30 Closed Cab PU
Well-known member
Thanks for sharing your adventure. You have a talent for writing, very interesting.
1931 Mail Truck Adventure
- Thread starter 34Pietenpol
- Start date
Ray in La Mesa
Well-known member
KOOL trip, that's what life is all about!
ShutterThug
Junior Member
Thanks for sharing, great story!
Thank you for the story, and it sounds like a fantastic trip. Plus, looks like a really cool truck!! My grandparents would travel from MD to FLA in a model T when roads were still scarce. She did tell some tales and I saw pics in the past but they are long gone and sadly so are the stories. On an airplane related story, my uncle joined the air corps as a young man also. During his service he flew 'the hump' and also was a pilot during the Berlin airlift.
rfitzpatrick
Well-known member
Just one question: Have you actually needed your Back-Up?
Thanks
Thanks
woofa.express
Well-known member
Synchro909
Well-known member
I started posting a daily blog but it was taken down. I think my reference to the Japanese attack on Darwin and how it was manyu times worse than Pearl Harbour upset some sensitive souls.
I nearly abandonded the Barn but I'll not post a travel blog again, sorry.
34Pietenpol
Member
Ambling east from Bellefonte, PA, the next planned stop would be Mifflinburg, PA to visit the factory where many of the wooden bodies for these US Mail trucks were crafted. Mifflinburg Buggy Works evolved from horse drawn buggies and sleighs to building Depot Hack, Station Wagon, specialty truck beds and eventually US Post Office Mail Trucks. The buggy works became Mifflinburg Body and Gear Company in name but remained in the same turn of the century red brick factory, building for many of the dozens of auto companies that existed before the Depression thinned the ranks. The USPO selected Mifflinburg Buggy Works and York-Hoover in York, PA to craft the wooden bodies for the Model A chassis Ford supplied.
Armed with this little bit of history, we set off, covering the 54 miles in just under 2 hours. The road was an open farm road thru some beautiful PA countryside, made all the more welcome because the Mail Truck and I had survived the careening, groaning, bouncing and straining passage thru the Alleghanies. That's one E-ticket ride I'll avoid repeating. More pleasant scenery as noon passed and churches let out. Amish and Mennonite buggies, single horse-powered and black, peopled with friendly souls headed for Sunday dinner, flooded out onto the edge of this stretch of road. We actually got to pass a couple of them, the only moving conveyances we could. With the front end wandering at will I had to take extra care cutting the arc away from the buggy and back. Waves all around to our fellow antiquers. They, firmly shrouded in centuries-old traditions that follow a strict path of righteousness. This lapsed and careless old soul and his wayward Mail Truck, both over 70 years gone. Still, we antiques must have felt some kinship if only in passing.
Good fortune protected the factory at Mifflinburg Body and Gear even while progress and economics abandoned them. Closed by the mid-fifties, the building went thru several businesses until recently. A local family with construction company ties took on the restoration, converting the original factory into the Rusty Rail Brew Pub. These folks have class, did a great job with the restoration and serve great beers and top notch food. Our Sunday afternoon visit found us surrounded by patrons enjoying the wonderful atmosphere. The Mail Truck and I pulled into parking right at the front door - an unexpected reward for us both. While she dripped oil, Steve and I headed for the patio and a meal. Their signature IPA was too good to pass up so we didn't. The waitresses took photos of themselves in the Mail Truck while we tucked into brisket and other delights. I'll [post a couple more photos of this magnificent place. Then we have to hit the road.
Armed with this little bit of history, we set off, covering the 54 miles in just under 2 hours. The road was an open farm road thru some beautiful PA countryside, made all the more welcome because the Mail Truck and I had survived the careening, groaning, bouncing and straining passage thru the Alleghanies. That's one E-ticket ride I'll avoid repeating. More pleasant scenery as noon passed and churches let out. Amish and Mennonite buggies, single horse-powered and black, peopled with friendly souls headed for Sunday dinner, flooded out onto the edge of this stretch of road. We actually got to pass a couple of them, the only moving conveyances we could. With the front end wandering at will I had to take extra care cutting the arc away from the buggy and back. Waves all around to our fellow antiquers. They, firmly shrouded in centuries-old traditions that follow a strict path of righteousness. This lapsed and careless old soul and his wayward Mail Truck, both over 70 years gone. Still, we antiques must have felt some kinship if only in passing.
Good fortune protected the factory at Mifflinburg Body and Gear even while progress and economics abandoned them. Closed by the mid-fifties, the building went thru several businesses until recently. A local family with construction company ties took on the restoration, converting the original factory into the Rusty Rail Brew Pub. These folks have class, did a great job with the restoration and serve great beers and top notch food. Our Sunday afternoon visit found us surrounded by patrons enjoying the wonderful atmosphere. The Mail Truck and I pulled into parking right at the front door - an unexpected reward for us both. While she dripped oil, Steve and I headed for the patio and a meal. Their signature IPA was too good to pass up so we didn't. The waitresses took photos of themselves in the Mail Truck while we tucked into brisket and other delights. I'll [post a couple more photos of this magnificent place. Then we have to hit the road.
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34Pietenpol
Member
Miles to go before we sleep... This was by far the longest day in both miles covered and driving time. The stop in Mifflinburg was the last planned destination in the southbound run. All miles from now on were slotted for getting home in one piece. Any diversions from now would have to be serendipitous.
I might want to caution against a noon IPA under these circumstances, especially if you have a weak clutch and/or bladder. Fortunately, this Mail Truck has a great clutch. One out of two isn't so bad. Even so, shifting seemed a bit more uncoordinated, the up and down double-clutching took a more measured determination. Screw it up and the old girl gnashed her teeth at me.
As we were leaving the Body Works the day manager came out, giving us an opportunity to share the Post Office truck history with his building. Something he wasn't aware of up until then. Spreading the joy!
The road travelled the next 5 hours or so took us directly to the Susquehanna River and US11 South, the single road path we would take almost straight to our home. It's called the Old Valley Pike where we are, surpassed many decades ago by Interstate 81, as were the many small villages and towns that grew up on Route 11. We, unlike the semi's and speeders racing the interstate, were to spend many hours puttering from town to town at around 30 mph. Not a problem on Sunday afternoon but it did cause some discomfort for commuters on Monday. Hey, we're retired, this old buggy and I. Not a worry here! Mifflinburg to Harrisburg where Steve and his F-150 left me for Northern Virginia. Trusty Scout and pit crew, ace navigator and source of lots of laughs had to bail because of job commitments on Monday. Still, we had a great mini-vacation/adventure over the weekend that should hang in our memories for a week or so. Or until another great brew pub damages the brain cells.
Solo now, we motored thru Chambersburg and other burgs similarly named for their founders. Either that or all these folks' last names ended in 'burg'. By Shippensburg both of us were pooped, clouds were building and the sun was getting low. Found a nice motel and called it a long day. We had covered over 240 miles this Sunday in about 12 hours (including stops) yet we still hadn't cleared south of PA. An easy 150 mile to go on Monday.
I might want to caution against a noon IPA under these circumstances, especially if you have a weak clutch and/or bladder. Fortunately, this Mail Truck has a great clutch. One out of two isn't so bad. Even so, shifting seemed a bit more uncoordinated, the up and down double-clutching took a more measured determination. Screw it up and the old girl gnashed her teeth at me.
As we were leaving the Body Works the day manager came out, giving us an opportunity to share the Post Office truck history with his building. Something he wasn't aware of up until then. Spreading the joy!
The road travelled the next 5 hours or so took us directly to the Susquehanna River and US11 South, the single road path we would take almost straight to our home. It's called the Old Valley Pike where we are, surpassed many decades ago by Interstate 81, as were the many small villages and towns that grew up on Route 11. We, unlike the semi's and speeders racing the interstate, were to spend many hours puttering from town to town at around 30 mph. Not a problem on Sunday afternoon but it did cause some discomfort for commuters on Monday. Hey, we're retired, this old buggy and I. Not a worry here! Mifflinburg to Harrisburg where Steve and his F-150 left me for Northern Virginia. Trusty Scout and pit crew, ace navigator and source of lots of laughs had to bail because of job commitments on Monday. Still, we had a great mini-vacation/adventure over the weekend that should hang in our memories for a week or so. Or until another great brew pub damages the brain cells.
Solo now, we motored thru Chambersburg and other burgs similarly named for their founders. Either that or all these folks' last names ended in 'burg'. By Shippensburg both of us were pooped, clouds were building and the sun was getting low. Found a nice motel and called it a long day. We had covered over 240 miles this Sunday in about 12 hours (including stops) yet we still hadn't cleared south of PA. An easy 150 mile to go on Monday.
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34Pietenpol
Member
Tarps and bungees are handy tools when motorcar worries include termites. The overnight rain brought in a cold front and clouds in the morning but the local WX girl promised clearing and cool as she flounced in front of her green screen.
Off into rush hour traffic at sunrise and along mostly rolling hills, just an occasional second gear grind up long pulls. Cars and trucks passing would get right by my open door ear and honk their blaring encouragement, scaring the pants off us. You see, the door was open because the left rear view mirror was the only way of knowing who and what was parked on the rear bumper. And the mirror support arm was loose, allowing the mirror to vibrate downhill every few minutes. Keeping the door open allowed me to reach out and lift the mirror, revealing all that was and some that wished we never were. Still, by mid-morning the traffic had thinned and we felt less guilt at holding up PA commerce.
Finally got to Mile Zero in PA, crossing into WVA over the C&O Canal lying idle along the Potomac River. A Park and long distance bike trail now where once mules pulled trade barges from Cumberland, MD all the way to the Nation's Capital. A rough road bridge took us across the Potomac into WVA and her rolling hills then a short passage thru MD around Hagerstown. Finally we hit Virginia above Winchester.
By this time the piston slap was getting worrisome and we ran into our first overheating episode. I attributed it to the slow grind thru the many small villages encountered. Stopped for an hour to cool things down, added a bit of water collected at a Chick-Fil-A back door. Very helpful staff there! The clutch was also feeling the pain from shifting every few minutes. Or maybe it was just my left leg... Still, crossing into the fresher air of VA lifted both our spirits - the overheating went away and that solid iron engine kept clattering along, making great power along with the noise.
Off into rush hour traffic at sunrise and along mostly rolling hills, just an occasional second gear grind up long pulls. Cars and trucks passing would get right by my open door ear and honk their blaring encouragement, scaring the pants off us. You see, the door was open because the left rear view mirror was the only way of knowing who and what was parked on the rear bumper. And the mirror support arm was loose, allowing the mirror to vibrate downhill every few minutes. Keeping the door open allowed me to reach out and lift the mirror, revealing all that was and some that wished we never were. Still, by mid-morning the traffic had thinned and we felt less guilt at holding up PA commerce.
Finally got to Mile Zero in PA, crossing into WVA over the C&O Canal lying idle along the Potomac River. A Park and long distance bike trail now where once mules pulled trade barges from Cumberland, MD all the way to the Nation's Capital. A rough road bridge took us across the Potomac into WVA and her rolling hills then a short passage thru MD around Hagerstown. Finally we hit Virginia above Winchester.
By this time the piston slap was getting worrisome and we ran into our first overheating episode. I attributed it to the slow grind thru the many small villages encountered. Stopped for an hour to cool things down, added a bit of water collected at a Chick-Fil-A back door. Very helpful staff there! The clutch was also feeling the pain from shifting every few minutes. Or maybe it was just my left leg... Still, crossing into the fresher air of VA lifted both our spirits - the overheating went away and that solid iron engine kept clattering along, making great power along with the noise.
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34Pietenpol
Member
The last stanza:
Rolling south on US11 and into my favorite part of this great land - the Shenandoah Valley. Monday afternoon, getting warm out and hotter still inside but it mattered little as we were now covering miles long familiar and friendly. Anything could happen now without ruffling feathers or disturbing the earth's balance. Just outside of our town lies the Meems Bottom Bridge, a century-old wooden crossing over the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. Since it was only a few feet off US11, we had to make the run thru it for a photo op. Ten miles to go.
Arrived home and the Mail Truck and I both sighed to a halt in the driveway. My wife was there to greet us so I threw here into the driver's seat. At 5'4" she was much better sized for that seat than I. People were both smaller and tougher back then, that's for sure.
The future includes some paint work, keeping the Post Office olive drab and cream standards but re-signing this to reflect its Air Mail heritage with me. We'll putt putt to lunch in town and make the local parades this year. Eventually the engine will need a visit to Schwalms, definitely before we head out on another long haul together. Still, she sure proved her guts to me on this long run and I'll forever remember the adventure.
I know this is not one of the original old Post Office Mail Trucks however she showed the same rugged determination that took those trucks over millions of miles delivering the mail from 1929 well into the early 1950's. The PO then auctioned the fleet for use as parts bins and farm trucks in Post-War America. By the 1960's and 70's Model A folks were digging them out from behind barns and out of scrap yards. Today, only a few exist and fewer still drive our roads and highways. I plan to share the passenger seat with anyone willing simply to show what early life was like. I do believe that's a Model A owners' obligation and tradition.
Rolling south on US11 and into my favorite part of this great land - the Shenandoah Valley. Monday afternoon, getting warm out and hotter still inside but it mattered little as we were now covering miles long familiar and friendly. Anything could happen now without ruffling feathers or disturbing the earth's balance. Just outside of our town lies the Meems Bottom Bridge, a century-old wooden crossing over the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. Since it was only a few feet off US11, we had to make the run thru it for a photo op. Ten miles to go.
Arrived home and the Mail Truck and I both sighed to a halt in the driveway. My wife was there to greet us so I threw here into the driver's seat. At 5'4" she was much better sized for that seat than I. People were both smaller and tougher back then, that's for sure.
The future includes some paint work, keeping the Post Office olive drab and cream standards but re-signing this to reflect its Air Mail heritage with me. We'll putt putt to lunch in town and make the local parades this year. Eventually the engine will need a visit to Schwalms, definitely before we head out on another long haul together. Still, she sure proved her guts to me on this long run and I'll forever remember the adventure.
I know this is not one of the original old Post Office Mail Trucks however she showed the same rugged determination that took those trucks over millions of miles delivering the mail from 1929 well into the early 1950's. The PO then auctioned the fleet for use as parts bins and farm trucks in Post-War America. By the 1960's and 70's Model A folks were digging them out from behind barns and out of scrap yards. Today, only a few exist and fewer still drive our roads and highways. I plan to share the passenger seat with anyone willing simply to show what early life was like. I do believe that's a Model A owners' obligation and tradition.
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30 Closed Cab PU
Well-known member
Thanks for sharing, what an adventure. You did not mention it, assume you will fix the steering soon.
woofa.express
Well-known member
that was great 34 Pietenpol. I enjoyed reading it.
You made 240 miles in 12 hours. I like honesty. there are more lies told of crop yields, size of fish, especially ones that got away and the speeds of Model A's. cheers, gary
You made 240 miles in 12 hours. I like honesty. there are more lies told of crop yields, size of fish, especially ones that got away and the speeds of Model A's. cheers, gary
awesome job thanks for sharing your adventures