Dieselpunk Saturday: Monofail

What's the difference between Popular Science and Astounding Tales in the 1930's? Astounding Tales cost 20 cents an issue and had stories by the likes of C. L. Moore. Popular Science, on the other hand, just had wild and baseless ideas with fancy covers designed to sell copies. I'm trying to figure out the benefit of a blade-driven monorail, but I'm coming up empty. I'm equally perplexed by the rudder-looking tail at the back of the vehicle. I've had the good fortune to sit in the cab of a diesel-powered train and I know that there's an engineer, but no steering. Anyway, it's fun to look at and very Dieselpunk, so I thought I'd share.

Pennsylvania Railroad - Rain, Snow, and Dark of Night...

The Pennsylvania Railroad apparently took a queue from the US Postal Service, promising to get you there no matter what the weather. I guess that's a lot better than stopping the train somewhere in the middle of Ohio and making an announcement that the trips been cancelled due to mist.

For Americans, this was the tail end of the golden age of travel, World War II wouldn't start for almost six months (this ad comes from the June 30, 1941 issue of Life Magazine) and the US could still pretend Europe's problems were strictly an European affair. There's a lot of talk of thrift owing to the lingering effects of the Great Depression, but you also see mention of luxury accommodations and business too.

The whole thing puts me in a nostalgic mood, thinking back to a time when the experience of travelling was part of the vacation. You didn't dread the airport, nobody charged you extra to have a bag, the airlines hadn't signed a blood-oath to fix prices and prevent customer service, and you could sit back and enjoy the ride. Something's been lost and the geniuses running American and United aren't interested in rediscovering it any time soon.

1901 - The Hotel Tampa Bay

It's probably obvious that I've been combing through the archives of Life magazine lately. I know I've aired a lot of comic and advertising material from the 20's issues of the magazine in recent weeks, and I have to say the trend is likely to continue for a while. I have an admitted fascination with the early 20th century and I've been indulging it of late. So I hope you'll forgive my continuing the trend.

The Tampa Bay Hotel was built in 1891 by Henry Bradley Plant as the crown jewel in his Tampa transportation empire. The railroad was the fulcrum of Tampa business, connecting the city's downtown with Port Tampa where passengers could embark on a Plant Line steamship to Mobile, Jamaica, Cuba, or Bermuda. Having invested $2,500,000 to build and $500,000 to furnish his opulent resort-palace, Plant went all in to make the Tampa Bay Hotel a success.

Visitors disembarked from their trains directly into the hotel lobby, having traveled a special railroad spur Plant had built specially for the purpose. Once inside, those staying at the Tampa Bay were treated to luxury previously unknown in the Tampa area. The hotel offered suites of 3 to 7 rooms most of which had private baths. Every room was provided with electricity and telephone, luxury items and novelties in the late 1800's. Tampa's first passenger and freight elevators transported guests and their luggage between the hotel's five floors. The furnishings were opulent, featuring Venetian-style mirrors, European sculptures, and furnishings so luxurious as to be described in the hotel's brochures as "a jewel casket into which has been gathered an infinite number of gems."

In an era before the 24-hour/365-day world we live in, the Tampa Bay Hotel's season ran from December to April  and guests were treated to balls, tea parties, and hotel-organized hunts. A guest could start the day with deep sea fishing, spend the afternoon playing a round of golf, listen to John Philip Sousa perform on the lawn, and after dinner attend a grand ball in the hotel's Music Room. The Tampa Bay Casino located on the hotel grounds served as a spa during the day and in the evenings, with its pool covered by a removable floor, transformed into a concert venue which seated up to two thousand people and featured performers such as Nellie Melba, Sara Bernhardt, and Anna Pavlova.

In 1933 the Tampa Bay Hotel became the home of the Henry B. Plant Museum and the University of Tampa and it remains open today for those lucky enough to have an opportunity to visit.

Travelling in Style

 

Pullman luxury from the 40s. I've taken a 40 hour-plus cross-country trip on Amtrak and the experience can be a harrowing one when you're travelling coach. I'm willing to wager that it's still better than an equivalent air trip, though. That is unless you really get into surly cabin staff, delays, lack of leg room, having your luggage lost, and being charged for breathable air.

 

A Pullman car is something different, though. It's like having a rolling economy hotel for the duration of your trip. Consider the cheapest room aboard an Amtrak train runs (as of today) about $350 one way. With the base-level room you get:

• Meals
• Picture window
• Two reclining seats which convert to a bed; upper berth which folds down from wall
• Restrooms, showers nearby in same train car
• Electrical outlets
• Climate control
• Individual reading lights
• Garment rack
• Fold-down table
• Fresh towels and bed linens
• Soap and shower amenities
• Personal service (turn-down, coffee, paper, make-up bed)
• Bottled water
• Daily newspaper

I've stayed in hotels that didn't offer as much.

 

So, right now you're probably asking, "Who has 40 hours to get to their destination?". The proverbial moose on the table is time, we've become a society that values instant over almost everything else. I concede that train travel to the coast for the weekend isn't viable unless you live, well, on the coast. I submit that as a society we might do well to reacquaint ourselves with time and distance. America is huge, five time zones (counting Hawaii and Alaska) of diversity and difference. Train travel gives you a real appreciation of just how big the US is and, maybe, an illustration of how different we all are.

Correction

Dear Reader,

All of us make mistakes and I believe the best thing we can do when we recognize a mistake is to own that error. To that end, I have an error to admit. It isn't a tragic one. It isn't a substantial one. Instead its one of those bungles of the brain - the type where you deftly explain your reasoning and conclusions only to realize much later that you didn't have the question quite right.

Yesterday, when I wrote about traveling by train, I made a bit of a mistake on the fare information. In actuality, the price for travelling by train with a bedroom works out to be over $600 round trip. I neglected to include a return trip in my original estimated price. I also realized that the comparison wasn't exactly of the old apples vs. apples variety - my plane ticket was coach and my train estimates were definitely first class. To rectify this I performed a quick fare estimate with Delta Airlines for a flight leaving on November 8, 2009 and returning November 11, 2009 and I came up with a cost of $1100.00 round trip. Also I didn't realize that meals are included with your fare when you book a bedroom with your train trip.

What it comes down to is you're buying time when you fly. If time is what you need (or something you don't have to spare) air travel is your bag. If you have time for a more gentile trip (and its within your budget) I recommend the train.

Yours Most Sincerely

- G

An Addendum on Traveling

Dear Reader,

This morning, after a short nap of nine hours, I had an opportunity to read my last missive about traveling. I think it could best be described as downtrodden. Maybe spending too much time alone in a hotel room is apt to put anyone in a bleak kind of mood - that is unless it's a hotel on some sun-blessed shore with good music and warm starry nights. Then again, I guess if you're in your room long enough instead of out somewhere dancing and enjoying good company, well you'd probably be depressed in Bali Hai. I guess the point is, I don't want to come down on the wrong side of travelling because I really like to travel. Well, at least somewhat.

It seems at the moment travelling has kind of run down hill and, at the moment, is lying in a ditch waiting for an ambulance to arrive. I'm old enough to remember a time before the major airlines started knocking on congress' door with a cup and cart of apples, so I remember a time before the airlines cut costs by eliminating service. Ah, yes, the times before every plane was packed to the overhead bins, before passengers and ungulates had a shared understanding of the trip to the slaughterhouse. At present there are two trips a day from Indianapolis International Airport to Dulles - one departs at 6AM and the other arrives at 11PM. Any enjoyment in between would seem to be of the delirious, bleary-eyed sort. Add to this the fact that the major airlines have steadily decreased space for passengers and gotten progressively worse at making schedule and you've a good idea of why travel (business travel) can be distinctly unpleasant by its very nature.

So, what's a fellow to do? We're all prisoners of the Airlines, aren't we? The simple answer is no, we are not - so long as we have time, that is. We're prisoners of our schedules, when we adapt and make our schedules adaptable a great number of opportunities present themselves.

I give you my schedule for my latest business trip to Virginia: Depart Monday morning, arrive Monday afternoon, shuttle to the rental counter, pace the hotel lobby and sleep on an uncomfortable bed, go to work over the course of three days, return Thursday evening, delayed by the airlines, and finally arrive back home in time to welcome Friday morning which was already an hour old by the time I parked in my driveway. Total cost, $414.00 plus rental car and meals with all the health benefits of drinking a slurry of catsup and salt.

Now, I present an option:

You can catch an Amtrak from Indianapolis to Chicago Union Station and then on to Washington DC, a seventeen hour jaunt on train with a 2 adult bedroom car, for $366.50. On-train meals won't cost any more than they do in an airport and if you bring a deck of cards and maybe a good friend you can make a rolling party of the jaunt. Grabbing a rental at Union Station isn't a problem since the rental car agency (at least the one I use) has a desk in the train station. GPS will get you from the station to the hotel in barely more time than it took to drive from Dulles.

The difference is obvious - 17 hours. Think of my trip, though. If I would have left Sunday Evening I could have ridden through the night and arrived Monday morning and probably wound up at my hotel earlier than I did by flying. Not to mention the sights between Indianapolis and DC, the off chance of meeting a few colorful people, with a wireless account I could have worked from my bedroom, or if I wanted I could have gotten a few chapters of my next novel written. And all for the cost of 17 hours trundling along on the rails - it's worth considering.

Yours in Sharing the Rails,

- G