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.