Ballast

I've been doing some track ballasting and adding a little texture to the flat parts of the land with sand. For ballast I mixed Woodland Scenics light brown, brown, and light grey ballasts in about equal proportions. I didn't want the ballast to be too grey as I wanted the flat areas to have an overall light brown tone, but some grey was needed to pull these areas together with the grey mountains. I can see a few areas I'll need to go back and add a little more ballast, and some washes will need to be applied to do a little colour correction.

But, more importantly, I feel I'm at a stage where I need to add a few man-made structures to get a sense of how the human scale is developing. Conventional wisdom would say to finish all the scenic work first, but I want to see what the big picture is looking like before I get too far along.

Getting the bolts and links fixed

"Was gonna have the other eye castrated, but now I find they gotta search around among my entrails to find a missing bolt or link or something. This has been the year of one damned thing or another but hell, 1976 is just around the corner."

from a letter E. L. Moore wrote to Model Railroader editor, Russ Larson, dated 19 October 1975 informing Larson of the delay to his second cataract surgery. 

Unlike Mr. Moore, I'll be getting my second eye done soon, which means posts here will dry up for awhile. 

In the meantime I'll leave you with some legendary Wheatfield Soul:

Artz lumber sheds

Over the past few weeks I've been working on the lumber shed portion of Art Curren's kit-mingling project, Artz Lumber Co.. Even though I've written about some aspects of Curren's projects, especially his connection with E. L. Moore, I've never actually worked on one of his builds. In 2023 I came up with an idea for a little diorama that would feature E. L. Moore's Cal's Lumberyard project and the lumber sheds from Curren's Artz Lumber Co.. This gave me an excuse for attempting a Curren build.

Partial building arrangement for the diorama. Cal's lumber yard is on the left

I've always had mixed feelings about Art Curren's kit-mingling projects, well, kit-mingling projects in general. On the one hand I admire the creativity, ingenuity, and skill Curren brought to these projects, and by all accounts he seemed to be a decent guy. On the other hand I have this feeling that the real purpose of these projects was simply to boost kit sales. For example, if one were to build Artz Lumber exactly as specified in the article one would need 3 Atlas lumberyard kits and 2 AHM farmhouse kits (1 complete one and the back wall from the second). Ok, so a longtime kit-mingler might have pieces of these kits in his stash leftover from other projects, but if not, this seems like a lot of kits.

But, that being said, I like the look of the tall shed / short shed structure. So, maybe the point of Curren's projects was: if the reader took a liking to one they'd give it a try, and maybe it would spark an interest in making custom buildings of their own design. Well, I'd like to think that was the point.

Pieces for the tall shed. Lower back wall piece has had its top details sawn off

As I've mentioned before, you'll need to use the kit's instructions and get a copy of Curren's article for the full details on how to build this project (Model Railroader magazine, Dec '86, or Art Curren's 1988 book, Kitbashing HO Model Railroad Structures). All I'm going to do here is provide some commentary on construction, and fill in some missing details.

You know, while I was making my way through the article I got the impression Curren started the project thinking it would be rather straightforward, but as things moved along found that was not going to be the case. Then, since he was faced with a limited page-count and deadline, had to rush and compromise a bit to get finished. I can't prove any of that of course, it's just a feeling from trying to follow the instructions and photos of what turned out to be a rather tricky build.

Use a razor saw to cut the lower walls to the correct height

Normally when building a plastic kit I discard the base, or cut it back so only the foundation is used. Not on this project. You need that base projection on the left side - the foundation for the little yellow office in the box stock build - for the breezeway between the two sheds, and to help secure the little shed to the tall one. This being the case I just kept the entire base as is and figured I'd blend it into the layout when the time came. Curren notes in his article that he initially cut off this base projection, but later realized he'd need to reattach it for the breezeway.

Upper and lower wall fit isn't too bad

When I work on these retro-projects I sometimes see myself as investigating the ways of model construction of the past. It's one thing to read the old articles or contemplate a kit's parts, but it's another thing entirely to build something as its originator meant it to be built, and dealing with the intersection of then and now along with your own model building desires and objectives. 

Apparently this way of learning by attempting to create objects as their creator did isn't uncommon in the art world. For example, in this paragraph Arthur Danto in his book, what art is, mentions how the artist Mike Bidlo made replicas of Andy Warhol's famous Brillo boxes to understand the entire process of bringing them to life:

"A 2005 work by the Appropriationist Mike Bidlo looks as much like Warhol's Box as the latter looks like supermarket Brillo boxes. Bidlo's denote all the 1964 Brillo Boxes, and this is worth noting. He did what he did because he wanted to understand what went into making them just as he replicated some Jackson Pollocks in order to learn what was involved in a real Jackson Pollack."

I'm doing a bit of that, but let's get back to the business of practical Artz appreciation to delve deeper.

Right wall with details ground off and roof mounting holes filled

The end wall that would have butted up against the AHM farmhouse Curren used as an office is made from 2 Atlas right end walls with the detail associated with the cutting table ground off. Curren's wall didn't have a lower portion as the office's back wall filled that role. This allowed the lower Atlas wall to be used as the front wall on the short shed. So, I had to scratch build a front wall for the short shed from a piece of Evergreen's styrene clapboard siding - more on that later. Also, I should have left the detail on the lower wall as weeks later I decided to include the cutting table and the detail would have been nice to have.

Next was to install the 3 interior open frame walls that hold up the top lumber rack in the lower level. A box stock build would use only 2 of these walls, so the 3rd had to come from another kit. These walls have to be shortened, and I found it rather tricky to get all 3 trimmed so that the top floor is nice and level. It's a trial-and-error job. There's a good diagram in the article that shows how all this fits together, but it doesn't tell you how fiddly the job is.

The interior is painted with Tamiya XF-57, Buff, acrylic, and some wear on the floor boards was brushed on with Tamyia XF-10, Flat Brown, acrylic. Curren mentions he painted the interiors after all construction was done and it almost ended in disaster. He sprayed the interior with a mixture of Pactra Light Earth and mineral spirits, which ended up softening several of the thinner pieces. He noted that if there was a next time he'd use a water-based paint. So, using Tamiya acrylic seemed a good choice in honouring Curren's hard won lesson. Colour-wise though, I chose my colours to match those used for Cal's Lumberyard.

The pencil line marks where the platform is cut for the step down to the opening

I started the top floor by installing the upper platform, which is a box stock lower platform that has had its sides and bottom notched to accommodate the floor's framing.

Notches that need cutting on the bottom of the platform

You see that pencil line I've drawn on the platform's top surface? You have to cut the platform apart there to form a step down to the opening in the back wall.This step is noted in the article, but only glancingly. 

The upper level lumber rack walkway made from Evergreen clapboard siding

You also need to make an internal walkway for the upper level. I used some scraps of Evergreen clapboard siding sanded down to nearly flat. I believe the material is 0.040" thick. The article mentions the walkway, and shows it in the exploded assembly diagram, but doesn't show a photo of it assembled and installed ...

The two walkways are installed

... so here it is! Also shown in the above photo is the upper level frame wall at the front - which also has to be shorted to get it to fit - and the floor framework from a second kit. 

Upper level is finished

The upper level doesn't have much vertical framework, and I'd think on the real thing the roof wouldn't be properly supported. Well, once the roof is on the model this fact isn't readily apparent, so let's move on.

A clearer view of the step in the upper level loading dock

The step in the opening in the upper level is a bit clearer in the above photo. The shed's exterior was painted with Revell Aqua Color #36139, Dark green matte, to match Cal's Lumberyard.

You know, that upper level opening strikes me as weird. Ok, look, I like the look of the structure, but I question the practicality of having what amounts to a loading dock way up there. Maybe these sorts of arrangements actually existed at one time, I don't know. However, it's going to make for an interesting scene on the diorama as long as I don't fret over things like utility and safety :-)

Left: 1960s kit box | Right: Current box

Just one more thing about utility since I'm digressing. When I first started to wonder about how the building was to be used I naturally consulted the kit's box top art for clues. 

The '60s box at least gives a hint about use. You can see a freight car loaded with lumber peeking out from just behind the building on the right side of the box suggesting lumber comes in by train and is loaded into the shed at the back of the building. Out front there's a buyer picking up material with his pickup truck. Off to the side is the cutting station. The box top art, as well as being a nice little illustration, also shows you how the building might be used on your layout. 

The current box top, although showing exactly what the finished model looks like if built straight from the kit without embellishment, tells nothing about the building and how to use it. It's just plopped into the middle of some generic greenery. Close examination shows the model to be rather crudely assembled which I guess goes hand-in-hand with the overall crudely designed box art. I can't imagine plastic model kits of cars, planes, or tanks being sold with such poor box art. The kit itself is not bad - not great, but not bad, good for beginners - and I'd think revamped box art, and maybe updated instructions too, would revitalize this old thing and make it more attractive to potential buyers.

With the tall shed completed I moved onto building the short one. The first job is to cut the walkway portion from the back wall.

And while the razor saw was out I cut off the ends off the base. On the left side one of those small yellow sheds is going to butt up against the wall, and on the right the wall is going to form one side of the breezeway with the tall shed.

As I noted earlier I had to make a new front wall because I used two kit side walls on the right side of the tall shed instead of just one as Curren specified, which meant I was one wall short for this project. My front wall is cut from a piece of Evergreen styrene clapboard siding - the same used on the office for Cal's Lumberyard. It's trimmed with some 0.040" square styrene strips. 

I added a floor cut from a piece of 0.040" thick plain styrene sheet into which I scribed floor boards. I also added some 0.040" square studs to the inside of the front wall so it looked like there was a little detail there if someone peeked in the upper openings on the back wall.

Curren closed off the right side of the interior with walls from the little yellow shed that are included in the kit. I didn't do that because I want to use the extra mini sheds on the diorama. The article doesn't show what the interior looks like with those shed walls installed, so maybe there's no loss to commonly known historical accuracy by leaving them off. 

A portion of the roof is cut away for the breezeway. I made a mistake and cut away one too many joists and later added them back with a scratchbuilt roof insert. 

You can see in the above photo I trimmed the left side of the tall shed's base so the low shed fits snuggly with the breezeway's floor. It's another trial-and-error job to get the two sheds to fit cleanly together at the roof and base. In the article Curren specifies drilling holes at various places in and around the breezeway for wire reinforcements and staples to securely hold the two structures together. Instead, I used some J.B.Weld epoxy to glue the two together at the roof and base. When the initial bond was hardened I dabbed on a little extra epoxy here-and-there to make sure the bases were secure. 

Gaps in the bases were filled in with styrene scraps. In the above photo you can see some of the epoxy work against the breezeway's left wall. That white strip over on the right is a support for a breezeway floor that I added later. I don't think Curren had one, but I thought it would neaten up the structure, and it would make sense to have a level floor that spanned the length and width of the area.

The tiny shed on the end needs to have its base and roof trimmed so that it will butt up against the low shed's left wall. Initially, I didn't use epoxy to join the two buildings, just regular styrene cement. Later, I got nervous and went back and reinforced the base connection with dabs of epoxy.

The base is a rough mish-mash, but it's solid

In case you were wondering, here's the business end of the structure. It's surprisingly solid, but I still handle it carefully. Eventually the model will have a permanent home on a diorama, so it shouldn't be subjected to much flex once that happens. 

The almost finished structure with orange ladders for safety :-)

We're getting close to the end. Just a few more details.

The breezeway

This is one of those 'The Digital Camera is a Harsh Mistress' photos, but it does show some of the final pieces of work.

You can see the styrene floor added to the breezeway along with a rickety step up to it sliced from some scrap styrene. I added a small extension to the low shed's roof to add back the portion I incorrectly cut off. A styrene beam has also been added below the roof joists for an illusion of support.

In the previous picture you can see the orange ladders popping out. They were painted to match the ones in Cals. I don't see how they'd improve the safety very much, but some token gestures must be made :-) 

Finally, I dusted the exterior surfaces with a little light grey chalk pastel. I'm going to revisit weathering a little once the diorama is in progress. I don't care much for the overly distressed look, so whatever I do the weathering will be light to produce something close to a freshly painted look. A bit of green flocking was glued to the base to make it a little more unified, but that will also be revisited once I get to the diorama.

I can't say I learned a lot about Art Curren's projects from working on just one as this particular one doesn't seem to be typical of his work. A lot of his projects appear to involve cutting several walls into a 3D jigsaw puzzle and then gluing them together to produce a rather interesting structure that one was surprised to see was hidden in the kit's parts all along. I will say though that it was a tricky project, and certainly not one for a beginner, but I'm happy with the result and glad I gave it a go.

The mountain gets some colour

I've been putting off painting the base layer on the Mt. Lowe layout for some unknown reason. Last week I decided to get on with it and went out and bought some acrylic paint I'd need to supplement the stock I had on hand. I then threw caution to the wind and painted all weekend.

I'd like to give you a step-by-step guide to painting the mountain, but I can't as this was the first time I've painted such a thing - the Loonar Module was a prelude, but hardly of the same scale - and there was a lot of trial-and-error involved. And my technique needs much refinement. 

I will mention a few things though, mainly so I have a reference in case I do this sort of painting again.

The colours I used were (by brand and colour): 

DecorArt Americana: Neutral Grey, Cool White, Slate Grey, Fawn

Liquitex: Titanium White, Neutral Grey 5, 

Pebeo: Raw Umber

Golden SoFlat: Burnt Umber

Golden Fluid Acrylic: Ultramarine Blue, Raw Umber.

The paint was applied in loose mixtures, usually combined with a lot of white to mute the strong colours. The primary mixtures were (mixed with white as I've noted):

Ultramarine blue and raw umber,

Slate grey and fawn.

Although, as the palette started to develop, the mixtures became more complex and I simply developed and applied whatever interesting colours were forming. In some places I got a little carried away with blue highlights, but I'll adjust those areas later.

To improve blending in some areas the paint was spritzed with a little bit of water. 

Several areas were given a thin wash of the Fawn colour to bring some unity to the base colours, and with the tones in Poppyfield Flats.

I'm noticing that the layout's colours vary a lot depending on lighting conditions. I like that as that's what I observed on the Mt. Lowe trail. There are lots of interesting detail areas amongst the layout's rock faces that don't come through in the photos, and depend on lighting to appreciate them. The weather is too bad these days to take this thing outside to look at it in sunlight, but once spring is here, outside it will go.

It's good to have at least the base layer on because it's now easier for me to visualize the colour contrasts in the various scenes. Previously, with the white trolley and the white mountains, contrasts were difficult for me to properly imagine. Now I can clearly see that the whites of the trolley, the trolley wire support posts, the circular bridge, and the Poppyfield Flats station are going to pop against the rock greys and the greens of the trees and vegetation. On the Experimental Farm layout the red fence posts that snaked through the layout provided the contrasting thread that pulled the layout together. Here it will be the white trolley wire support poles.

Pencil sharpening like it was 1975

The red square shows the pointer I bought in 1975 at the Grand & Toy in Cedarbrae Mall

Over the Christmas holidays, when covid wasn't having its way with me, I worked on a stack of drawings for projects I'd like to build this year. I showed the one for Inspiration Point in a previous post. Above is one for an old, repurposed firehouse I saw when I was on Cape Breton Island last year.

Unfortunately my old mechanical pencil pointer gave up the ghost during this marathon drawing session. I thought its pointing days were over. Well, at least until I consulted that fount of all things we call The Internet.

The cups arrived as advertised: old, but never used

It's turns out the pointer was made by a company called Tru-Point in Michigan. The problem I was having centred on a little cup inside the thing that has an abrasive paper liner that does the sharpening. Mine was worn flat and torn so it wouldn't sharpen, and it jammed the device when I tried to rotate a pencil in it.

By some miracle a search of eBay turned up a seller in Calgary who had a 'new old stock' of 3 never used replacement sharpening cups - and in their original box too! They arrived quickly, and I was soon back in the pencil sharpening business. 

New cup installed and ready for action!

I guess it shouldn't be, but it still seems amazing that I can buy a new-old replacement part for something I bought 50 years ago. Given the high quality of the sharpener, and the fact that I've still got 2 new replacement sharpening cups, I should be good for drawing like it was 1975 for quite a long time.

Ground colour at Poppyfield Flats

I'm making some attempts at painting the terrain. As I've mentioned before getting the colours right could be tricky because all I'm working from are my own travel photos, photos I've found on line, and memories from hikes on the Mt. Lowe trail. Then there are the colour shifts introduced by printing the reference photos on paper, or viewing them on a screen. Unlike the Loonar Module I don't have any samples of local rocks and soil, and I don't have a long, deep experience of living in or visiting the area. 

This is all to say layout colouring will be a long series of approximations, but in the end the deciding factor will be asking if the colours look right and hang together. 

Painting Poppyfield Flats was a two step process. First, a base layer of blobby, loose mixtures of DecoArt Americana acrylics Fawn and Desert Sand, accentuated with a little Golden So Flat Matte Acrylic Burnt Sienna and Burnt Umber were laid down. When dry, a diluted layer of DecoArt Americana Fawn was washed over the entire base layer. This had the effect of evening out the overall appearance, but still letting areas of the base layer show through. Painting continues.

Quetzalcoatlus Corridor

I've been talking to Galen about operational aspects of this little layout. He mentioned that John Allen had a principle that adding some scenic stops along a route - in this case from Poppyfield Flats to Inspiration Point - could provide some operational variety. Well, there were already some, scenic stops that is, but along the mountain's back face it was rather bland, so I tried to give some thought about what to do there.

Well, one evening, maybe after one too many jars of the water of life, I was reminiscing about my brief career as a junior aerodynamicist in the 1980s. In the 80s I was fascinated by aviation pioneer Paul MacCready's attempt to build and fly a replica of Quetzalcoatlus northrupi, the largest of the pterosaurs, for the Smithsonian's National Air and Space Museum. Long story short, those reminisces finally alit on the idea to include a petroglyph gallery along Mt. Lowe's back rock face, which would feature a large petroglyph of a very large Q. northrupi. 

Before you suggest I seek psychological assistance, I regularly deal in anachronisms, so please don't call the white coat brigade just yet.  

Roughing in the gallery stairs with 1/8" thick foam and pink foam scraps for support

In designing the gallery I wanted to communicate an air of fear. I wanted the gallery to be rather scary to get to, hence the steep, narrow, and crumbly stairs down to the gallery's viewing area. I wanted it to remind me of both hiking the Angel's Landing trail in Utah's Zion National Park and the trail to the Agawa Rock pictographs in Lake Superior Provincial Park.

Expanding the gallery floor and adding foam supports. A hot glue gun is used to stick it together.

As far as I know there aren't any petroglyph sites along the Mt. Lowe line, so this is all a fantasy on my part. 

And I think the only site where Q. northrupi fossils have been found is in Big Bend National Park in Texas, not in California's San Gabriel mountains. So, more fantasy.

Fascia is made from strips of 1cm wide foam

Although, there is a California connection, albeit a week one: Paul MacCready's company, AeroVironment, that built Q. northrupi flying model, was located in Monrovia, California, in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, near Altadena and Pasadena*, the home of the Mt. Lowe Railway. 

Cell-u-Clay is used to blend everything together

And who's responsible for those petroglyphs? I'm going to place the blame on some early 20th century palaeontologists and cryptozoologists who took Arthur Conan Doyle's book The Lost World a little too seriously, went looking for pterosaurs in the San Gabriels with a hope of supplementing the Mt. Lowe zoo with them, got lost, and ... well, the rest we'll never know.

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*As I write this post Altadena and Pasadena are being consumed by the horrific Eaton wildfire that started in the Eaton Canyon of the San Gabriel Mountains. I’ve visited Pasadena, Altadena, and Monrovia a few times in my life. The people and places are great, and I wish everyone courage and strength in the face of this devastating event.

Recently updated: Marmora station posts

Last night I happily stumbled across some photos of Marmora station and an excellent model of it here and here by George Dutka at his White River Division blog. A few years back I had posted a couple of photos of the station I had shot in the 1970s, and some of those photos I had misidentified. I took the opportunity to go and fix up those posts (here and here and here) as best I could given what little information I have on hand. I need to go back through my photos and finish scanning, identifying, and posting them.

Some thoughts on 'Analysis Paralysis in Layout Building'

Over at Trackside Treasure Eric has posted an interesting essay called Analysis Paralysis in Layout Building. This morning I read some equally interesting comments called Analysis-paralysis: the too long comment by Chris at his Prince Street blog. These posts got me thinking. I tried to post a comment to Eric's essay, but Blogger told me it was also a "too long comment", so I figured I'd post it here. Before reading it though I'd recommend starting with Eric and Chris's essays. 

Without further ado, here's my too long comment - you've been warned :-)

This is quite an interesting post. I can’t say I have any answers for the points you’ve raised, although I do have some further points to add :-) They include things like how social media has created a new, formidable psychological barrier to entry into the hobby; how old ways of thinking about layouts in terms of plywood sheets, basements, garages, and spare rooms has limited thinking about layouts in terms of modules, micro-layouts, dioramas, Lego, hextrak pieces, as well as other configurations; how the quest for supreme detail has overshadowed design and composition thereby limiting what is considered acceptable, and so on and so on. 

One of the ‘and so on’ topics I’ve found useful is the idea that model railroading could be viewed as either a finite or infinite game as a way to try to fight paralysis.

Back in the 80s I read a book by James Carse called ‘Finite and Infinite Games’. The first few chapters I found quite interesting, and their ideas have stuck with me over the years. To quote the opening chapter: “There are at least two kinds of games. One could be called finite, the other, infinite. A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.” There’s more to it than that, but one’s about winning, and the other’s about how to keep on playing.

For me, model building is an infinite game. You can enter and leave the field of play - that is, in literal terms, the workshop for me - at anytime. My projects are not governed by schedules, project plans, work-break-down-structures or deadlines (or even the instructions in the box for that matter if I’m building a kit). If it takes a year to build something I like, that’s ok. If it takes two weeks that’s ok too. Model building, like anything else, can be a finite game, but it’s not usually that way for me. Projects are much more fun when I don’t fret over my rate of progress. 

When it comes to model railroading, it could also be approached as either finite or infinite. The finite version is one characterized by deadlines, schedules, building for competitions, getting likes, pleasing peers, shows, conventions, or magazines or other such venues. There are rules to be followed and rewards to be won. In this approach, model railroading is somewhat like a business activity, or professional sport or entertainment. On the other hand, one of the key features of an infinite game, and infinite model railroading in particular, is that it isn't driven by externalities like events, deadlines, recognition, going viral, becoming an influencer, prizes, or money, and their associated rules. It's a personal pursuit where playing 'the game', in all its dimensions, is the focus. The infinite approach isn't a disguise for new age squishiness as things like the pursuit of the craft through skill enhancement and mastery aren't abandoned. 

My belief though is that the pull of social media - a powerful finite game in it’s own right - can be detrimental to practicing model building or model railroading as an infinite game, thereby contributing to overall paralysis. In crude terms, “if I can’t win (ie, do just what is acceptable on social media), then why bother.” Paralysis is the outcome.

But, now I’m going to do a complete 180 and contradict myself. Last year for the first time I entered a model railroading challenge sponsored by a magazine. It had rules and requirements and the trappings of a finite game. As soon as I read those rules and requirements an idea immediately popped into my mind for an entry and I went for it, full speed ahead, and had a great time. I found being ‘forced’ to build my idea in a short time to be invigorating and it helped rekindle interest in other ‘infinite projects’ I had on the go. So, I’m thinking some flipping between finite and infinite approaches to the hobby is beneficial, but I still think if one is focused completely on the finite aspect, much is lost. 

I’m not saying the finite and infinite game lens is the one and only way to view the hobby, just that it’s one of many conceptual tools that can be useful at times. Maybe posing one or more finite games might be a way of getting newcomers started in the hobby, or maybe as a way of breaking down the start of a potentially big project into assessable pieces without making a big upfront commitment. Look at them as short stories or novellas that might be the basis of a future novel or saga. None of this is new of course, but I believe having many conceptual tools on hand to reframe problems is useful.