The Hartline family making tougue and grove flooring for the store

and the work continues…

break time for the boys and queeny

Gail and Cindy paiting siding

The front of the new general store

some people are hard at work

Buckley’s resident fox overlooks the progress

Please come to Traverse City on July 4th and join us at Harerty’s Family Car & Antique tractor show..

A lot of us from the Buckley Old Engine Club will be there with our tractors, cars, gas engines and even a few motorcycles.

If you need any info please e-mail me or call me 616-516-1777.

It will be a ton of fun!!

Jim Luper

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Buckley Railroad began running during the show of 1996, but the idea of it began long before. The Engine was purchased around 1990 and we laid the first 300 feet of track in 1995. A company laid the rest and then had to realign all of the curves.

Our main engine is an America 1924, 0-4-0, (F.M. Whyte Classification System) Yard Engine (or in railroad terminology, a Goat). She spent her working years in Detroit at a Detroit Edison Plant. In fact it was the power plant that had seven sister smoke stacks that were taken down in 1998. Her job there was switching out coal cars and supplying coal for the boilers to make electricity. She was retired in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. At that time she went on display in a local park. She sat there going into disrepair until the mid 1980’s when a youngster climbing on her got a foot caught in her smoke stack. That instance caused them to think she was too much of a liability. We found out about her and bought her. She sat here two years before her restoration began. It took four years to bring her back into running condition. Surviving Steam Locomotives in Michigan

About the time the engine was started, we purchased a diesel engine, a 1929 vintage Plymouth Industrial Switcher. They were used for switching cars and spotting them for loading and unloading at a factory. They weren’t pretty, but they were a handy little engine.

About the time the American steam engine was half done, we purchased the rolling stock from a local tourist train. There was a 1943 General Motors Diesel yard engine. (Last year we traded the GM Diesel for another American 0-4-0 steam engine. A 1929. It is a bit bigger than the 1924. This engine saw service on the Wisconsin Central Railroad and then went into mine service. The company traded her for our GM Diesel and transported the American here.) We also got a 1917 Stillwell Coach that started its career in suburban service (I think in the New York area) on the Erie Lakawana Railroad. We got two open air coaches which started their days as boxcars on the Pere Marquette Railroad. They ended up being converted into flat cars to be used as idlers for loading and unloading the car ferries. After the ferry service ended they had railings and seats added and went into local tourist service.

We also got a NW work train caboose. These were used by work gangs working on the railroad, such as laying rail and at train accidents. This car also started out as a boxcar. It was rebuilt in North Carolina at one of the NW yards.

The new American 0-4-0 is behind the Woodworking Building on the club show grounds. There’s a lot of work to be done on it, but it has a good boiler and that’s a lot. We almost didn’t have the Stillwell Coach. If it hadn’t been for bumble bees and beer it would have been cut up for scrap. They actually started to cut one end off the car and run into the bees and stopped. At that time a man bought her.

The depot, at the Buckley Jct., will be named the Howard Wilson Depot in honor of Howard, one of the original Co-Chairman of the Conductors. He did a lot to see that the railroad got going.

The Buckley Lantern
‘Reflecting on the Northwest Michigan Engine & Thresher Club’
1997

By Frank D. Holzschu
4057 Intertown Rd.
Petoskey, Michigan 49770

Slow, rhythmic, blasts of steam. Gasses drawn from the fire and pushed violently through the stack, producing a puffy gray ribbon of smoke over the Buckley landscape. The Buckley passenger train begins its journey, ascending the grade on the high iron rail of The Buckley Road. The No. 207 locomotive responds to the engineer’s hand, easing the throttle as the train rounds the curve at the summit. The fireman works the water and steam valves initiating the injector, then hooks the fire with a soot blackened poker and shovels fresh coal over the life-giving flames of the fire. The work caboose supporting a large water tank on its platform follows and functions as a tender for the locomotive. The train slithers past the Christmas tree farm and rounds the curve as the rail begins its descent. The passenger coach and covered gondola car are filled to capacity as the train glides past open farm fields on the left and a campground of tents and trailers on the right. The whistle screams a warning, signaling the imminent road crossing ahead, the crossing guard smiles and waves as the train roars past. The conductor weaves his way between the seats in the coach thanking the passengers for riding The Buckley Road, as the train rolls to a stop at the Buckley depot.

The lantern’s wick is turned up high with its bright light shinning on the railroad, a railroad without a name. The road began in the early nineties when The Buckley Old Engine club purchased a 0-4-0 steam locomotive. The members of the club had kindled a dream of building and operating a railroad on their show grounds one mile west of Buckley, Michigan, for a long time. Acquiring the locomotive was like turning on a draft inducer, drawing oxygen rich air through the flames of the dream. It took a short five years to build the road. The club’s dream became reality on Wednesday, August 14, 1996, when Engine No. 207 steamed its way over the road of rail, transporting a cargo of elated club members to the 29th annual Buckley Old Engine Show. The flames pushed the dream at such a rapid pace that little thought was given to a name. Two years later the railroad is still without a name. It is hard to write about something without a name and for this reason I will give the railroad a handle, “The Buckley Road.”

The Buckley Road began when Larry Wichern, Nick Lederle, Tom Graham and myself went to Ypsilanti, Michigan, to prepare the 0-4-0 for the move to Buckley. The switch engine ended its working life many years previous, its major components were still intact, but that’s about all you could say for it. Time and the elements had worked their havoc. The smoke box bottom was rusted through and the door was missing, the brake stand was missing, the gauges, the relief valve, the whistle and many other vital parts were missing. We worked one long, hard day to get the locomotive ready to be lifted onto a lowboy tractor trailer. That evening we stayed at a nearby motel, we discussed the clubs dream and talked about important railroad stuff. Larry spoke of the steam trains arriving and departing the depot in Cedar, Michigan, when he was young. Nick told about the pros and cons of Sir Nigel Gresley’s conjugating valve gear. Tom remembered going to the East Jordan & Southern roundhouse with his father to look at Engine No. 6, when he was young and I explained the desperate need for installing a track pan at Buckley so the train could take on water without having to stop. Now, most of these conversations had little or nothing to do with building The Buckley Road, but it’s the very thing that caused flames of the dream to dance and glow with a brighter hue. Not only the four us were caught up in the dream, almost every member of the club had their own story to tell that fanned the flames of the dream. Thinking back, a handful of traction engine plow boys, old engine and tractor enthusiasts thinking they could build a railroad, it kind of boggles the mind. It’s a good thing we didn’t know then what we know now or we may have left Ypsilanti, without the locomotive. It takes a lot of time, it takes a lot of labor, it takes a lot of sweat, takes a lot of phone calls, it takes a lot of patience and it takes a lot of money to build a railroad. We may have had some idea of this at the time but certainly not to the degree that we needed to know. The next day a crane lifted the locomotive onto the low-boy that carried it off to Buckley and that was the beginning of the Buckley Road.

It’s been seven years since the flames of the dream engulfed the members of the club and many things have happened. Early on, a caboose was purchased and not long after that a small Plymouth diesel switch engine came to Buckley. The club purchased rail, ties and spikes for the road and that’s when the restoration of the locomotive began to get serious. The Alanson & Petoskey Railroad’s rolling stock was purchased. The large diesel engine, its coach, work caboose and two gondola cars were moved to Buckley. A company was hired to lay the mile of track and a large pole building was erected to house the train. In the first part of 1995 the track was finished and the locomotive was near completion. Anticipation was high and the thought of running the steam train at the 1995 August old engine show, churned the flames of the dream among the membership. But it was not to be, little things, it seemed like an infinite number of petty problems began to plague the project. Club members tackled the problems one at a time with zest and vigor as the clock ticked toward the dead line and in the end, the clock savored victory. Over the next few months the problems were ironed out and the finishing touches were added. On Thursday, August 15, 1996, the passenger train began service over The Buckley Road and the members of the Buckley club tasted victory. During the ’96 and ’97 shows the train transported over 20,000 people. A line formed at the Buckley depot each morning and persisted until nightfall. The faces in the line would change as the cars filled and departed for the twenty minute journey over The Buckley Road. The line shortened and lengthened and lingered and endured until the sun settled in the west, at days end. A shadow from the train building would slowly swallow up the line, digest it for the night and then slowly regurgitate it as the sun rose in the east, the next morning. This happened each day of the two show’s and there is no reason to believe it will be any different in 1998. Yes, flames of a dream inspired many things to have happened over seven years and the Buckley membership can stand up tall and be proud.

Many people worked hard to make The Buckley Road a success. Club members handled almost every aspect of the project. It is not possible to mention every person’s name involved in the undertaking. Sheer numbers alone prohibit this and I simply do not know every person who had a hand in the dream. Still, some people need to be named and recognized. Ron Decker, Fred Mida, Tom Graham, Larry Wichern and Nick Lederie were key people. They are the people who kept the dream focused, they are the people who made the tough decisions, they are the people who stuck with the project through thick and thin, and they are the people who spent endless hours behind the scenes, making the dream happen. Also, in need of recognition are John Sprandel, Bob Jones, Wilber Volkening, Charlie Volkening and Glen Segraves. These men spent nights, weekends, holidays and for some taking time from their business or job to make the dream come true. Likewise, in need of recognition are the anonymous club members that financed the project. Along with those mentioned above, there is one more group in need of recognition. A group of ladies indirectly helped make the dream possible, the wives of the men that gave so much of their time and talent to the project. Marge Wichern, Susie Lederle, Kathy Graham, Ruth Volkening, Helen Volkening, Davon Sprandel, Bonnie Jones and Mary Jane Segraves are to be commended for staying the course the many days and nights their husbands were off working on The Buckley Road. Marge Wichern speaks for the group as a whole, when she refers to the No. 207 locomotive, as “The other woman.” A big thank you goes out to every club member who helped, supported and dreamed, for without you The Buckley Road, could not have become reality.

Few, if any, Buckley club members have ever set foot in a corporate board room or spent an afternoon at the country club, flaunting greater wealth than they possess. In most instances, club members have callused hands. He or she understands a hard days work and is willing and happy to help a coworker, friend or stranger in need. Members have many talents and can be found filling a wide range of functions at the Buckley club, from the person busting coal for the locomotive to the president conducting a monthly meeting. It’s not the job or status held that is important, it’s the talents, the knowledge and the skills possessed by the person that is important. A good coal buster never breaks more coal than is needed, only enough to keep the immediate fire going. A good president knows when to talk and, more important, when to listen. The Buckley club has many fine coal busters and a good president. The work it took to build The Buckley Road did not happen by setting around the country club lounge, sipping martinis and telling simple jokes. The Buckley Road happened because people with dreams, imagination, determination, persistence and callused hands, worked together and stayed with the job until it was done.

The kerosene is running low and the lantern’s light is starting to fade. It is time to drop “The Buckley Road” handle, and get back to a railroad without a name. I’m sure a name is coming. The Buckley Old Engine Club seems to handle the tough jobs in a short time when the draft inducer is turned on, drawing air through the life-giving flames of a dream. The sun has set and the moon is rising over the Buckley show grounds. Engine No. 207 leaves the depot and again ascends the grade of high iron rail. Slow, rhythmic, blasts of steam, echo through the stillness of the night, with the moon’s soft light illuminating the puffy gray ribbon of smoke, trailing, over the Buckley landscape.

Additional Links to Railroad Information

North American Steam Locomotives
446 Railroad Definitions
TrainNet International Railway Links

Made by the Kinnard – Haines Co. Minneapolis, Minn.

Year: 1918

Cylinders: four

H.P.: 40 on the draw bar & 70 on the belt

Bore: 7 1/2″ inch

Stroke: 9″ inch

Weight: 10 1/2 tons

The 40-70 was made from 1910 to 1927

There are only 13 Flour City 40-70 tractors known to exist and this one is one of  two with power steering.

This tractor is owned by The Buckley Old Engine Club.

STEAM TRACTION ENGINE

The Buckley Lantern

“McPherrin’s Folly and Other Steam Traction Engines”

In the winter of 1996, East Jordan resident Tom Graham arrived at the Steam Museum in Hesston, Indiana to pick up a piece of equipment for the Northwest Michigan Engine & Thresher Club. Off in a corner of the Museum, he saw something that stirred his passion for steam like nothing else had ever done: a 1911 Avery 40 Steam Traction Engine. He knew that the engine was one of the largest and most expensive ever built. He also knew its strange history. A week after his visit, he bought it.

Graham refurbished his new prized possession and one morning the following August, he opened the throttle, turned it away from the parade grounds at the Buckley Old Engine Show and steered up a hill along side a nearby railroad track. The machine lurched to a start and lumbered forward, huffing a dense plume of dark smoke through its stack and sweating steam from the bottom of its boiler. The ground sagged under the enormous weight of the great engine as it crawled up the hill; late arrive show goers scrambled from its path and then stood aside to admire its massive mechanical beauty.
The Avery was originally purchased by Nebraska rancher Edward McPherrin to facilitate work on his 6400-acre spread. Although it set him back a hefty $4250.00, more that twice what he might have spent on an engine from other manufacturers, McPherrin abandoned this magnificent piece of equipment on a sandy hilltop after using it only briefly. There it remained for forty years. The rancher, and his sons after him, worked around it as if it didn’t exist. It was never even discussed among them.

(Note: The story, as to the reason why the Avery was abandoned, is that it was too heavy for the sandy hills of Mr. McPherrin’s ranch and became frequently stuck. McPherrin was a wealthy man and felt it was not even worth his time to remove it from where it last became stuck and try to resell the Avery. He was know to abandon many things in this manner.)

Hidden away in a vast ranch and virtually forgotten by its owner, McPherrin’s engine escaped the destiny of other great steamers. Some were worked to death while others were dispassionately dropped into swamps for road fill. Many went to feed the Second World War’s voracious appetite for scrap metal. But the Avery survived. And it did so in remarkably good condition because it was deserted in a relatively dry part of the country. Today it is an exquisitely preserved rarity: the largest of Avery’s under mount engines. The engine’s undercarriage and the spokes of its enormous iron wheels were trimmed in bright red and yellow paint and its boiler rests seven feet above the ground on brightly colored supports and struts.

Large steam traction engines were developed to break up tough prairie sod in the heart of the country. Teams of horses of sixteen or more were not sturdy enough to pull gang plows through dense grasses whose roots were as big as a man’s thumb and grew as deep of six feet into the earth. And the first, relatively small steam traction engines – which were simply adaptations of stationary engines that had been used for threshing wheat and grinning cotton – weren’t much better; they broke down repeatedly under the strain. Elephant power was clearly called for. Thus were born monsters like Graham’s Avery, and equally monumental machines made by other companies like J.I. Case, Huber and Advance-Rumley, that developed power which, translated into human terms, would enable and average man to lift a Jeep Cherokee on his outstretched hand. And thus the steam that had already changed the world of manufacturing was harnessed for agriculture, altering the face of the American farm forever.

By the middle of the Twentieth Century most of the great steam traction engines, once coveted by every prairie farmer from Mississippi to the Rockies a few short decades earlier, had quietly vanished from the American agricultural landscape. Of those that were not melted down and hammered into swords for the war effort or pushed into swamps for road fill, most were simply left to rust and rot in farmyards and barns. Old engine clubs, populated by those who wanted to preserve the history and romance of antique farm equipment, sprouted up around the country.

Those of us who enjoy watching steam equipment at work can thank the members of the Northwest Michigan Engine & Thresher Club, and other clubs like it around the country, for investing their personal time and resources in order to provide us with this wonderful annual event.

1897 16 H.P. Huber owned by Wilbur and Charlie Volkening
Removed from the Pine River flood waters of Tippy Dam in 1959 after 41 years under water (1918-1959).

The story goes something like this:

In the summer of 1917 a sawyer was hired to cut the flood plane for the soon to be finished dam. The sawyer only having the mill and not the engine, hired a man with a Port-Huron steam engine. He worked the man and machine for a period of time without paying him. He then quit leaving the machine on site. Another man and machine was hired who is believed to be Mr. Hank Krit with his Huber. He also was worked for a period of time without payment. The two men got together and filed a suit against the sawyer, and the courts being slow then as they are now this took some time. The two men went back to check on their engines. Neither had another job to go to and had left their engines on location. To their amazement the sawyer had hired a local farmer with a little knowledge of running steam engines. He had hooked one of them up and was running it on the mill. This of course made the men very angry and so they took their connecting rods off their engines. The owner of the Port-Huron put his rod in what they called a fire house which also held other tools and supplies. Mr. Krit took his rod with him.

Some time latter the men found out that the dam was complete and they had started to back water up in the flood plane. What the men found was the mill gone and the fire house burned to the ground along with the Port-Huron connecting rod. Mr. Krit having his rod with him, reinstalled it and steamed his engine up. The ground was already soft and wet and the water still coming up. They only were able to make it about 100 yards toward shore when five teeth broke off the left bull gear. They were all done moving it under its own power. Several teams of horses tried to move the engine but they just couldn’t. The engine was stripped of all brass fittings and any thing that could be carried by hand and was left to be covered by water and silt.

In the fall of 1959 the dam was in need of repairs, and the water was drawn down 15 feet. With the draw down the top part of the Huber stuck out of the water. A contractor in Wellston, Michigan recovered the engine and kept it for 3-4 years. He then traded it to Cole Brothers, a John Deere dealer in Traverse City, Michigan for a piece of equipment. It was on display under the Cole Brothers’ sign in Traverse City until 1969 when Mr. Tom Graham, of East Jordan, Michigan, seeing potential in what was left of the Huber, which was not much, purchased it. He started to search for parts and after many years found out that another 16 horsepower Huber was being scraped out in Cheboygan, Michigan. Tom bought what ever he could which included a governor and several other parts. Tom also located a good 18 H.P. boiler in a machine shop in Greenville Michigan which he knew would work on the 16 H.P. Huber.

During the Boyne City Polish Festival of 1993 Wilbur and Charlie Volkening approached Tom about buying the Huber. He said that he would be willing to sell it, but that they had better look at what they were getting into. They also saw something in the pile of scrape that was about 100 years old. They bought the engine with a borrowed dollar bill from Glen Segraves, on the platform of the Graham’s family 1921 Baker steam engine during the last thrashing run, on Saturday, of the Polish Festival.

They went the following weekend and finished paying for the engine and started hauling it to Wilbur’s shop in Gaylord, Michigan. It took one long day just to get the rear axle apart so as to fit on their trailer. After 4 trips they finally had it home, but what did they have? Well after 350 days in a row, including Christmas and Mothers Day, they just finished putting on the canopy when the truck came to haul it to Buckley, wet paint and all. After the State inspection they fired the engine up and were in the parade on Thursday, August 18, 1994. Both were glad to be in the steam section of the parade for it’s first public showing.