Click to enlargeKyle Massick Photo

Railroad officials weighed how to recover three Boeing 737 fuselages that were dumped into the Clark Fork River in a Montana train derailment that closed the track for much of the day.

Getting the aircraft hulls, which were bound for a Boeing…plant in Renton, Washington, out of the river may take two days, Lynda Frost, a Montana Rail Link spokeswoman, said today. Three additional fuselages also tumbled out of the train July 3 near Rivulet, Montana, and stayed on land.

We’ve never done this before,” Frost said in a telephone interview. “We have a lot of heavy-duty equipment on hand to do this. The plan is to drag them up the bank.”

BNSF Railway…was carrying the fuselages and some assemblies for 777 and 747 aircraft to Boeing’s Renton plant from Spirit Aerosystems…in Wichita, Kansas. Montana Rail Link, a regional railroad company, took control of the train as it crossed Montana, and the accident occurred on MRL’s watch, Frost said.

No one seems to have been injured. Until heads start to roll.

  1. Tim says:

    That’s not MH370.

    $500 fine for littering, so to pay the bill for dumping tires, they photoshopped the surveillance tape and sold it to Bloomberg…

    But wait. There is something about the shape of those planes that is just a little bit different… Yes. Those 737s would fit into the pentagon hole.

  2. NewFormatSux says:

    Looks like the wheels are intact, so can just hook it up to my F150.

  3. bobbo, how can I fly like an eagle when I'm trapped with the turkeys says:

    American infrastructure continues to crumble from lack of safety standards/inspections/enforcement/maintenance.

    I’d a thought that Big Boeing would have gotten its congresscreep to assure that the track for their shipments was actually safe?

    …………I just want the tail numbers of those aircraft. Its “possible” to fix a bent frame, but it hardly ever happens.

    • Tim says:

      “” Its “possible” to fix a bent frame

      Then, you might want to consider the fuselage visible in the foreground for a real bargain fix’r’up’r. {embiggen it} It’d be like a giant flying hippy-bus with waterbeds and bead-stringing stations. Only even less flying and more like the bus because there’s no wings. And even more like a bus with weeds growing out through skeletons scattered about it because guess where the gas tanks were?

      That’s also why you don’t put 429s in unibodies, even though it’s “possible”…

    • Tim says:

      They don’t have any tails. If they did, the second story of the pentagon would have been damaged before it blew up.

      • bobbo, are we Men of Science, or Devo says:

        I’m thinking those bodies look good only for remelting into beer cans.

        I do love beer.

        • Tim says:

          It *might* make a good experimental kind of bobbing-around-aimlessly kind of Nautilus out in international waters, though.

          it’ probably still break in half like an old french bread…

      • B. Dog says:

        Good one. Did you notice how they don’t have any noses, but a nose piece was sitting on the ground after it went through the Pentagon? What’s up with that?

  4. Tim says:

    They look like giant

    Something in the environment may have caused one of those residual godzilla chimera genes to wake up in the Monsanto salmon with the sixpack abs — the trigger was probably global warming.

  5. Claude Lacombe says:

    usually, when pristine-condition aquamarine colored shit like this from the ’50s just starts being delivered rudely, it means that the giant aliens are pissed about embedded spychips in their smart-dildoes.

    • bobbo, we think with words, and flower with ideas says:

      dildoe? Where there’s an acute observation the 50 Foot Woman would approve of……. or my ex.

      • Tim says:

        Obviously, that guy was making a bad joke about the planes out in the desert at the begining of Close Encounters.

        It’s anachronistic, anyways… everyone knows that, in the 50’s, electronic spy circuits were based on vacume tubes {relatively tiny, in something like a giant blue dildoe for the Avatar chicks where 97% of Cyanophobic external observers agree that those which are 95% sure that ‘sometimes, it’s the depth…’ *get some* a good piece more than they do.

        Besides, I’m not sure your gall could take the thermionic emmission from anything so warm.

        • Tim says:

          That is to say, “anything so recently warm”…

          I’m not laughing at prosthetic peters, or anything… Just near them.

      • The Giant Johnson Triplets says:

        they look just like us

  6. King Ding Dong says:

    Here’s a great example of why we MIGHT want to think about our oil and gas drilling companies and their “fracking” procedures. Why, you ask? Because nearly ALL of the employees are the SAME blue collar, big money MORONS! (Pssst! They share the same brain — the bosses!)

    I’m left wondering how F***ING hard is it to SLOW DOWN and keep 2 tracks relatively straight? How F***ING hard is it to direct ONE train in the middle of nowhere?! Ya! Heads should roll. But I’m betting they will be the wrong heads.

    … I bet the other big money blue collar MORONS will try and make useable planes out of these damaged fuselage bodies too. But at least they don’t paint streets on big time taxpayer dollars where the hardest part of their day is to actually show up at 10AM (before their 8-hour coffee break).

  7. Tim says:

    The more I look at those poor, pitiful, ugly fucking color things then the more they remind me of seals.

    Very very sad seals which got caught up in some secret Philadelphia Experiment and subsequently integrated with Civilian Inmate Labor Program Army Regulation 210–35 and Tomas, the little FEMA train that was never really worth a damn but was the only claymation thing they could get for that kid show… whiny little carbon pumper…

    just a few more useless eaters to go, Tomas. Toot Toot..

    I wish we’d had a dollar for each time we’d been down this grade

  8. toys4thoughts says:

    “In summer 1963, the Pregnant Guppy commenced cargo flights for NASA. Among its early duties was transporting the first and second stages of the Gemini program’s Titan II from the Martin Co. in Baltimore, Maryland to Cape Canaveral. As the space program increased through the late 1960s, it became clear that this one aircraft could not carry the whole transport load, and so 25 more Stratocruisers and ex-USAF C-97s were purchased to construct four Super Guppy aircraft, which were even longer and larger than the original.

    The various Guppy aircraft served throughout the 1960s, 1970s, and beyond, initially transporting space components, and later, as NASA scaled down its operations after the success of the Apollo program, transporting airliner sections.”
    You can also mount them on 747’s like the space shuttle. That would not help the train wreck economy though.

  9. John E Quantum says:

    Planes, trains and tracks. An IRL version of rock paper scissors.

  10. Eric says:

    Just open up the front, these would make really cool water slides!

    • Pilot Program says:

      … Or Sasquatch suppositories!

      (Sorry Washington. Looks like you’ll have to find another way to get your public to take it up the bum.)

  11. Bruce says:

    Does that count as a plane crash?

  12. Duh-me says:

    I suspect either insurance scam or stalling on impossible deadline.

  13. Tom says:

    It never ceases to amaze me just how far the Dvorak readership has declined in intelligence and common sense… It is more akin to one of the tabloids in the Supermarket checkout lane these days…

  14. Samolian says:

    That’s what happens, when they try to swim upstream when the creek is low. They beach themselves..

  15. toys4thoughts says:

    Wall Street Killed the Cupcake
    TIME – ‎19 minutes ago‎

    The Crumbs cupcake shop in my neighborhood just shut down. It’s a sad day for the entire sugar industry: Crumbs, a once-growing collection of shops with visions of becoming a national bakery chain, abruptly folded its 65-store operation in 12 states, putting …THE CUPCAKE IS THE PERFECT AIRLINE FOOD. No knife needed to cut, no dishes, kids like it, served by cupcake attendant…SAVE THE CUPCAKE!

  16. toys4thoughts says:

    Crumbs Bake Shop shuts off the ovens
    New York Business Journal – ‎6 hours ago‎

    Business Insider pointed to the HBO television show “Sex and the City” for helping inspire a nationwide cupcake trend when that production featured New York’s Magnolia Bakery in the early 2000s. Crumbs was started in 2003 on the Upper West Side and as …Put travel agents in the empty shops and give away cupcakes and coffee…

  17. toys4thoughts says:

    “It was a hard road to build. The tropical fevers slaughtered the laborers by wholesale. It is a popular saying, that every railroad tie from Panama to Aspinwall rests upon a corpse. It ought to be a substantial road, being so well provided with sleepers — eternal ones and otherwise. It is claimed that this small railroad enterprise cost the lives of 10,000 men. It is possible.

    I have been told some things which I will jot down here, not vouching for their truth. The Panama railroad was an American project, in the first place. Then the English got a commanding interest in it, and it became an English enterprise. They grew somewhat sick of it, and it began to swap back until it became American again. The Americans finished it. It proved a good investment. But the right of way granted by the Colombian States was limited to only a few years. The American tried to get the term extended. But they were not particularly popular with the Governments of the Isthmus, and could not succeed. Delegations of heavy guns were sent down, but they could not prevail. They offered a few millions of dollars and Government transportation free. President Mosquiera declined. The English saw an opportunity, now. They made an effort to secure to themselves the right of way whose term was so soon to expire. They were popular with the Isthmian chiefs. They made the Central Governments some valuable presents — gunboats and such things. They were progressing handsomely. Things looked gloomy for Americans.”

    At least it wasn’t the oil. It can always be worse.

  18. toys4thoughts says:

    “An idea competing for nanotube attention is the space elevator. Nanotubes are so strong that they could form a tether from Earth out past geostationary orbit, if only you could make them 140,000 kilometers long rather than one micron. Climbing up the tether would save massive quantities of rocket fuel and pollution (did you think there was a catalytic convertor on a Proton rocket?) In the best scenario, this idea can be used in a future science fiction movie, it is at least plausible, unlike “warp drive”. Here’s the start of a screen play: a shipment of medical cannabis is needed desperately by the homeless shelter that was once the International Space Station, and the Space Elevator is called to action.”

    That went to pot. There’s more truth in the best fiction than there is in journalism and the best journalists have always know this.

    “” ‘You Connecticut son of a thief! Up to that main truck in a jiffy! You New Hampshire ashcat! shin up that mizzenm’st! Goin’ to stand around here and suck your thumbs all day? What’d I hire you for, you scum, you dirt, you vermin! You in-terior son of a skunk! Aloft with you! I’ll tar your legs off and brain you with ‘em! Hell and furies, ‘pears like a man can’t be master in his own ship!’

    ” ‘And from that day out the howling old nor’wester never called us by no other name but You Connecticut son of a thief! You New Hampshire ash-cat! You in-terior son of a skunk! Never been so tired of a ship since, till they pull this America out of commission for six months, sir! — never, sir, — never in the world, sir. Take my bloody oath of it, sir. You hear Ned Wakeman, sir.”

    The old gentleman told his remarkable dream, and about hanging the negro in the Chincha Islands and about his perilous cruise in a buggy, and about his voyage to the Monkey Islands, and the entertaining legend of the rats of Liverpool, and many other pleasant bits of history and then we bade him goodbye, at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning, and rowed away again.”

  19. toys4thoughts says:

    “Unfortunately, the Y10K calendar issue causes a mishap, sending cars up and down the same tether at the same time, similar to recent terrestrial train incidents. After a space hacker saves the day with his Google glasses, a secret plot to snatch the weed by aliens from the planet Bong goes awry when Space Lassie barks at them….”

    “But I have been playing the noble game of “Muggins.” In that game, if you make a mistake of any kind, however trivial it may be, you are pronounced a muggins by the whole company, with great unanimity and enthusiasm. If you play the right card in the wrong place, you are a muggins; no matter how you play, in nine cases out of ten you are a muggins. They inform you of it with a shout which has no expression in it of regret. I have played this fine game all the evening, and although I knew little about it at first, I got to be quite a muggins at last. I played it very successfully on a policeman as I went home. I had forgotten my night-key and was climbing in at the window. When he clapped his hand on my shoulder, I smiled upon him and, says I, “Muggins!” with much vivacity. Says he, “How so?” and I said, “Because I live here, and you play the wrong card when you arrest me for entering my own house.” I thought it was rather neat. But then there was nobody at home to identify me, and I had to go all the way to the station-house with him and give bail to appear and answer to a charge of burglary. As I turned to depart says he “Muggins!” I thought that was rather neat also.

    But the conundrum I have alluded to in the heading of this article, was the best thing of the kind that has ever fallen under my notice. It was projected by a young man who has hardly any education at all, and whose opportunities have been very meagre, even from his childhood up. It was this: “Why was Napoleon when he crossed the Alps, like the Sanitary cheese at the Mechanics’ Fair?””

    A mechanic is just an engineer in blue jeans. Good luck with Air Force Three or Air Force Tree as the case may be. Ya gotta project there!

  20. toys4thoughts says:

    A better way to haul that sort of cargo.

  21. toys4thoughts says:

    “But as I have said before, it is bound to come! Arrah-na-Pogque is breeding a song that will bedeck some mountain with new-made graves! In another week we shall be “Wearing of the Green, ” and in a fortnight some will be wearing of the black in consequence. Three repetitions of this song will produce lunacy, and five will kill — it is that much more virulent than its predecessors. People are finding it hard to learn, but when they get it learned they will find it potent for harm. It is Wheatleigh’s song. He sings it in Arrah-na-Pogque, with a sprig of shamrock in his hat. Wheatleigh sings it with such aggravated solemnity as to make an audience long for the grave. It is doled out slowly, and every note settles deliberately to its place on one ‘s heart like a solid iceberg — and by the time it is finished the temperature of the theatre has fallen to twenty degrees. Think what a dead-cold winter we shall have here when this Arctic funeral melody becomes popular! Think of it being performed at midnight, in lonely places, upon the spirit depressing accordeon! Think of being driven to blow your brains out under such circumstances, and then dying to the grave-yard cadences of “Wearing of the Green!”

    At least the clean up crews didn’t have to deal with cold and ice and snow. This is a boost for the air cargo industry.

    The NSA can recognise from the group order whether an attack on the curve will be successful (reasonable assumption)

    Was it terrorism? Isis in Montana could be behind it!

  22. What is it? says:

    Three giant ballpoint pens?

    Three giant expensive cigars in metal tubes?

    The wreck of the starship NCC-1701?

  23. toys4thoughts says:

    Ode to Snowden
    New York,
    Feb. 23, 1867.


    I ONLY got over a calamitous cold in the head yesterday, and to-day I felt like the breaking up of a hard winter. I had the blues; and a ceaseless drumming and ringing in the ears; and a deadening oppression of the brain, and a horrible sense of suffocation. The weather was cold, and the gases from the villainous coal fire were stifling. Beside all these little inconveniences, my thoughts persistently ran on funerals and suicide. I was in a fit frame of mind for any desperate enterprise, and with a recklessness that even stirred a sort of dull admiration within me, I resolved to go and take a bath.

    In five minutes I was breasting the frosty wind and ploughing through the soft new snow, and in fifteen I stumbled upon the place where they keep the monster they call the Russian Bath…WHAT SIX YEARS HAVE WROUGHT

    They have increased the population of New York and its suburbs a quarter of a million souls. They have built up her waste places with acres upon acres of costly buildings. They have made five thousand men wealthy, and for a good round million of her citizens they have made it a matter of the closest kind of scratching to get along in the several spheres of life to which they belong. The brown-stone fronter and the rag-picker of the Five Points have about an even thing of it; the times are as hard for one as for the other; both struggle desperately to hold their places, and both grumble and grieve to much the same tune. What advantage there is, though, is all in favor of the rag-picker – he can only starve or freeze, but the other can lose caste, which is worse.

    The old, genuine, travelled, cultivated, pedigreed aristocracy of New York, stand stunned and helpless under the new order of things. They find themselves supplanted by upstart princes of Shoddy, vulgar and with unknown grandfathers. The incomes, which were something for the common herd to gape at and gossip about once, are mere livelihoods now – would not pay Shoddy’s house-rent. They move into remote new streets up town, and talk feelingly of the crash which is to come when the props are knocked from under this flimsy edifice of prosperity. And, to tell the truth, a part of the crash is already here; and the sooner it comes in its might and restores the old, sure, plodding prosperity, the better. Heavy failures are frequent, but people seem to dislike to talk about them – dread the subject, maybe. If everybody goes to Paris in the summer, that movement will not assist any in keeping up the present ruinous prices of living. Government is helping to bring the crash, too. She is drawing all idle capital away from public improvements and other great new enterprises. Her bonds pay better and surer interest than railroad investments, mortgages, etc., and the money is not taxed. People grumble bitterly that they cannot borrow money against such formidable competition as the U. S. Government. Everything is high. That was well enough in war time, when a million men in full employment under Government pay made help scarce and money plenty as dust. But now, with that million discharged, of course help is plenty and money scarce. Yet all hands conspire to keep up prices. No man can afford to be the first to make a move toward lowering the figures.

    You pay twelve hundred dollars rental, now, for the dwelling you used to get for five or six hundred. For a store you pay – well, you pay all you can make, and then turn your stock of goods over to your landlord at the end of the year. One firm here had occupied the same premises many years – a firm of sixty years standing. They used to pay $3,000; during the war the figure went up to $6,000; was raised afterwards to $12,000; this year they were told they must pay $18,000 or move. They moved.

    I for one aint takin a bath on your thieving methods. Now Wall Street has killed the cupcakes. We have lots of fruitcakes though, so not to worry.

  24. jpfitz says:

    Eideard….please help. The blog has been invaded by a termite. Gnawing at the context of this once great blog. Folks are not logging in because of the termite. Please update your determiner.

    • ± says:

      I’m with you jpfitz, except that there is no need to be obsequious (and that is being generous [to the blog]) in your reasoned request.

  25. toys4thoughts says:

    “We leave nature’s noble cliffs and crags undefiled and uninsulted by the advertiser’s paint-brush. We use the back of a king, which is better and properer, and more effective,too, for the cliff stays still and few see it, but the king moves across the fields of the world, and is visible from all points like a constellation. We are out of kings this week, but one will be along soon–possibly his Satanic Majesty of Russia.”

    I love crypto, it tells me what part of the system not to bother attacking—Drew Gross, forensic scientist
    Jailed for unbreakable code? It’s not worth attacking, it’s supposedly evidence. Despotic and moronic.

  26. mainecat says:

    Jolly Green Giant – “That water sure is cold today”

    “.. and deep.”

  27. bogart says: