokin' Joe A Fictional Story  
The Smoky Valley Railroad was created in order to support the logging and lumber industries of the Great Smoky Mountains. It was originally a 19-mile branch of narrow-gauge rail interchanging with the Louisville and Nashville at Laurelville. At the turn of the twentieth century the line was owned by Jimmy R. Buddig. It has changed owners several times over the years since and continues as a private enterprise today. For a brief period the SVR was folded into the L&N (as the Smoky Valley Subdivision) but, in a corporate move unusual during the downsizing era of the 1980’s, returned to private status during the mergers that created CSX transportation. Although privately owned, the SVR operates in partnership with CSX and routinely uses a 25-mile stretch of CSX Class I rail. It services several industries in the vicinity of Laurelville, Tunk County, Tennessee. In recent times SVR has expanded into the excursion business and now operates several passenger excursion trains in partnership with the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad. In addition the SVR is contracted by CSX to operate and maintain CSX’s “South Wind” executive train. Mountain: Shaconage Mountain, so named by the Cherokee nation because of its “blue, like smoke” visual character. SVR’s branch line ends with a four-mile loop around the mountain that includes a spur to the Rich Mountain Marble Quarry. A segment of the loop runs through a 1600-foot tunnel. A longer second tunnel on the main line, the Funnell Tunnel, funnels sixteen CSX mixed freights daily. Quarry: the original Guyot Quarry, now the Rich Mountain Marble Quarry. Stone mined from this quarry during the early days comprise a portion of the U.S. Capitol building. River: Trillium River, technically the Middle Prong Trillium which runs through the northern third of Tunk County. Valley: Trillium River Valley. Bridge: Trillium River Bridge on the CSX mainline, the "bridge over Trillium waters." Branch line: known as the “Rock Hard Line,” this is the portion of track owned solely by the Smoky Valley Railroad. So named because of the marble waste accumulating along the right-of-way over the years. Loop: Black Bear Loop; location of Rich Mountain Poor Man's Campground, a cluster of primitive camp sites. Passenger station: Montvale, located on Montvale Street in Laurelville; serves as a small railroad museum and terminus for SVRR excursion trains. Railroad yard: Brown's Yard, named after Member Emeritus Joe Brown. Town: Laurelville, population 7000, located on the Trillium River. Town: Alco, technically incorporated into Laurelville in the 60's, however the locals still call it "Alco." Double crossover: “Hapless Junction,” named so from the days of the narrow-gauge rail. Quarried marble had to be transferred by derrick over to the standard-gauge mainline, presumably at high cost and occupational danger to the quarry companies. Smoky Valley Railroad: Nicknamed the “Smokin’ Joe Line.” Under certain weather conditions, stack gasses from the early steam engines would accumulate in the Trillium Valley. During those times the local gentlemen would stroll along the river smoking their favorite cigars which, to the delight of their wives at home, would be masked by these gasses. It was believed that sulfur coal could more than adequately cover the stench of Burma Cheroots. Mainline: CSX Local industries: Rich Mountain Marble, Fontana Aluminum (Greenbrier Division), Tremont Brick, Chilhowee Lumber, Stott Locomotive Leasing, Intersouth Freight.
Our “story” about the Smoky Valley Railroad continues to develop. Here is the latest find from the dusty archives of the Tunk County Public Library. (I will let you decide whether it’s fiction.). It’s about Jimmy Buddig’s middle son, Chesterton “Chet” Buddig. Well, Chet grew up in the family railroading tradition and worked on the Smokin’ Joe since he was a teenager. By the time he reached his sixties, he had become the best Shay locomotive engineer this side of the Mississippi. The only blight on Chet’s career was his occasional problem with alcohol. It was rumored that he carried a gun in his hip pocket. What was less of a rumor was that it wasn’t a gun at all, rather a hip flask molded in the shape of a gun. Anyway, late one night he was piloting a Shay into Laurelville and he was on a real toot of his own. He had two brakemen with him. They came to a stop at the yard’s water tower, and Chet proceeded to lay in a supply of water. Over the strenuous objections of his brakemen, he insisted on pouring the water directly into the hot boiler. The brakemen dashed to safety just in time. The explosion could be heard five miles away, and it was said that every building in Laurelville had at least one window broken. All that was left of the Shay were the wheels attached to the charred frame. Fire Chief Craig and his men walked up and down the track looking for Chet, but they found no sign of him, not even a bone. About thirty minutes into the search, one of the firemen happened upon a metal object not far down the track from the ill-fated Shay. They thought it looked like a gun. Chief Craig said, “Wait a minute. Let me see it.” He help up the gun in the dim light of the yard tower. When he shook it, it sloshed. “Well, it’s a hip flask all right,” said Craig. They stood around silently. “Chet was one of my buds,” murmured Carl Jeffers. Presently Chief Craig spoke. “You know what...?” He looked back at the skeleton of the Shay, then did an about-face. Right in the middle of his line of sight was a giant birch tree about thirty feet from the track. They slowly walked toward it. As they approached the massive trunk, they heard a moan coming from up in the tree. Craig’s men scrambled to bring up a ladder. They found Chet Buddig up there surprisingly in one piece. When they brought him down, they observed not a scratch on him. All that was wrong was he swayed when he tried to walk, and the seat was torn out of his pants. He took his flask, and when he saw that his hip pocket was gone, he opened the flask and drank the last of the whiskey. “Well, c’mon guys!” urged Chet. “Vernon’s is still open. Meet me there for a nightcap. My treat.”
The Smoky Valley Railroad has been lucky in its hiring of competent engineers. One such engineer, Julie, signed on about two years ago. She was a petite blond, about 5’ 2 “. She wore old dungarees and plaid shirts and had her hair done up in a ball. You know the story -- just give her a Colt 45 . . . Well anyway, she had just graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in Mathematics. Julie’s father was a Norfolk Southern engineer and, from very early, learned just about everything there is to know about locomotive diesel engines. This led to a couple of summer jobs before being permanently hired by the SVR. In a short time Julie qualified for solo operation of GP’s on the Smoky Valley. This story concerns her unusual rite of passage which happened six months ago. One rainy afternoon, a voice came crackling over the office radio. “Hey, Smokin’, Annie Oakley here. Seems we have a situation.” Charlie, the track manager, looked up and said, “She’s out with the 50 headed for the yard.” The day shift supervisor, Mr. Brown, took the mike. “Brown here -- what’s goin’ on?” After a rather long pause, Julie came back on. “It seems my engine is trying to do the splits.” Brown and Charlie looked at each other. “I was turning out onto number 3 rail. It seems that the front wheels got past the point okay, but the rear ones continued down the main track. I am wedged in here tight as a drum head.” Charlie spoke up, “Did you derail?” “No, and no damage that I can tell,” she replied, “I just need a tow to pull me out of this lock. Can someone send a loco this way?” Charlie looked at the clipboards on the opposite wall. “Negative,“ he replied. “All cows are out. Just sit tight and we’ll get the D7 over there.” The two brakemen went out to jump-start the ancient bulldozer. Twenty minutes later they clattered down the service road on the old machine and approached the stricken locomotive. From a hundred yards away through the rain, it looked as though the engine had been lifted up and set back down perpendicular to the track. Jack got out his Nikon cool-pix and snapped a few pictures. They attached a chain from the tractor to the rear of the 50. “When you start to feel a pull, “ shouted Jack, “nudge the power very gently.” Julie waved from the cab, and Jack shifted into reverse and slowly pulled away. When the chain became taut, Julie carefully applied power from number one notch. With a loud squeal of metal on metal, the wheels freed, and they pulled the big locomotive back onto the main track. Just then Charlie drove up in the pickup truck. He took out a long pry-bar and went to work to realign the switch point. Well, Julie was hardly fazed by this initiation. Back at the office, amid snickers and looks, she stood in the middle of the room. “Okay, boys,” she announced, “free beer to all of you, under two conditions: Behave yourselves, and do not publish those pictures!”
The day crew showed up at their usual 4AM to discover what looked like an ancient farm tractor parked near the building. Frank found a note on the open-air dash which read: “Thought you guys could use a tractor for your yard ops. Please accept this donation. She runs like a charm. Directions on how to start follow. Regards, Thirston King (just up the road a ways)” Any struggling short-line like the Smoky Valley Railroad would gladly receive most donations, but this clunker? The chassis looked as though it might have been a large pickup truck, with absolutely no body left except the rusted cowling around the engine. It had huge all-terrain tires and the men saw that it was four-wheel drive. All that was left of the “interior” were a front-seat, steering wheel, dash, and firewall. Jason, about to end his night shift, came out of the office and walked over. “This, gentlemen,” he said, “is a 1957 Dodge Power Wagon.” Jason was an antique car enthusiast whose head was filled with thousands of automotive facts. “Check out the 230-cubic-inch flat-head six. If you doubt this beast can pull anything, I found out that the differential’s gearing is a whopping 5.83.” They stood there and considered. “How did it get here?” someone asked. “Came by flat-bed about 9 o’clock last night. Guess they didn’t want to get into trouble with the Tunk County Sheriff.” Jason walked toward his car. “There’s no ignition key - you have to use a flat-blade screwdriver to turn the switch. Starter button is on the left.” With that, he was off, and they watched his car disappear down the service road in the frosty darkness. “Well, come on!” said Frank. “let’s see if it’ll run. You guys take charge -- I’m getting some coffee.” Colton watched him retreat to the office. “Coffee, indeed,” he muttered. Colton got behind the wheel and Floyd held a flashlight to the sheet of instructions. “It says just hold down the starter until it fires.” Colton took the screwdriver, jiggled the switch on, and pressed the starter button. Wooooor, wooooor, woooor. “Battery’s shot,” Colton remarked. “Just keep cranking,” urged Floyd. Wooooor, wooooor, woo -- BANG!! Colton jumped. “Damn! This thing needs a safety!” Colton got up from the seat. “Hold on!” said Floyd. “Keep going, keep going.” Wooooor, wooooor, wooooor -- after what seemed like more than enough time for the battery to declare its last gasp, the engine caught, and with a billow of blue smoke and a most awful roar, the sewing machine rattled to life. Colton looked at Floyd. “Now what?” “Let’s take a spin around the yard. Then let’s you and I divest ourselves of this flivver. Frank can have it back -- he’s the boss.” As the old machine steamed and trembled, they jolted down the road with transmission howling, transfer case growling, and differential whining. Later, back at the office, Frank had made an urn of coffee, and, as a combined peace offering and atonement, produced a box of fresh chocolate glazed donuts. An hour later, Julie came out of the comms room with a great report. “Guys, we’re in luck. Turns out that our competitors across the mountains are just about finished restoring their 80-foot turntable, and they need some means of turning it. There’s not enough of them at any given time to use the “Armstrong” method. They said they would love to have the tractor -- under one condition.” “What’s that?” Frank asked. “That we provide the ferry service.” Frank looked around the room. “Okay, all yours, Colton.” “Aw shucks!” Colton exclaimed. “Hey, hold on now,” replied Frank. “I saw you eat five of my donuts.”
Writer’s note: In the early days, some railroad yards used manpower to turn their locomotives around. This was known as the “Armstrong” method. The Columbus & Greenville Railroad in Mississippi used this method to turn their 80-foot turntable. As manpower dwindled over the years, there were often not enough men around at a given time to apply their shoulders to the turntable. Over time they improvised. See link http://hawkinsrails.net/shortlines/cagy/cagy_columbus.htm. Scroll halfway down, and you will see a few pictures of the C&G turntable. Look closely, and you will see the farm tractor they used to turn the turntable. | |
| Project Description: MMRC’s current club project is building an HO scale layout. It uses open grid and L-girder construction. The modified U-shape of the table provides an efficient fit in the 13’ by 14’ room. Outer-edge length of the table is 37 feet. The layout consists of approximately 175 feet of track arranged in a single track overlapping dog-bone pattern with two passing sidings, industrial spurs, a branch line with reversing loop, and a small yard, providing a variety of train operations. The two loops of the dog-bone are the main line tracks with minimum curve radius of 22.5 inches. Track is code 100. The curve radius and rail height give us the flexibility to run both large and small locomotives. Maximum grade is 2.5 percent. Track plan consists of 22 turnouts and a double crossover, all motor-driven. Track wiring is DCC. Layout theme will be present-day East Tennessee. 
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