How Far Do You Think To The Next Gas Station?

Day 14 : 4th October 1996

“Shit, that‘s a f*****g E unit!”

The purpose of staying in New London was to cover the ConnDOT Shoreline East services which now started from there, 18 miles further out than their old turn back in Old Saybrook. Trouble is, the train was 06.25! Yawn TAXI! Arrival at the station found one of ConnDOTs newly rebuilt GP40s on the train so it was this down to Old Saybrook where fortunately, the station shack was in business for coffee and breakfast sandwiches.

Another Geep to Clinton and a trip outside for more essential coffee had us stood on Clinton platform when the driving trailer of an outbound SLE ECS appeared round the corner.

Looking along the top of the stock, it was soon obvious that propelling object visible over the top of the coaches was not the hood of the expected Geep. At this point fatigue and caffeine delay (that’s my excuse) brought forth my utterance “Shit, that‘s a f*****g E unit!” much to Barry and Smurf’s amusement! Of course in reality F Unit 6691 blasted past, still good but no E unit. In point of fact you’d be lucky to find an E within a hundred miles of where we stood. If you wanted one that actually worked, a hundred miles further. Worse still, in my excitement I had launched my coffee so now I was going to be thirsty as well as stupid!

ConnDOT GP40 6699 departs Guildford with a New Haven bound SLE service.

Another Geep produced for the next leap down Guildford, where attempts to peer into the rising sun, eventually revealed the shape of the expected F on the next one into New Haven.

Not an E unit! ConnDOT SLE F7 6691 after causing author to lose his coffee.

With Shoreline East being a peak only “one way” route the fun here was over. Indeed the same was nearly true of the trip as a whole, but with a day and a bit left there were still things to be done.

Amtrak fielded a pair of AEM7s from the loco change at New Haven which provided a useful leap the 70 miles to New York Penn. From Penn another Amtrak P32 got us to Yonkers on the Hudson Valley (for no other reason really than to save walking across Manhattan to Grand Central). Here we went our separate ways to try and mop up odd locos and for me it was a mixed pair of “real” down to Grand Central to cover the evening through commuter trains to Danbury.

The sets and locos for this spent their day at GCT (hardly intensive stock use) and so were all sitting in order of the departure in the platforms as usual. All of them were real but unusually while there were two train sporting pairs of FL9s, the first 16.59 was lead by an FL9 and one of Metro Norths FP10s. 413 the oldest, fifty years old that year in fact!

A traditional move on the Danbury services then. First pair to Stamford Connecticut, second pair to South Norwark, third pair to Wilton for a single on the shuttle back, seven Fs in four hours.

Arriving at Wilton found most things shut, however a walk over the bridge found an Italian restaurant called Portimofinio which looked like it might have a bar. Indeed it did but this was evidently an up-market establishment. Not only was the car park full of Mercs and Range Rovers, but all those inside appeared to be in some sort of evening dress. I meanwhile stood there in my best “yes I have just spent 14 days living out of this bag” condition, oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I made my way to the bar and noted they had Bass of all things! Confronting the now severely glaring barman, I summoned up my cleanest English accent. “may I have a pint of Bass please?”.

His face suddenly brightened, “oh you're English” he said, possibly mistaking me for some scruffy, eccentric Lord “Certainly, coming right up!”. I was then left in piece to enjoy although some of the customers looks suggested they were not used to having a scarecrow drink at the end of their bar. I suspect had my accent been American and gone along the lines of “gimmi a beer bud” I would have been quickly introduced to the door and car park.

Shuttle back to South Norwark, Unit to Stamford and an Amtrak AEM7 from there brought a meeting with Barry and Smurf for the run down to Newark and a taxi to our motel. This proved a mistake (at one point in the taxi journey there was a guy stood outside a bar waving a gun about and it’s not going to be a replica round there!) as Newark seemed a very seedy place and the motel, although part of a known chain was scruffy and like Fort Knox. UGH!

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