I'm going to need a lot of trolley wire support posts as I did on the Central Experimental Farm layout. I was curious about what making these ones would entail, so I went ahead and built the one for the Poppyfield Flats siding to find out. It's location was hinted at in yesterday's test photo*. Here's a bit wider angle view of that image to get a better idea of where the post is located on the Flats.
The post has two wire support arms: one for holding the wire over the siding, and the other for the wire over the Flats perimeter track. The post itself is just a piece of 0.100" x 0.100" square-section styrene strip with floral wire for the trolley wire support arms. Some plastic bolt castings were used to provide a little bit of greeblie detail. The post was simple to make, but I can see that making a lot of them is going to be time consuming.
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*In my reading last year about Malcolm Furlow's work on the San Juan Central it was noted that he would light and stage scenes on the overall unfinished layout as construction went along to assess how things were shaping up for taking scenic photos instead of waiting til the end. This seems like a good idea and I find it's helping me develop the scenery on this little layout. I can see a number of places in yesterday's test photo that I want to fix up before I get too far along.
I need a lot of trees. Maybe 50. Lots for the Mt. Lowe layout. Some for that lumber shed diorama. A few to have around just in case. Right now I'm twisting up armatures for conifers. It'll take awhile to make 'em, but time's not an issue.
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.
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.
