This journey traces our electrical power to its source – in three parts.
Parts one and two follow the journey from our home in northern New Jersey, to just below the New York State line where this image was taken. A connection with this 138,000 volt transmission line and the moon will be noted at the end of this post.From our neighborhood ….along the local distribution grid …and through two sub-stations, we follow about seven miles to where it comes in from New York State, from the north. A few miles further, these towers meet up with others at a significantly larger sub-station which fans transmission lines out in several directions. A primary “incoming” feed, is seen below.Probabaly in the 345,000 to 500,000 volt range, the cables on these structures carry serious loads, coming into the sub-station shown in the previous photo,Here is a close-up of two cables bonded together, presumedly at the same alternating current phase, …for those of you who worry about such things. Each is about a closed fist in diameter and insulated only by the air. The larger spiral wires simply hold the cables to the brace.Heading south (right in this image,) over hills and valleys from Tomkins Cove, these imposing mono poles transfer the power lines from the western end of the trans-Hudson span (out of sight to the left.) The frame transmission tower in the background is not directly related. Standing some 475 feet (148 m) high and separated by nearly a mile (1.6 km,) these towers carry 500,000 volts or more across the Hudson River….The top hand railing seen in both the photo above and those below indicate scale: about 4 feet (1.2 m) high. Note the relative size of the insulators!
About a mile (1.6 km) left of the eastern tower are the two reactor domes of the Indian Point Nuclear Generating Plant, in Buchanan, New York.The magnetic-induction generators within, produce a three phase AC potential of several thousand volts, which is immediatly STEPPED-UP through transformers to the half million to 750,000 volt conductors exiting the plant. The lines coming out of the building just right of center, and to the transmission tower behind, mark the start of the transmission lines traced by this series. Others feed Westchester County and parts of NYC… with significant presence also on the North-East U.S. regional grid.Technically: Inside Indian Point. An alternating current is produced in three phases, induced in coils of wire moving in strong magnetic fields within these generators. Relative movement must occur between the magnet assemblies and the coiled wires. The resulting electromotive force is measured in volts, and leaves the generator first at a few thousand, then stepped up, via powerful transformers, to 500,000 to 750,000 volts for transmission… and for our use, sent across the Hudson River!The relative movement mentioned above is provided by a shaft directly connected to a steam turbine that spins the magnets, (or visa versa, the coils,) within the generator. Technical Morass Follows: The steam is is produced in a kettle in which Hudson River water is heated via a water exchanger. That water, which is in a closed system, and highly pressurized, surrounds the reactor vessel where a form of slightly enriched uranium dioxide is fissioned by neutrons (usually under initial coaxing,) releasing heat energy and more neutrons to sustain a controled chain reaction. Spltting atoms! Uranium “pellets” are bundled as fuel-rod assemblies within the reactors core. Basic Summary: Simply, heat energy from unranium fission heats river water to make steam that turns the turbines that spin the coils (or magnets) in the generator, producing the dance of electrons –>electricity!The rods that fuel the reaction in the reactor’s core is comprised of compressed uranium dioxide pellets, which in turn is processed from uranium – a naturally occuring element in the earth’s crust. Above is a rock sample containing uranium. It is likely this is also part of the moon’s geologic make-up. (Remember the moon?)FINALLY, (Thank Goodness,) naturally occuring uranium and the earth itself, with its myraid forms of latent energy, originated as a spin off from our sun 4.5 billion years ago. For now, and for the purpose of this project, the source of my warmed toast, is…the Sun. It’s all amazing, and amazing how we naturally take the science, (physics, chemistry etc.,) and resourceful human ingenuity …for granted!
Disclaimer: Not being an electrical engineer or public utility employee, some values may be slightly different than stated, but should give a general idea of the actual grid and electrical generation. Any “system” or statistical corrections will be most appreciated.
With the exception of the I.P.Generator, the diagram and the uranium ore above, all photos in this series were taken by myself. General information, and those three photos are greatly apprieciatiated and obtained from various sources, including the internet. Additional information about this is available if requested.
As usual, thanks for viewing, and comments are always welcome. M:-)
January 22, 1965, 8:30 PM. I was all of 18 years old and casually asked my father if I could borrow the car to go to the “bridge.” He was okay with that, as the GWB was only about 12 miles away; but would soon discover that my intentions were a little more ambitious and the bridge in question was actually in Niagra Falls, NY, some 400 miles away. I loved the recent liberation of being a licensed driver and anticipation of seeing and experiencing new adventures. I was also very aware that a winter snowstorm was intensifying over western New York State and consequently about to learn winter driving skills that would last throughout my life.
Short on time? Just browse the images below.
Google Map: Mostly secondary and tertiary roads from Northern New Jersey to Niagara Falls between 8:30 PM and 8:00 AM, with significant overnight snow. Few divided highways except the NY State Thruway existed at the time.
There are no photos of the night. I had no boots, no gloves, no sense and no ambition to try and take pictures of featureless, blowing whiteness at night. There were few “interstate” roads, and I scoffed at the idea of paying money for THE toll road, the NY State Thruway. So it was secondary and tertiary roads with little traffic all night, except for snowplows, a few trucks, an amusing Corvair, and speeding Cadillac. I hated it when snowplows passed me – made me feel inadequate and messed up my windshield!
Snow had begun falling about 150 miles up Rt. 17 before midnight and began accumulating rapidly. Around 3:00 AM I pulled into a deserted rest area just past Corning, my tires clogging and squeaking to a stop in the deepening snow. An hour later, with chattering teeth, I wiped the fresh snow off the car, rocked it to get some traction, and plowed my way out to Rt. 17.
Coming through Buffalo, I had no idea where this “Sky Way” went, and after I drove over it, I still didn’t know. (NOTE: These photos were all taken after daylight, offset time-wise with the text.) Snow drifts along the Niagara River. Canada is in the distance. My sneaker-clad footprints on the left!Rear wheel drive; a weak defroster; a terrible automatic “Slide-O-Matic” transmission or something, … a perfect learning machine.
Around 280 miles into the trip, 4:30 AM, I was on Rt 15, a two lane highway now heading north following the tracks of a patrol car who in turn was following a truck in heavy snow all doing about 30 MPH (48 km/hr.) Coming down a hill, still behind them, I cleverly decided to drop the car into low gear to slow down, and promptly spun out, sliding sideways in a panic. I quickly (yeah, right, like skillfully??? I was only 18! …okay, I luckily) got the car under control by putting it back into drive, just one of many lessons learned tonight.
I called my father from this “bridge,” actually a relatively new observation tower, overlooking Niagara Falls, and reluctantly paid $.50 to park in an empty snow covered lot. A lesson in local fiscal “rigidity.” I suppose I could have refused and gone back home.
Continuing in the snowy night, Rt. 15 heads west at the little town of Springwater in the western Finger Lakes region. There really was no town there, at least I couldn’t see anything. Rt 15a continued straight. I took 15 because it was a short-cut, and in a half mile came to a gradual hill. As I continued the climb, the wheels started to lose traction until I …stopped forward motion. So I backed slowly and very carefully down the hill while learning more lessons… this time about simple coeficient of friction and its relation to losing traction and then forward motion! (I was struggling thru Physics I class at this time, after all!) This “experiment” was tested several times before a guy in a light truck stopped and suggested sarcastically that I wait for dawn and the snowplows. Instead, I scoffed, imagined hearing him utter something offensive about kids, and, after backing down the hill for the third time took the longer and flatter Rt 15a.
Desolate, frigid, and awesome! The American part of Niagara Falls.
A few miles north was Rt 20a, just a simple, two lane east-west, single path roadway in the shadow of the New York State Thruway, a half dozen miles north. In the pre-dawn snow storm, this was an interesting stretch – heavy snow falling, the long white un-plowed lane in the headlights of the car. For a while I was following a small Corvair. On the sides of the two tire tracks were about 8 or 9 inches (20 -23 cm) of snow. Occasionally, he would swerve into the deep snow throwing a white-out cloud of powder over the Buick.
While on 20a, the sky started to brighten, not very much, speading an eerie blueness over the landscape. Snow was coming down as hard as ever. There were several modest hills, some with larger trucks trapped before the summits. I needed to keep strongly focused with the car square in the tracks. Not too much later, a large Cadillac whooshed by at about 60 Mph (100 KM.Hr,) scaring the hell out of me with a blinding cloud of snow engulfing my car in its wake.
Goat Island, in the distance, is located between the American Falls, and Canadian Falls beyond.
I eventually came into the town of Lancaster around 7 AM, found some breakfast, and then to Niagra Falls after going through near deserted Buffalo. Later in the day, I would car-surf on “waves” of snow drifts along a road skirting the southern edge of Lake Ontario; stop and skitter up in my white sneakers across high drifts and stinging gale winds to catch a glimpse of the lake – its just barely visible shoreline marked by enormous blocks of ice showered with angry, spraying wind-blown waves of frigid water.
The long day ended that night, me sleeping well at an $8 motel in Bath, NY, 658 miles since beginning. Part of that afternoon was not without more adventures, but that will be noted on a short follow-up post including information about the camera and photos. I was back to New Jersey on the following day, after a total of 967 miles.
The Canadian Falls. Getting this picture was another challange as the mist from the falls froze hard to things like the car windows while I was outside walking to the edge. Bare fingers began to loose feeling on the cold metallic SLR camera.
Off-line for about 2 weeks, (vacation, some minor unrelated surgery,) …now back to share some images from a most impressive Atlantic Ocean seascape, danced with mist, choreographed by unusually cool temperatures over the warm waters of Florida’s North-East coast.
(Below is a re-post, originally published here on November 17th 2013 only to be lost in cyberspace 2 months later.)
Recently, a friend and I walked across the 1.28-mile (2.06 km) Poughkeepsie (NY) Bridge; built in 1889 as the first railroad crossing over the Hudson River south of Albany. A magnificent and immensely important structure for its time, its use was abandoned almost 40 years ago. Through “adaptive re-use” it was re-opened to the public in 2009 as a historic state park, now attracting 750,000 visitors a year.
As seen in this Google view, the “Walkway on the Hudson State Historic Park,” is a mile or so north of the “Mid-Hudson” automobile suspension bridge, connecting the town of Highlands with the city of Poughkeepsie since 1930.
The bridge is about 65 miles north of New York City. (Map from Wikipedia)
Railroad tracks have been replaced by a wide, pleasant pedestrian walkway, accommodating people, children, babies, cats, dogs, bikes …….
Built and re-strengthened as the weight of the freight trains increased, the structure is another testament to 18th century engineering. However… underneath, it certainly shows it’s legacy.
The scenery from its deck is awesome, especially in the fall.
The view to the North
As seen from the eastern end, the spectacular Hudson is winding north, with the Catskill Mountains in the distance.
Historic plaques, information boards, and even smart-phone connectivity to points of interest via apps, are available across the span.
Please click or finger stretch the images for full resolution, and comments are always welcomed. Thanks
Original Comments:
From Maggie: “Lovely photos that make me want to plan a weekend jaunt. I think this would be just as perfect as the trees peek spring green, not just peak in the fall. You captured the autumns colors at their apex.”
M: “Thanks Maggie. We hit it right as besides the folliage, it was just a nice day. Wind and cold can be brutal up there. M”
From Sherri: “Wow, amazing views M! Beautiful autumn colours but so high up, I think I would not like that part as I don’t like heights one bit! Very interesting post about this longest footbridge in the world!
I haven’t been on my laptop for a few days so it’s taken me a while to get round to everyone, sorry about that! Don’t worry if you ‘do’ awards but I just wanted to thank you for being so supportive of my blog and reading my posts. It means a great deal to me.
Have a great day :-)”
M: “Thanks for the comment Sherri, and also for the nomination. By choice I don’t follow thru with the process, but that doesn’t diminish my sincere appreciation. Your writing is an inspiration, not only for its quality, but content. It’s a pleasure to follow your passion. ”
Sherri: “Ahh, many thanks M, that’s so kind. I knew you didn’t do awards, it’s fine, but I couldn’t not nominate you as I do so much enjoy reading your blog too :-)”
Many years ago, I spent idle time at work, figuring where one would have to be to see the sun rise directly behind the Empire State Building. This morning, I braved the 14 deg, weather, ice and snow to do it again. I missed.
The quarter-mile path to the exact spot was choked with snow and closed.
However, below is the original, a little lacking in sharpness as I shot through a monocular back in the (gulp!) seventies!
With yet another snow storm due tomorrow night, I think I’ll wait for next year to try again.
Images from Eagle Rock Reservation, West Orange, New Jersey
It’s January 15th, 2014, and winter is beginning to bother me! So I thought about a Sunday day trip we enjoyed last fall, when a half dozen “top ten” days were painting the NYC skyline day after day with breathtaking clarity and brilliance…
(For best un-cropped results and full resolution, click on the images.)
Arriving at the “Battery” from the Staten Island Ferry
Buildings of the World Financial Center
From the Governor’s Island Ferry, a surreal High “HDR” landscape view of Lower Manhattan
On Governor’s Island
Of Governor’s Island (left) with the sun playing on three major East River suspension bridges beyond. Can you name them, and the large building to the left?
And finally, cruising south by ferry, looking back at the iconic old and new skyscrapers, followed smartly by none other than the stately RMS Queen Mary 2
