FlanaryRon-CSX 8536 South-Strawberry Patch-n of BSG VA 8-18-86
The “Patch”
Many times I’ve posted images on FB and other places of train photos taken in the “Strawberry Patch.” As with most rural areas, this particular community is not defined by a metes and bounds survey description. It’s just an expanse of land in the Powell River valley just to the west of Big Stone Gap, Va. You go from Wise County to Lee County along Va. Route 605 after you cross Powell River around two miles west of Big Stone Gap. It would be a stretch to call BSG “urban,” but you don’t have to drive very far out of town toward Cumberland Gap that you’re clearly in the “country.” If we went west more than two or three miles, the road ended. There was then a stretch of inaccessible area before you reached another community: Olinger. Until the end of the steam era, Olinger merited a daytime train order office and depot, but it was long gone.
If someone grew and sold strawberries in that area, I never saw them or purchased any. Back in my high school days in the mid-60s, the “Patch” was a favored spot for young couples seeking a dark spot just off the road so they could “neck.” It was a favorite of mine, and I enjoyed the company of a few wonderful young girls there. It was all pretty innocent in my time (although many boys talked a big game), but a few babies might have been conceived there. Unless pregnancy can be achieved by smooching, I’m sure I wasn’t a father. It was hardly what one would consider a romantic spot, but options for privacy were hard to find. One other thing: once you found your spot, turned off the engine of your parents’ automobile, and switched off the lights, it was DARK! If you had any fear, it was amplified by the thought of some wild animal, an axe murderer, or an alien from space walking up to knock on your steamed up car windows. After whatever time elapsed to the point it was time to drive back to civilization, it was a relief when the car started again after you hit the ignition switch. You didn’t dare turn the key to “ACC” to play something on the AM radio. If you did, the drain on the battery might doom you to an early death at the hands of a “Woodbooger.”
The ”Patch” had another appeal for me, however. The track of the L&N’s Cumberland Valley Division extended down the valley and could be accessed at three or four spots. It was great for railroad photography in the day, of course, but at night, there was a special intrigue. All L&N road power had a Mars or Gyralight rotating headlight above the standard headlight. The main headlight faced straight ahead, but the rotating light danced either in a circular or figure-8 pattern, depending on the model. This safety device was very effective in alerting motorists at grade crossings that a train was approaching, particularly after dark. If you were in a rural area with little to no “light pollution,” on a clear night you could see an approaching train headed to Norton, Va. some 10 to 12 miles away from the “Patch.” Even in the moment of a warm embrace with me whispering “sweet nothings,” my eyes would scan the dark horizon to the west hoping to see the sweep of a Mars light. When I did, I KNEW we weren’t going anywhere until the train got there. And, when it did---the drama was incredible! My companions sometimes protested that they were “scared.” Fear not: it’s the “Old Reliable”! The rotating signal light beam was quickly traced to its source as the lead unit passed us. Five thundering Alco RS-3s would race by the car at 50 MPH in the pitch black darkness, followed by a long string of freight cars of all varieties. Finally, there were the flickering kerosene marker lamps on the rear of the wooden caboose. Sometimes I suggested it was time to leave, and that we drive up to Appalachia to “see what power he had.” This was my idea of the perfect date.
It wasn’t dark in the “Patch” on the afternoon of Saturday, August 16, 1986. I had called the yard office in Loyall, Ky. earlier to get a line up. An SCWX 90-load for Pennyroyal, S.C. was on the way, and probably going through the Hagans switchback at that moment. I knew the running times for virtually every stretch on this line, so as the time approached to catch this one on film, I headed to the “Patch.” It wasn’t a Kodachrome day at all, so I changed the film and placed a roll of Ilford XP-1 fine grain black and white negative film in my Nikon.
Within five minutes of my guess of what time the train would appear at the grade crossing with Route 605, CSX 8536 rolled through the reverse curve and toward my spot. It wasn’t dark, there was no Mars light, and the Alco RS-3s were scrapped long ago---but some of the drama was still there.
Do you have a favorite spot where you could mix the worldly pleasures of teenaged love with trains? I’ll bet you did…
FlanaryRon-CSX 8536 South-Strawberry Patch-n of BSG VA 8-18-86
The “Patch”
Many times I’ve posted images on FB and other places of train photos taken in the “Strawberry Patch.” As with most rural areas, this particular community is not defined by a metes and bounds survey description. It’s just an expanse of land in the Powell River valley just to the west of Big Stone Gap, Va. You go from Wise County to Lee County along Va. Route 605 after you cross Powell River around two miles west of Big Stone Gap. It would be a stretch to call BSG “urban,” but you don’t have to drive very far out of town toward Cumberland Gap that you’re clearly in the “country.” If we went west more than two or three miles, the road ended. There was then a stretch of inaccessible area before you reached another community: Olinger. Until the end of the steam era, Olinger merited a daytime train order office and depot, but it was long gone.
If someone grew and sold strawberries in that area, I never saw them or purchased any. Back in my high school days in the mid-60s, the “Patch” was a favored spot for young couples seeking a dark spot just off the road so they could “neck.” It was a favorite of mine, and I enjoyed the company of a few wonderful young girls there. It was all pretty innocent in my time (although many boys talked a big game), but a few babies might have been conceived there. Unless pregnancy can be achieved by smooching, I’m sure I wasn’t a father. It was hardly what one would consider a romantic spot, but options for privacy were hard to find. One other thing: once you found your spot, turned off the engine of your parents’ automobile, and switched off the lights, it was DARK! If you had any fear, it was amplified by the thought of some wild animal, an axe murderer, or an alien from space walking up to knock on your steamed up car windows. After whatever time elapsed to the point it was time to drive back to civilization, it was a relief when the car started again after you hit the ignition switch. You didn’t dare turn the key to “ACC” to play something on the AM radio. If you did, the drain on the battery might doom you to an early death at the hands of a “Woodbooger.”
The ”Patch” had another appeal for me, however. The track of the L&N’s Cumberland Valley Division extended down the valley and could be accessed at three or four spots. It was great for railroad photography in the day, of course, but at night, there was a special intrigue. All L&N road power had a Mars or Gyralight rotating headlight above the standard headlight. The main headlight faced straight ahead, but the rotating light danced either in a circular or figure-8 pattern, depending on the model. This safety device was very effective in alerting motorists at grade crossings that a train was approaching, particularly after dark. If you were in a rural area with little to no “light pollution,” on a clear night you could see an approaching train headed to Norton, Va. some 10 to 12 miles away from the “Patch.” Even in the moment of a warm embrace with me whispering “sweet nothings,” my eyes would scan the dark horizon to the west hoping to see the sweep of a Mars light. When I did, I KNEW we weren’t going anywhere until the train got there. And, when it did---the drama was incredible! My companions sometimes protested that they were “scared.” Fear not: it’s the “Old Reliable”! The rotating signal light beam was quickly traced to its source as the lead unit passed us. Five thundering Alco RS-3s would race by the car at 50 MPH in the pitch black darkness, followed by a long string of freight cars of all varieties. Finally, there were the flickering kerosene marker lamps on the rear of the wooden caboose. Sometimes I suggested it was time to leave, and that we drive up to Appalachia to “see what power he had.” This was my idea of the perfect date.
It wasn’t dark in the “Patch” on the afternoon of Saturday, August 16, 1986. I had called the yard office in Loyall, Ky. earlier to get a line up. An SCWX 90-load for Pennyroyal, S.C. was on the way, and probably going through the Hagans switchback at that moment. I knew the running times for virtually every stretch on this line, so as the time approached to catch this one on film, I headed to the “Patch.” It wasn’t a Kodachrome day at all, so I changed the film and placed a roll of Ilford XP-1 fine grain black and white negative film in my Nikon.
Within five minutes of my guess of what time the train would appear at the grade crossing with Route 605, CSX 8536 rolled through the reverse curve and toward my spot. It wasn’t dark, there was no Mars light, and the Alco RS-3s were scrapped long ago---but some of the drama was still there.
Do you have a favorite spot where you could mix the worldly pleasures of teenaged love with trains? I’ll bet you did…