ell, you can’t spell “Shenanigans” without “Shannon”.

And, it seems, you can’t spell “Dumbass” and “Dipwad” and even “Wackadoodle” without him, too.

I’d really overbooked Saturday. I agreed to run on the Virginia Southwestern earlier that day, but the club was having a Saturday Night Special session that evening. I’d asked at the business meeting if we could maybe, you know, skip it but too many people wanted it. I even considered not going but Shannon sweet-talked/blackmailed me into doing it. So, spending thousands of husband points and possibly fatiguing a year or more off my life, I agreed to come dispatch.

The Juice train rolls hot out of Bound Brook. New Feature – the owner requested waybills to drop cars and we did it. Got a car you want to cycle through our industries? See the Ops Committee (Photo: Juicy John DV)

Zack and I had just made the furious drive back from Polk City to Oburg and had time for a quick dinner pit stop. While there, I get a call from Shannon who tells me he’s gone railfanning and won’t be making the session that he’s dragged me into. I gotta admit, it really pissed me off. And anyone else, I wouldn’t believe such shallowness. But Shannon is an actual railroad guy who  routinely busts his warrants, so sure, he could be that much of a sniveldrip. I was pretty mad when we spoke, implying what a dungball he was for skipping out of something he’d skipped me into. Hung up. Fumed.

About twenty minutes later we got to the club. I went in and told everyone that President Twit had skipped the session. This was met by giggle-giggle-giggle. Only then did I realize that Shannon was sitting there, smiling.

Ho ho. Jolly joke. It ’tis to laugh.

Yeah, we’ll even up on this one.

So anyway, outside of the backstabbing humor of the club shitweasel, we got ready to get back to business. New dispatcher Phil D would be on the Eastern Division, and I’d carry Western. We set up his board, I fired up my computer and we got ready for action. I came out for a final look at the signup sheet. Realized that the session I’d thought would be a pathetic half-run thing was shaping up to go full-blown; we had a lot of people there and a lot of trains to run.

The Juice train has cleared the summit, crossing from Eastern to Western division without an issue. Four cars and being pulled off the rear end to be taken to Federal Cold Storage in Shelfton (Photo: John DV)

So clock hot!

I thought there would be nothing on the line but it was the full lineup so I put out my usual strategy – 202 into Zanesville with SB2 going by, followed by the coal train. The locals tucked into their pockets, just like they’d been trained (I’ll admit to considering sending Shannon’s 921 into Silver Bullet Two, but his death would make me look bad so I didn’t). But Phil (who was freaking a bit but still moving trains) was meeting me at Red Rock just like he was supposed to.

I know what some of the new guys had problems out on the line; spoke with some of them after the fact and told them it was normal. They’ll get better. And if you think about it, the old sweats got to where they are through all sorts of trails and frustrations. It’s always good to see new members get blooded for their first goes.

My only crazy moment came when Phil dumped three trains down on Red Rock without warning (247, 95 and 153). I’d just give 244 a warrant up the hill to open up Martin Yard, with 298 pumping air and getting ready to go, 152 was dropping racks on Martin Main One and 68 was passing Mingo, heading to terminate in Pittsburgh Station.

And then 247 lost brakes at Red Rock and avalanched down the slope towards Pittsburgh, a real “Unstoppable” moment as it went off the rails on the slope with 244 rushing to met it head-on!

I’m glad the overheads and phones worked well. Told 244 to go into emergency. “Roger!”. Told 247 to stop his train. “Shut the f**k up!”. Voided all my warrants.

Okay, got 68 to hold in Weirton. Held 244 on Pittsburgh until 247 could meet him. 97 was easy – down the hill and into Pittsburgh Station to conclude. But West Racks 153? Then the light bulb! I gave him the weirdest order of the day, running him down into the station loop, using it as a temporary siding.

Happily Zach was on the ball (now back in his native yard element and not dispatching on the VSW) – he cleared the yard quick. We got 153 (again, Shannon who I again considered killing) into Martin, 247 in behind him, 68 into Pittsburgh Station, 244 up the hill, following shortly after by 298. Everything got done. One moment, my panel was a bunch of stacked trains. The next, clear. Dispatching is like that.

927, the Zanesville Local, works the Carbon HIll branch. Yeah, heavy lifting in the hallow (Photo: Kyle S)

End of the night, we’d run everything but a loaded ore train. The mill was not operational because of technical issues but hey, we had our hands full as it was. We got to play with the lights (and nothing got stolen (we were missing a tank car off 202 but found it still burning in the Zanesville/Carbon Hill tunnel after the session)). And even though I will still one day hold Shannon’s slowly stilling heart in my bloody hand, I did have a good time.

It was great running Saturday (with full lighting effects). We might invest in some pen lights, through. Food for thought.

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Against his wishes, Pete has to run Silver Bullet 1, not 2. It’s just not the same, not having Jim T’s 202 corncobbing him at every stop. (Photo: Pete F)

The Shelfton Turn, 902,  pushes SP cars into the Tuscarora Branch. (Photo: Alex B)