Railroad Torpedoes

 

DULUTH, MN

2/17/08

 

                                                            RAILROAD TORPEDOES

                                                            by Jeffrey B. Smith

When I was a kid we lived along the railroad tracks that paralleled highway 23, E of Milaca, MN.  This line was a branch off the big tracks that connected the Twin Cities to Duluth. It is long gone now but remnants of it are still active and can be seen in SW MN near Marshall, Pipestone etc. I was told that a railroad man named Spicer had the dream of connecting the Twin Ports with Sioux Falls…but I could have that all wrong too. Spicer built a nice castle for himself on Green Lake near the town of Spicer – go figure. That RR line went through Spicer (The town) I think too. (There was a line also, probably older, from Minneapolis to Milaca built by The Empire Builder James J. Hill to reap the generous bounty of the white pine in the area. The white pine forests were legendary in the Milaca area. At least until James J. came along.)

So, the nearby railroad offered opportunities for a kid’s foreshortened attention span. I had learned from my brother, a sterling pioneer in the field of discovering opportunities for divergent amusements, of the existence of railroad torpedoes. So, naturally I had my meters set to full detection when it came to those.

Railroad torpedoes are little packages, about 2 inches square, or less, with lead straps on the sides. They are red and have warnings in large black letters printed on them. In other words, perfect for an inquiring kid’s aspirations. They are strapped on the tracks and make a huge BANG! when compressed by the train’s wheels. They are used as signals to the engineer, conductor etc. to warn the train to slow down or stop etc. as it approaches an area of construction, or calamity. An ingenious method in the days before cell phones or radios. I think they could even be used in a pattern, say one blast and then two following in rapid succession, for instance, to warn of specific perils ahead.

The railroad was working on the bridge spanning the Vondell Brook just E of our home. They were leaving one of there little yellow “Putt putt” carriages there, or maybe just a trailer, and I decided one night to explore. I discovered a trove of torpedoes which I then liberated from the bondage they were suffering in an impersonal tool box. In fact so generous was the railroad in bequeathing me these objects that I decided, later, to return some just in case a train was bearing down on the workers and they had none available to warn it of impending danger. Sure, a trainwreck would afford excitement, and other looting opportunities but, someone might get hurt.

So next came the challenge of how to deploy them. My brother, long gone to the West Coast by then, used to shoot them, I think, with a 22 but that seemed redundant. He also claimed, that during school lunch hour, he had placed them on the intersection of highway 23 and 169 where passings semis would detonate them. He could then have the singular satisfaction of sitting, say in Chemistry Class, and hearing the mighty bang. And also enjoy the rest of the class, and the teacher, looking towards the high windows with that “What the?” look on their faces.

I never had any success with that method however and all I would find, after school, is ripped and scuffed up remnants of the torpedo along the curb.

So then came this Walleye Opener Weekend campout at a buddy’s place on Cove Bay of Lake Mille Lacs.

We had along a number of torpedoes and found a tree jutting out over the lake perpendicular to the shoreline. Below it was, conveniently, the shoreline boulders where we placed the test torpedo. We rolled a huge rock up the tree and then cast about for who would be the first guy to drop the rock. To have the honor, so to speak. Since we didn’t know if the trigger rock would be shattered by the explosion or be fired up into the heavens, the rest of us laid far back on the bank and covered our heads. Thankfully, our volunteer, lets call him Marvin, - who would never, ever, let us down in this type of situation - laid supine on the tree and let the rock fall.

KABLAM!! It was beautiful. In an instant we were elbowing our way for our turn at the rock, dimly aware that the fishing fleet was pulling anchor and leaving for more tranquil waters.

 

We found other more convenient ways to make them work to our advantage.  Caution: DO NOT place them on a cement block and, for the approval of your friends, squash down, with vigor, upon it with another cement block to achieve the coveted result. Especially while wearing cutoffs. The explosion ejects a mighty load of grit horizontally onto one’s exposed lower legs, imbedding particulate and causing bruising and burns. It is lucky the victim did not developed cellulitis. The marks were there all summer.

Also, I recall a time when we were in the back yard garage of a guy, let’s call him Calvin, and we hit one with the back of an axe. It yielded a tremendous report. They should not be used indoors because they also issue a great deal of acrid smoke. We came stumbling out of there, ears ringing, rubbing our eyes and coughing just as his mom came out the back door in her apron and inquired excitedly what had happened. I think some kind of a lie was employed and sufficed.

Although rewarding, in the end the torpedoes had a major drawback. A lack of spontaneity which is so cherished in a firework. I supposed we could’ve come up with more creative ways to employ them but the charm waned.

We had discovered how to make blindingly fast rockets out of crimped car antennas stuffed tightly with matchheads…