Desert Dodge Do-Over, Part 9: Scenes from a workbench

A day or so ago I was watching a video of a Tamyia car kit I've had my eye on for a long time being built. Every step was done very 'professionally'. The assembler wore black, skin tight gloves through every step. The cuts were made with surgical precision. Every part was airbrushed with a spotless, chrome plated, high-end airbrush under a clean room level spray hood with intricate and flawless masking. Even the 'weathering' was sprayed on with surgical precision as if no weather played any part in the matter.

In the end the model was flawless.

And characterless.

I'd like to see more liveliness; more personalization; more customization; more memories; more desire; and more heart.

The Lengthy Lineage of Little Layouts, Part 1: Introduction

Aerial view of John Olson's HOn3 Cielo Lumber Co. | Source: Railroad Modeler, Jan '74

This essay rambles a bit, but it does eventually get to the point. If you’re ok with that, let’s get on with it.

A week or so ago I was informed of the passing of model railroading legend John Olson. I wrote a little about his work while I was deep into building the Mount Lowe layout. Although I didn’t personally know Mr. Olson, the report of his death struck a chord with me. It was the passing of a significant figure in my early model railroading education. I read a lot of old model railroading magazines and books, so I think a part of my mind unconsciously believes the modellers whose projects are showcased in those publications are still out there in their prime doing fantastic work so that sheltered part of my mind sometimes gets hit hard when faced with reality. 

Olson’s HOn3 Cielo Lumber Co. layout that was featured in the January 1974 issue of Railroad Modeler was the first layout I ever obsessed over. I thought everything about it was great: the photos, the little model buildings, the rolling stock, the scenes, and the text. I read the article many times and studied the photos obsessively. Even today I like to go back to that article now and then. I still get a hit of pleasure from it. Of course Mr. Olson went on to do bigger and better things, but the Cielo Lumber Co. has a lasting charm, and wouldn’t be out-of-place in today’s world of model railways

When events like John Olson’s passing happen it tends put other things I’m thinking about at the time in a different light. Take the Cielo Lumber Co. layout, it’s a little layout, not a micro, but little, especially for the time when a little beginner’s layout was generally considered something that filled a 4’x8’ sheet of plywood or a ping-pong table. In those days little layouts like Cielo weren’t unheard of, but weren’t where the mainstream action was. Cielo also reminds me that when I was deep into E. L. Moore research in the old magazines I’d often stumble across articles and photos of perfectly decent little layouts. 

Track plan of John Olson's Cielo Lumber Co. | Source: Railroad Modeler, Jan '74*
At first glance it looks like it has 3 wyes, but there's only 1.

E. L. Moore himself even built one - a 30 inch x 30 inch one called the Enskale Hoentee - as a project layout for Railroad Model Craftsman in 1968. In that post-WWII era many model railroaders also struggled, as many do today, with their desire to have a layout. Back then many didn’t have much room for one because they were living in apartments, small houses, or trailers, or they didn’t have the cash for a basement-filler. E. L. Moore was in that category. He lived in a small apartment and had quite a modest income. His famous Elizabeth Valley RR was only 4 ft x 6 ft. That’s still rather large by today’s standards of what a small layout often is, but it fit in his apartment and generated so much interest from readers that he had postcards printed up with the EVRR track plan on them to respond to inquires about the pike. 

But, as I mentioned, Mr. Moore wasn’t the only model railroader doing small layouts in that era. I’ve mentioned a few here, but I should write more about the others I’ve seen, and follow up on a few leads that I’ve set aside “for another time”. While it’s true that large layouts dominated, little ones had a presence, and lots of creative thought went into them. 

I sometimes encounter YouTube videos where the hosts will list not having room for a layout as one perceived reason the hobby doesn’t have much of an uptake with younger modellers. The argument seems to be implicitly based on the assumption that the large layout is the thing being desired. To me this demonstrates a lack of knowledge regarding the fantastic array of smaller model railways that are being built today, and the long history of little layouts. I’m not going to try and educate people on the state of small layouts in today’s scene. Just go to YouTube, The Micro Model Railway Dispatch, or Voie Libre, and you’ll be well on your way to educating yourself about projects in this fascinating field. 

Here, I’d rather talk about many of the older little layouts from say 1945 to around 1980 that were covered in magazines, but aren’t all that well known, or known at all. Many of those are even more viable today because we have much improved technology right across the board to implement and riff on them than they did back then. Frankly, the more ideas one is exposed to, the more depth you have to work with when designing your own layout. I’d bet AI doesn’t know about any of those classic little layouts, so it’s up to us humans to step up to the task of bringing them to light. Hopefully AI will one day incorporate that knowledge into its databases to share with others - well, I can hope :-)

Paperclip-7
Little layout thinking applied to a Scalextric 1/32 scale slot car track**
Size is approximately 200cm x 130 cm

What do I consider little? I don’t have hard and fast dimensions for you other than the layout should be considerably smaller than a standard 4’ x 8’ sheet of plywood. Micro-layouts are the smallest in the category, with the largest being around 4 sq. ft. in area. I should note I’m not talking about modular layouts, but self-contained, stand-alone little worlds. Over the years I’ve taken a stab at defining some different classes of little layouts, usually with tongue firmly in cheek, such as MCM-7 and the Anti-Layout. The only definitive thing I can say is "I know one when I see one" :-)

One other thing I like about little layouts is they open the door to pleasant activities and learning that is distinctly human and, so far, inaccessible, and maybe incomprehensible, to AI. And before we get too far into this, I’m not saying they are a gateway activity to STEM or STEAM. I don’t have something so instrumental in mind. Someone of course might attribute model railwaying as their introduction to a professional career, and that’s all well and good, but boosting career prospects is not the point I'm trying to make. It’s the idea that mind, body, and soul all come together to make these little layouts that aids being a human being. This happens with large layouts too, but the advantage of little ones is that they’re lower cost, easier to complete, and you can build several different ones to a high degree of completion in the time it would take to build a moderately detailed, moderately sized big layout. ‘Moderately sized big layout’, sheesh, there’s another thing I’m going to have to define, but for now I’ll assume you know what I mean. This all helps to speed learning so you can develop deeper, more sophisticated layouts relatively faster. And you don’t have to trash your finished layout to make way for a new one, which always seemed like a colossal waste to me. 

Ok, I've rambled long enough. It's been a long way of saying that I'm thinking about writing on little layouts I stumble across from the pre-micro-layout era, and maybe throw in some posts about things I find in Railroad Modeler too as I think it's an under appreciated magazine from the past. There're are also a few topics about the intersection of AI, model making, reading, and writing I'd like to dive into, so stay tuned, and thanks for hanging around until the end!

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Digressions

* In the article Mr. Olson states he derived the track plan from "an old issue of MR". He doesn't specify which old issue.

I thought, ok this seems like a problem in topology. Maybe if I give Gemini the track plan it can try and pattern-match its lines to other track plans it has access to. The track plan's lines may need to be stretched, strunk, or bent, but that's topology for you and that laborious work should be something AI can do far better than me.

Gemini gave very authoritative sounding replies to my question, but in the end what it told me it had made up, which I discovered after checking the sources it recommended.

It recommended an article called A Wye for Small Spaces by Linn Westcott in the Nov '57 issue, and A Wye for Small Spaces (yes, the same title as Westcott's article!) by Gordon Odegard in the Nov '64 issue. Neither issue had any articles by either of them that even came close. Gemini also said they could be found in the classic book 101 Track Plans for Model Railroads and that too proved false.

While I'll need to do some good old fashioned research to find the source, I didn't mind the wild goose chase. I found some interesting articles in both those issues I'm going to write about here. So, even though I don't care for the blatant making things up stuff that AI does, I often find in its randomness some interesting paths to follow.

**I got into model railways via slot cars. I've recounted the story many times, but I'll simply summarize it by saying: 1/32 Scalextric & Eldon slot cars -> E. L. Moore -> model railroading. 

I got to wondering if I could design a slotcar track for 1/32 scale cars and Scalextric track with a footprint no bigger than 2m x 1m, which would fit in the back of my SUV with the backseats turned down. I came close.

I used the app Railmodeller Express to design what I call the Paperclip-7 layout, named as such because it looks like a paperclip and the scenery will be reminiscent of a wild stretch of Ontario's King's Highway 7. Whether or not this layout will work is up for debate. 

If I ever build this thing, you'll be the first to know :-)

Experiments

Three A4 test layouts (from r to l): hand bent 9mm gauge loop; HO gauge loop; 9mm gauge loop using rail bender.
Yes, that's E. L. Moore's Yard Blacksmith Shop on the middle one.

You may have noticed that posts are way down this year. As well as working on the Mt. Lowe layout I've been doing some experimenting, but haven't been posting about it. Ok, well, the Moon Mail Madness diorama was an experiment I eventually posted about, as well as some thoughts I had later on the subject of dioramas and little layouts, but not so much on other layout related stuff.

Sometime in late winter or early spring this year I got interested in building a little loop layout on an A4 sized area, which is rather common in European model railway 'circles'. I wanted to give it a try. In the previous photo, and the following one, you can see my first attempt (it's the layout on the right): a 9mm gauge loop, curved by hand, and Transfer Taped to a thin stack of foam sheets cut to A4 size. I also ballasted the track.

I was also experimenting with layout heights.

Locos run alright around the loop, but the loop itself seemed like I used the outline of a lumpy potato as the guide to bending the track. I assure you I didn't! I first drew a track plan in my Leuchtturm1917 notebook (it's A4 size), pinned a piece of track down, and tried running a loco over the loop to see what would happen. It worked just fine! 

Using a Leuchtturm1917, 215 x 315mm, notebook as a track planning & testing tool!

But, I didn't like the shape I obtained by just hand bending the track. I figured if I was going to be serious about developing layouts with sinuous track plans I needed to buy a track bending tool, so I bought one of these Rail Rollers.

The YouTube channel Narrow Gauge Shop has a number of videos showing how to use a rail bending tool, and I watched just about all of them. The video above is one particular example that I found quite helpful, but I recommend browsing the channel as it's full of informative and interesting stuff.

Lumpy potato no more! An A4 loop of 9mm gauge track bent with a rail bending tool.

Even after my first attempt at track bending with the tool, it produced some quite decent results. As you can see in the photo above, not bad radius conformance, and there appears to be no residual stress in the rails that has to be fought against during installation as there was when I hand bent the track - that's what makes it lumpy.

And here it is!

I was also doing some experimentation with base thickness as I talked about in an earlier post. For this second attempt at an A4 loop I made quite a tall base from foam scraps. At the time I was inspired by the mid-century styling of the Clairtone stereo products and I started to wonder about building a little A4 layout whose base resembled some sort of wood grained piece of audio equipment from the 70s: a pair of wood gain ends with black wood sides, retro-styled control knobs and toggles, and so on. 

Definitely not pretty in pink.

It could still happen. For now though, I simply painted the sides black because the pink hurts my eyes!

The E. L. Moore inspired layout experiment in bending 16.5mm gauge track.
This is the middle layout in the opening photo.

After those tests with N-gauge track I tried my hand at bending some HO-gauge track to fit on an A4 area. I had in mind an E. L. Moore themed display making use of his Yard Blacksmith Shop. It would be some sort of Flyer and Coach repair area with a loop of track for testing rolling stock. That 'wooden' circle is a stand-in for a small turntable which allows repaired rolling stock to return to the mainline. On a 'real' layout I'd have a functional turntable - I think I could somehow squeeze one in. 

A first attempt at a more sinuous track plan for a wilderness retreat layout.

By this time I was feeling confident in using the rail bending tool and decided to try something a little more adventurous with 9 mm gauge track. In the back of my mind I have a layout idea for a wilderness retreat with a narrow gauge line that connects a house with a wood lot and a dock, with the basic track plan being something of a bent dog bone. 

Although I'm happy with the overall shape, the centre section needs to be a bit longer for what I have in mind. If I go forward and turn this experiment into a layout I'll explain why in a future post.

Experimenting with Taronna designs using salvaged Alta Vista TC modules

All this experimenting got me thinking again about the Exploratorium and a post from 2022 on how the principles it promoted for exhibit design could easily be applied to layout design. In their exhibit design pamphlet that I reviewed in that post I took their list of 10 exhibit design principles and substituted 'layout' wherever 'exhibit' appeared to see if the resulting modified list made sense. It did. Looking at it again though it seems to make more sense to substitute 'micro-layout' for 'exhibit', 'fellow modellers' for 'staff', and 'viewers' for 'visitors'. Here's what the new list, a list of micro-layout design principles based on Exploratorium exhibit design principles, looks like:

1. Basic research - just plain tinkering around with something for the fun of it - is an essential part of the micro-layout development process.

2. Micro-layouts are designed and developed by people who are interested in the phenomenon to be displayed.

3. To some extent, all micro-layouts are collaborative: many people make suggestions and contribute ideas.

4. The first stage of micro-layout design is the construction of a full-scale working prototype.

5. Micro-layout builders are responsive to comments from viewers and fellow modellers, testing layouts at many stages in their development and allowing reactions to shape the layout.

6. Micro-layout builders pay attention to aesthetic nuances, noticing what is fun to do, what is beautiful, what is intriguing.

7. Generally, micro-layout builders try not to restrict a viewer’s choice.

8. Ideally, viewers should be able to see the inner workings of a layout and make discoveries about how the layout works.

9. Most micro-layouts are set up on table tops, so that viewers can gather and use the micro-layout together.

10. Micro-layouts are often constructed of inexpensive materials, scrap, and found objects (or junk).

The fit is pretty good. These ideas don't seem too bad for micro-layout planning.

Another salvaged Alta Vista TC module awaiting experimentation.

Planning, design, experimentation, are all bouncing around in my mind these days. My 'ultimate' Toronto streetcar layout hasn't escaped their clutches :-) I've been mulling over how to proceed with that layout, the so-called 'Taronna' layout, for quite awhile.

I have in mind a small coffee table sized layout featuring Toronto landmarks that have significance to me, streetcars, a below grade subway station, and a bowling alley! It would be a huge project. I came to my senses recently when I realized it could take 3 or 4 years to build - maybe more knowing me. I want to build something much more doable on say a 2 year time horizon, but still try to incorporate the things most important to me. 

So, in the spirit of tinkering and experimentation I've pulled out the modules I salvaged from the misguided Alta Vista TC layout and have begun playing with them to see what I might come up with design wise for Taronna. I want to see if moving models around on the modules triggers any ideas. I've drawn little sketches of a possible layout, but I'm thinking maybe the full-size 'sketch' approach I took with the Moon Mail Madness diorama is the better way to design it: basically, applying Principle #1 of the Exploratorium guidelines.

3rd and last salvaged Alta Vista TC module waiting in the wings for design duty.

Well, that's the report from 30Squares Labs. I'll let you know if anything catches fire, but until then we'll crank up the time machine and go back to when the King of Spain was living in Taronna, er, Toronto:

Design notes on bases for dioramas and micro-layouts

Base for Moon Mail Madness diorama after Cell-U-Clay had hardened.

I thought I’d spend a little time writing down my thoughts on how bases for dioramas and micro-layouts should be designed; well, maybe I should back off a bit and say these notes are about how I like to design bases. I think about this topic from time-to-time and it popped into my mind again after participating in the recent scale model show held here so I figured maybe this was a good time to put some notes together. I don’t claim any originality or universality here. No doubt many modellers have gone down this road too and touched on many of the same ideas. I can’t say that these notes apply to all situations; your mileage may vary :-)

I used the models to sketch on a big sheet of paper how each would be positioned on the base.

Ok, let’s move on to the first topic. These notes aren’t in any particular order, just what pops into my head as I write.

The arrangement went through several iterations; this one is close to the final

Inspiration: MacRae, Smith, Bennett, Adams, + ...

To me a diorama isn’t just a few objects or figures set on a base to show off a model in a more favourable light as implied by the show’s flyer, which noted that for their purposes we’re looking at a diorama when the following condition is met: “As soon as ANY [JDL: All caps theirs] objects are added to the bases other than the model, it will be classed as a “diorama””. To me a diorama, in the context of scale model work, isn’t simply a collection of objects, but is a model display that tells a story. The story is the primary feature and the models support the telling. A few objects or figures on a base accompanying a model isn’t a diorama, it’s simply a way of displaying a model to best advantage.

From time-to-time eye level views were assessed as the arrangement was iterated.

I’m much inspired by the dioramas of Bruce MacRae, especially his Wine Tasters diorama, as well as the scenes constructed by Michael Paul Smith, Amy Bennett, and Kim Adams. 

Now the work of Smith and Bennett aren’t dioramas in the sense that scale modellers use. Smith created what could be considered temporary scenes for purposes of photographing them, and the temporary scenes Bennett builds are for creating paintings from. However, the key here is they both use models to create scenes that tell stories. 

The objects Kim Adams makes are closer to that of classic model making diorama-ists, but the content of his work is very different. His stories are often ones of exploration into alternative possibilities of our physical world, not just highly detailed reflections of it.

But, the connecting thread running through the work of all four artists is that the centre of interest in their dioramas isn’t one or two particularly well detailed models, but stories. 

Scraps of foam sheet to be used to make the base.

In the model railroading world, E. L. Moore is my main influence. Not everything he built centred on a story, but a lot did. Over the last few years I've been impressed by the layouts shown in the French magazine Voie Libre. Ok, yes, this has an air of shameless self-promotion since a few photos of the Loonar Module appeared there in 2023 in a micro-layout feature, but in my defence I submitted photos there for a couple of reasons. I was impressed by the small layouts they'd written about over the previous 3 or 4 years, and I had never seen a layout set in a Canadian scene by an actual Canadian in their pages! I wanted to fix that injustice :-) The rest is history :-)

I quite enjoy all the layouts Voie Libre has featured, but I especially like the work of Bernard Junk and Detlev Horn, notably their layout called The Island.

Continental Modeller is also a good place to see innovative layouts. And, yes, yes, more shameless self-promotion, the Centennial Experimental Farm layout appeared in its pages this year. 

All I'm saying is that there's a lot of interesting work going on in the wide world of model railroad layouts

Tracing template was cut out after finalizing the arrangement.

Shape: Base Shape Helps Story

The footprints of many dioramas and small layouts are simple geometric shapes: squares, rectangles, circles, and ovals. This is quite understandable as these are readily obtainable in the form of pieces of wood, picture frames, display plaques, and so on. I’ve come to think though that the footprint should help tell the diorama’s story.

Sometimes foam sheets were glued together to make suitably sized pieces

I didn’t really understand this when I built the Loonar Module. I used 2’ x 2’ by 1” thick insulating foam sheets for the base because they were easy to buy at the local home renovation store. But, I wound up building a round island on a square lake! It turned out ok, but if there’s a next time the base’s footprint will reflect the story since water isn’t square :-)

Later, when I was building the Centennial Experimental Farm layout I could have just gone ahead with a rectangular footprint for the base, but I thought it more appropriate for the base to be rectangular at the Carling road end since the road was all straight edges, and rounded at the streetcar return loop at the farm end. There it matched the graceful loop of the track, and didn’t present dead corners to be filled in as it would if this end was also square. So, curved lines at the natural end, and straight edges at the urban end.

A layer ready for cutting out with a hand saw and knife.

The Mt. Lowe layout is where I’ve really started to apply the ’base shape helps story’ principle. Mt. Lowe had several scenes that I wanted to capture, but they had to be somewhat separated from each other. The trefoil seemed to help realize that desire with its three prominent lobes, each providing a separate scenic area. Thinking about the trefoil’s scenic potential a bit more I realized its footprint actually allows for 7 scenes: the 3 lobes, the 3 concavities connecting the lobes, and the aerial view, which in this case is a mountain top observatory.

Lots of scraps and foam dust after cutting out the pieces.

With the Moon Mail Madness diorama I took the principle further. As you can see in this post’s photos I designed the base’s shape as I used the models to sketch out the story; both developed at the same time. And what is the story? It’s a slice of life in the lunar postal service: two lunar postal workers meet at a crossroads and one takes a photo of the other as he begins to remove letters from a mailbox :-) I thought the base’s footprint should match the shape of the road intersection to emphasize the crossing. Also, why make the base square or rectangular and have to deal with dead space that needs filling? The only external limit on the footprint was the show’s specified requirement that all dioramas had to fit in a 2’ x 2’ area, not be a 2’ x 2’ area, which was no problem fulfilling.  

White glue holds the stack together. A rasp and sanding blocks used to form the final shape.

Presence: A Subtle Call to Look

Over the years I’ve come to like thick bases for dioramas and small layouts. 

A lot of dioramas and small layouts I’ve seen present the viewer with a decent top side model and scene set on a thin, platter-like base. Sort of like a meal that has been put on a dinner plate. Some might say, well it’s the modelling that’s of interest and not what it’s sitting on, much like it’s the meal that’s important and not the plate below.

An anti-slip mat was cut and glued to the bottom of the base.

To me though a diorama or layout is a complete, integrated object; a type of three-dimensional sculpture. A diorama doesn’t consist of a good part (the model work) that is to be enjoyed and an irrelevant support part (the base) that is to be ignored. The base’s footprint helps to tell the story, and its height helps to command you to look at that story by establishing the diorama or layout’s physical presence amongst all other objects that vie for a viewer’s attention.

This is another idea that at first I didn’t fully appreciate. The Loonar Module’s base is 3 foam sheets thick because I wanted it to be quite rigid and strong. Mission accomplished. However, looking at the result over weeks and months I felt the thick base gave the layout a solid look that I quite liked. It seemed like the island actually was rooted in something, not just sitting on something.

Anti-slip mat trimmed to fit the bottom of the base.

On the Centennial Experimental Farm I deliberately made the base height about the same as what I thought the tallest tree would be. It seemed odd to me to have big, tall trees (completely to scale regarding height and canopy volume) sticking out of a base no thicker than a pizza box. It didn’t seem balanced. It didn’t seem substantial.

However, like the Loonar Module’s base, I painted it black because I didn’t want the base to draw attention to itself. Its job was simply to say “here’s a story” and bring it to a viewer’s attention, not be the story. The base is to be the strong silent type component in this object we call a diorama: it provides structural support, it’s footprint provides narrative support, it’s height makes a call for attention and visually balances the models, but it tries to do all this in a subtle manner, not calling unnecessary attention to itself. 

The mailbox rise is glued to the base. Note commercial vac-formed crater to the right.

Moon Mail Madness violates the subtly principle a little with the inclusion of the postcard. I thought it would help the overall story, and it tries to be subtle while doing so. Sometimes on layouts that are structured like framed paintings instead of sculptural objects you’ll see a lot of labels, stickers, photos, warnings, awards, and other ephemera attached to the surround. That’s all too loud and distracting for me. The layout needs to speak for itself. Likewise, dioramas need to speak for themselves. They shouldn’t need any supporting documentation or ephemera hanging around trying to divert attention.

Crater glued on. White glue spread on foam prior to applying Cell-U-Clay.

Materials: Sheet Foam

I use foam sheets for my bases because they are lightweight, strong when laminated, easy to cut and shape, and low cost. I learned a hard lesson when I built the portable Lost Ocean Line layout from wood. It became too heavy to be very portable by me alone. Other materials can certainly be used. Foam sheets aren’t some magic one-size-fits-all solution, but I’d say put the wood back in the rack if it isn’t completely necessary. If you’re using wood for decorative reasons, that’s a different story.

Spare Moonscope wheel was used to roll in tracks.

On the Loonar Module I sided the base with sheet styrene to give it a smooth finish. I’ve subsequently learned that isn’t completely necessary. Smoothing the foam sides and then painting them with an artist’s quality acrylic will produce a decent finished surface. Although foam sides may seem a bit rough and soft after shaping and smoothing, the acrylic paint acts as a binder to solidify the surface as well as provide colour. Think of the paint job as applying a surface binder that just so happens to have a colour, which is black in my case. 

After 2 weeks of curing, cheap acrylic paints were used to colour the surface

Eye Level: An unresolved problem

I’ve always thought that the conventional way scale models (plastic models, train layouts, doll houses, every category really) are shown and displayed is odd. I think the best way to view them is at eye level because, usually, that’s how we encounter their real life counterparts. Yet, models are usually displayed so that the most common viewing angle is from above. I understand the practical reasons for this, but it doesn’t do justice to the models and the work of their makers. By setting out models on tables of conventional height only small children get the best views :-) 

Maybe conventional tables augmented with some sort of leg extensions would do the trick for model shows. Combined with showing dioramas or layouts with thick bases, this might almost solve the eye level viewing problem. Or maybe not. If you’re a long time reader here I’ve tried some experiments to fix this issue over the years, but haven’t been satisfied yet with the results. 

Ready for adding the models.

These aren't likely my final thoughts on the subject. They simply capture a few aspects of my current thinking. 

Oh, and before I run off for coffee, Sheperd Paine's book How to build Dioramas is always good to consult. Maybe I'll dive in again while coffee's brewing.

Awaiting the show.

The non-artificial (aka real) learning and pleasure in placing the observation shelter

Observation shelter installed at Inspiration Point.

In my reading I’ve come across a few places online that, for a variety of reasons, advocate reading in a more traditional way - on the printed page and far from the internet - as a way to try to preserve and develop important aspects of one’s humanity. I agree with them, but I’d add that finding and developing an offline interest that engages not just the mind, but the body and soul as well is equally as important. And if it also incorporates reading, then all the better.

Work started by installing a styrene piece for a foundation and levelling it with clay blobs.

‘Interest’ isn’t a good word for the kind of activity I have in mind. Neither are words like ‘hobby’, ‘pastime’, or ‘leisure pursuit’. ‘Work’ comes closest, but it’s loaded with other meanings that are far from what I’m thinking about. ‘Calling’ is getting closer, but it also has its own baggage. I need to look into terminology some more.

Foam pieces were hot glued in place to make 'rock' steps up to the shelter.

For me model making comes close to fulfilling this role. As an ‘interest’ for me it’s not just about making things and learning to make things, but also includes reading (lots of it offline :-) ), writing, investigating, walking, wondering, travelling, observing, and photographing. Sometimes video enters the mix, but I have no affinity with it. Model railroading and train watching involve things that move, so video seems a natural fit to capture that aspect, but the shadow cast over amateur video production by the world of tv shows, influencers, media stars, and so on I find off putting. I watch and enjoy several ‘channels’, but communicating my thoughts through video isn't something that resonates with me.

CelluClay was used to reshape the top of Inspiration Point and blend in the shelter's foundation and steps.

Lurking in the background is AI, attempting to completely devour all the surface phenomena associated with reading, writing, photography, and even video. I think of AI as ‘Alien Intelligence’. Not alien in the sense of little green men from outer space, but alien in the sense of foreign to the human experience. Those LLMs powering AI are simply brute force algorithms to simulate certain outputs of our minds. They appear to do it exceedingly well, but ultimately it’s all just puppetry, and crude puppetry at that. At least a real puppet has the advantage of being an actual extension of a human being allowing humans to create and communicate in ways that enhance aspects of the body, mind, and soul. Without body and soul, and the deep ways they and mind interact to inform each other, prevent what we charitably call AI from ever truly being an artificial version of human intelligence. And what of AI’s mind? What little there is, it’s not created by us, for our purposes, so even that is highly suspect.

Several applications of CelluClay were required to mould in everything to my liking.

Placing the observation shelter was an iterative process. Effort-wise, it was only a few hours work. Elapsed time-wise though it took 2 or 3 weeks. There was lots of time spent looking, trying things out, adjusting, fiddling, more looking, mixing papier-mâché, consulting books, applying paint, re-applying paint, gluing on ground cover, more looking, more fiddling, and so on. All of this was real learning, real doing, and real pleasure. My terrain may not be great, but it is real, and from the real experiences I gained creating it, real learning can continue due to the continual feedback to body, mind, and soul engaged in the process.

Ok, let's climb down from the high country. I need some real coffee.

Getting my kit together

When I started this project a few weeks ago I thought I was simply going to write a post telling about how I customized Dapol's little Engine Shed kit (# C007) into a sort of back country engine house for an HO-9 diesel which, along with Cal's and Artz lumber yards, would complete the scene on the little diorama that's been bouncing around in the back of my mind for quite sometime.

But as the project proceeded I came to realize that what I should be telling you is "Don't buy this kit" instead of how to overcome its many problems as I set about trying to customize it. And I also realized that I should be telling myself to get off the old kits and old builds diversion I'm on and get back to the projects I'm really interested in, but have been avoiding properly committing to.

Brick Price's engine house in his book, Modeling Narrow-Gauge Railroads

But first, let's back up to where this story begins. I wanted the diorama to have a little engine house near the grounds of the lumber yards for the HO-9 engine that moves logs and lumber to the sheds. Logically the scene doesn't make any sense. It's just a flimsy excuse for displaying some favourite buildings on a coffee table sized layout. I had in mind a little kitbash Brick Price did where he converted the large, two-stall, standard gauge Revell Engine House into a small, single-stall, narrow gauge engine house. I've shown it in the above photo.

However, after studying the size of the 'small' engine house, I came to understand it would still be rather large compared to the lumber sheds. Too large really, and it would dominate the scene. I didn't want that.

After some humming-and-hawing and searching magazines and books and the internet I stumbled across an old single stall engine house kit by Dapol. The architecture is English, but not overly so that maybe it could be palmed off as something built over here in the late 19th or early 20th century by builders schooled in English building methods. 

And, most importantly, the kit was cheap and simple, so I ordered one :-)

Upon its arrival the adventure - and the soul searching - began.

In this example, the doors don't fit, requiring work on the panels and hinges.

As I worked on the kit, it seemed that every piece either had a problem with warpage, lots of flash, large, ugly mould ejector pins, or poor fit that had to be fixed up, and this work was in addition to the relatively minor changes I had planned to make to the model. It reminded me of the highly frustrating trip down memory lane I took with the Revell Gran Turismo.

Ok, to give the manufacturer its due, they do indicate on the outside of the kit's packaging there might be issues with the parts:

"Please note that whilst we strive for perfect quality, due to the age of the tooling, it is inevitable that some flashing and slightly mis-moulded parts will arise. If this is the case and the kit is unusable, please return the kit to your retailer with proof of purchase for a replacement."

The instruction sheet also mentions that softening warped parts by immersing them in hot water can help you get them straight. I don't know what state the parts need to be in to be deemed unusable given that guidance. The kit can be built, but for what on the surface seems like a straightforward beginner level kit, it strikes me as requiring a lot of work. 

 

The packaging mentions that the kit dates back 50 years at the time it was printed. The internet tells me it dates from the early 1960s, maybe 1961, so it has been in production a long time. I'm thinking maybe too long. I can understand the desire to keep it in production, being a cash cow and everything. But, who's it for? I think it would require an unusual amount of work for a beginner to produce a middling model, and a more experienced modeller might take more pleasure from a scratchbuild. Maybe a beginner might simply forego a simple kit like this and just tackle scratchbuilding an engine shed as a first foray into the field.*

I panelled the wall's inside surfaces with styrene to make them flat and uniform

And what were those customizations I had in mind? 

    1. Shorten the foundation brick course so the doors didn't leave an opening of a few feet above the track.

    2. Add a very simple interior so that casual glances inside leave an impression that there is an interior to this model.

Both changes were pretty simple. Some rows of bricks were sawn off the bottom of the building, which meant the opening for the doors on the rear wall had to be increased to compensate. No problem with this.

Some old Superquick brick paper was glued on.

The kit's inside wall surfaces aren't flat. I glued in scraps of 0.040" thick sheet styrene to level up the various interior projections and create flat surfaces for gluing on brick paper. No problem with this either.

I know, corner magnets are the on-trend thing to use til the glue dries, but I still use elastic bands.

However, I must admit, the walls do glue together alright. Although, what you can't see in the above picture is the curvature in the side walls. To straighten them out I scratchbuilt a ladder frame from styrene strips, and then glued that sub-structure into the upper perimeter of the walls, which you can see in the photo below.

Installing the upper ladder frame to reduce wall warping.

The ladder frame suggests rafters, but more importantly, I guess, is that sub-structure more-or-less gets rid of the wow** in the side walls. 

I have lots more construction photos than I've shown here, but at this point I stopped taking any. I had done so much fiddly work to correct wonky parts and get to this state, and could see lots more on the horizon, that I thought, enough's enough. No more photos. No more describing what I did. No more nothing. Just press on.

You're right, I glued the windows in backwards - deliberately!

But, it wasn't enough to make me stop the project. I took a perverse pleasure in finishing it, even though I'm not completely satisfied with the result. 

Yeah, that's right, I got some fun out of this build for all the wrong reasons :-) Besides that though the entire ordeal got me thinking about scratchbuilding. Given how simple this building is I probably could have scratchbuilt something similar* for about the same amount of work I put into this kit, but without the associated feelings of frustration. 

The signs were scavenged from the leftovers of a Ma's Place kit.

And it got me thinking about scratchbuilding and kitbashing in general. I realized I've spent a lot of time on other people's projects: Cal's, Artz, and this Brick Price inspired build. They were pleasant, and I certainly learned a lot, but if I'm spending this kind of time and effort on projects, they should be my own. I have stacks of notes and sketches and drawings of my own ideas for scratches and bashes - or mingles as the case may be :-) - that I'd get proper satisfaction from building. I've been on this secondary highway for awhile. Now's the time to get back to the 400-series and hit the gas.

Hey! Close that door on your way out.

Ah, I see the off ramp up ahead. Fasten your seatbelt ... ***

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* Last fall I stumbled across online mentions of a famous layout built by Vivien Thompson called Eastbourne. The posts noted it was presented in the January 1968 issue of Railway Modeller magazine, so I hunted down a copy. It is a great layout and I enjoy her writing style. In that issue there's also a 2-page article called Tetbury locomotive shed by Michael Farr on how to build a little, single stall brick engine shed that's in the same genre as the plastic kit, although it has a water tank on one end. 

Tetbury locomotive shed by Michael Farr, RM, January 1968

The model is a simple and straightforward project, made mainly from card, and Mr. Farr notes it was his first model of a prototype. The brick papers are dated, and there seems to be a problem with proportions, but otherwise, after some minor changes, this, or something like this, would be a good first project in scratchbuilding, that once mastered would be a good stepping stone to other builds. It might be better to try a project like this than spend time fixing problems with a kit.

One interesting thing about this article is that the term 'scratchbuilding' isn't used. The project is simply referred to as modelling. I'll go way out on a limb and suggest that scratchbuilding didn't come into wide spread use until building from kits dominated the common understanding of what it meant to build scale models. Until then there was just model making. That sounds like something I should look into :-)

Oh, before I wrap up this digression I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the issue also contains a 1-page article by Jack Dugdale on how to model rabbits popping out of rabbit holes with the use of relays! Now that is scratchbuilding!

** My father used to refer to warps in wood as 'wows'. A wow had no associated quantitative measure. It could refer to any amount of unwanted curvature from a gentle, meandering bend to Stan Mikita meets Bobby Hull hockey stick wickedness. In this kit the degree of wow varies all over the place.

*** ... and turn up the radio: