Notice how the mirrored wardrobe doors of my old flat are in the background of this image. The move from that flat back in with my parents was very disruptive and continues to affect my productivity, as can clearly be seen from this shot taken in almost one year to-the-day from the previous one:
In spite of my failure to achieve a full layout in this timescale, it is still quite a good result to get this far considering the amount of learning curves I had to tackle: Ballasting the track, mounting backscenes and building a framework for the scenery. And that is in spite of all the downsizing I’ve had to do to fit into a smaller living space.
So, what of 2019? To be honest, I don’t really have a New Years Resolution for this year. I don’t believe that you should tie your hobbies to a time period in this way and you should just let yourself enjoy the process; hell, you may end up enjoying the build more than running it!
Aethelhurst station has been laid down at last. Platform two has been constructed over a week’s worth of evenings out of the excellent Metcalfe platform kits and is looking quite splendid.
The only thing that really marred this achievement was the fact that I couldn’t also construct platform one before I lost the use of the downstairs coffee table once my Dad and our Dog got back. I was hoping to get any railside structures on the layout built and placed so that I could lay the layout on the coffee table and thus have an undisturbed space to let the scenic glue set; I have no such room in my bedroom apart from the bed, and given that even something as lightweight as a cat can make sleeping uncomfortable for the occupant, I doubt I’ll be able to nod off with a layout on my lap.
In addition, thanks to my prior cowardice when it comes to weathering the track, I am now faced with the very real possibility of failing my 2018 New Years Resolution and extending the construction period of Timeslides into 2019. This got me thinking…
What does “complete” even mean?
The one thing that has to be understood about any creative project is that there really is no objective concept of “complete”. Anyone who doubts this can ask an art expert about Richard Dadd, the infamous Broadmoor Painter. The Fairy Feller’s Master-Stroke – widely considered to be his most important work – was never considered finished by it’s creator despite being worked on for nine years! There are apparently parts of the painting that are layered so much that they actually pop out of the canvas in the third dimension.
With this in mind, it makes sense for me to actually define what I consider to be a complete layout; Generally-speaking, for Timeslides to be complete, both scenes have to be fully recognisable as a preservation-era Station and a run-down goods yard. Simple enough, but let’s take this from a project-management standpoint and define specific tasks that need to be done:
Both stations are complete with enough detail for viewers to know their names and the contexts in which they exist, with Aethelhurst being the preservation-era station, while the second station is set to be called Eadley Halt, situated just outside the goods yard as a simple wooden platform about 15 metres (99mm in real terms) long.
All visible areas of track are ballasted, and all points work afterwards.
All scenery is constructed, with any hills being formed, painted and detailed.
Scatter is laid on the layout wherever needed.
The hill overlooking Aethelhurst station has at least a few trees overlooking the site.
This should give us a presentable, if basic, layout to aspire to.
Chocolate-Block Connectors: Trading one hell for another
There is something I need to get off my chest before we proceed to view the platform: Working with chocolate block connectors is a lot more fiddly than I expected:
What you see here is the reworking of the wiring under the goods yard into a more presentable and flexible state than it was previously, replacing bad soldering with the aforementioned connectors. The troubles began upon discovering that the thinner wire that had worked so well for soldering was an absolute nightmare to locate under the screws, so I reverted to thicker wire which meant ripping out all the soldering done previously. Oh well, it was a rubbish job anyway.
Now that the screws can actually grip the wire, you’d think things would be as straightforward as shoving them in and screwing them down, right? Nope. If you want to insert two wires into a single terminal (which you have to do if you want even a basically-sophisticated setup), you’ll need to unsheath a longer length than you’ll think you need (about 1cm in the case of the Peco blocks used here), try to intermesh them as much as possible and – taking care not to let the strands of wire stab your fingers – twist them as much as you can before carefully inserting them and screwing them in as far as possible.
Even then, it’s not an easy job especially when you’ve got many to do. Still, rant over, and if it saves frustration for just one modeller it would be worth it.
Building the platforms may well have been a long and semi-frustrating process, but it wasn’t without it’s highlights. In a truly exciting moment for me as a modeller, I was able to mock up Aethelhurst station and get a first glimpse of what it would eventually look like:
Necessarily lopsided on account of the fact that Platform Two is cut off near the baseboard edge, the station still looks the part. I am especially proud of an idea I had when siting the Sweet Shop; placing it in between the station building and the subway allows the prospective businessman to capture customers going to/from both Platforms One and Two, effectively doubling his potential customer base.
As revealing as this moment was, it still couldn’t escape my attention that the platforms were on the deck; typical heritage railway carriages don’t come with step access, and I don’t have the luxury of claiming that some American businessman bought the station and transported it brick-by-brick to some ranch in Texas, thus we need to build the walls underneath the platform surface.
Overall, the Metcalfe Platform Kits can be fiddly to assemble, especially when the platform curves (which, being a freeform kit, the modeller inevitably will want it to). The instructions are as clear and precise as they ever were, however, which is a relief for a kit that won’t have a definite final form.
One tip I can share with you is to choose your adhesives wisely. The platform walls come as a single piece of card folded up to produce a double-thick wall, so the use of contact adhesive works wonders; apply and spread it on both sides, wait around four minutes for the glue to get tacky, and then press the sides together along the length of the wall to get an instantly useable part. For any other assembly jobs it is generally best to stick with the recommended UHU adhesive, as that permits some adjustment while not taking too long to settle.
The end result was a truly superb-looking platform with enough length to accommodate a train of four typical heritage coaches and the locomotive. I was so pleased with it that I unboxed my prized heritage train of the Q1 and Maunsell Coaches to model it for a photo:
At last, around one-and-a-half years into the project, the layout has a name.
The name ‘Timeslides’ comes from a Red Dwarf episode of the same name. The premise of the episode is when Kryten is developing some photographs (in a timeline where the prevalence of Command Line interfaces rendered digital cameras unworkable, apparently) when he notices that the film has “mutated”, producing endlessly-repeating motion pictures locked to a particular moment in time. Not only does this happen despite it breaking the laws of physics – where does the energy required to keep the images moving come from, after all? – but it also permits people to step into that moment in time by converting the film to use in a projector and literally stepping into the scene! Things take a turn for the absurd when the dwarfers discover one final property of the photographs that can only be described as an assassin’s wet dream; doing things in the photos alters time itself!
The first part of that essentially encapsulates the theme of the layout. The station half of the layout is to represent the present-day preservation appearance of the line, having been restored to represent a snapshot in the line’s history. The goods yard half depicts a much more sorry part of the tale, with heavily-weathered and crumbling infrastructure showing a line clearly earmarked for the infamous Beeching axe. Not a perfect analogue but it came to me one day, so not being cut out for slogans or puns, I’ll take it.
Finally moving on from track weathering…
I’ve said before that weathering the track on your layout is one of the key details that separates a model railway from a mere train set; little did I know that achieving a decent effect that didn’t jam the points and ruin electrical continuity was such a major job. The amount of time I eventually spent on this job is probably what I thought it would take on a layout twice the size of this one, so needless to say, I shall be entrusting track weathering to a more rapid method next time!
Still, with this done I can finally move onto more satisfying aspects of the scenery. I had a week off from work planned recently and as such I planned to move away from the flickering screens that take up so much of our time these days, capitalize on the extra time and get to work on a more tangible, physical hobby.
Above is a selection of scenic items I had procured for the layout, undergoing the process of priming. Two Peco tunnel portals, four whitemetal SR concrete platform lamps and two station signs. I am aiming to represent an SR station similar to the ones you find on railways like the Watercress Line and the Spa Valley Railway, so while the lamps look the part I think I’ll keep the station signs for another project. I guess I should’ve researched for my station before buying the signs; In my defence I did go to Upstairs Downstairs on the Isle of Wight while visiting a friend there, and I’m sure you know how a good model shop can inspire a frenzy of purchases!
The tunnel portals I had bought earlier at Gaugemaster come with a dark grey plastic finish, so the first order of business was to apply many coats of paint onto them to give them a weathered sandstone finish. One coat of primer, two coats of Humbrol Matt 94 Natural Stone, one thinned application of Humbrol Matt 103 Cream (wiped off the stone faces to represent mortar) and one dry-brushing of a dark grey weathering mix. I’ll let you judge the results for yourself:
With regards to weathering the track, I did learn a valuable lesson in the end, which is to never rely on the points to carry electrical current, especially if they’ve lived in a toolbox for over a decade. Despite my best care to prevent any paint finding its way into the moving parts, and a lot of subsequent attacks with a track rubber and sanding of the blades, I could not get my sidings to work reliably, not even when testing with my newest, most reliable locos.
Nobody wants to go through all that painting only to discover that a large portion of their track cannot fulfil its primary function anymore, so my only recourse was to wire up the switch that originally provided power to the headshunt to power the other two sidings. Another arse of a job for the week…
I’ll be honest, I probably won’t show you the wiring job I did underneath the baseboard because it’s too embarrassing – I’ll probably replace the lot with a more professional job using screw-block terminals, anyway. Initially, I used wire too thick for the heatshrink I had, only to discover that when using the same stuff on the thinner wire it didn’t shrink enough! In the end I settled for a hack-job of wrapping the wire junctions in masking tape just to test it safely. When you combine this with how nervous and twitchy I was about scraping off my weathering paintwork and soldering connections to the rails, perilously close to the plastic sleepers, I honestly didn’t expect it to work…
But work it did. The Q1, despite developing a nasty habit of riding over the track when traversing the first point at the throat of the yard, did manage to run fairly slowly throughout the yard into all of the sidings. Its a pity that no other locomotives in my collection are as well suited to the yard as the Q1: The Merchant Navy and Class 47 are too long, the Large Prairie has problematic pickups and the 94XX Pannier suffered the same fate as the points living in the same toolbox, resulting in poor running and a dog-eared appearance.
Still, at least the buffers look the part when mounted, with UHU glue once again working wonders to bond plastic to metal and cork. The tunnel portals also fit upright onto the baseboard, although there is a clearance issue with the planned scenery (a road above the western portal), and the goods shed, which has forced me to adopt a different angle to the portal. It will be interesting to see how I eventually hide the wooden buttress that holds the backscene up.
So all in all, what could I do in a week? disappointingly little, it turns out. I was hoping to have mounted the plastercloth scenery and be ready for ballasting by now. Still, it is what it is. Let’s hope the scenery itself gives comparatively little trouble.
I’m making it law on this blog that every post contains at least one link to my Flickr account 😉
Joking aside, It would probably be helpful to include a link to the latest batch of photos documenting my progress on Flickr, given that both the photos and blog posts compliment each other, for words can say what pictures cannot and all that philosophical carp. Today’s story begins when I got bored with weathering my track, squinting at rails 80 hundredths of an inch in height painting them a subtly-different colour from the rails. I had no idea that such a small layout could demand so much painting at that level.
As is the way with the middle of the project, the choice was between something I’d rather put off, and another thing I’d rather put off. And with that, I broke out a sheet of recently-acquired 9mm plywood and got to work making good on the fundamental concept of this layout.
Making good on the name: Constructing the Backscene
Ever have one of those ideas that you think of as a minor addition to your project and yet they turn out to be genius? This was the case with using the guide rails pictured below:
You see, their original function was to keep the backscene straight across the centre of the baseboard, as my experiences of warping with plywood is pretty bad. Quite by accident, however, it made the bracing process a lot simpler than it would’ve been otherwise, as it clamped the backscene in the correct orientation. A little PVA glue sealed the gaps and added to the integrity of the structure.
But alas, such successes cannot last.
By the time it came to cutting out the side supports, the plywood was back to it’s old tricks again – chipping, de-laminating and generally ending up looking like the kind of workmanship found in a boiler cupboard. While this isn’t too critical, it is something to keep in mind for exhibitions in future.
This was where the guide rails really paid their dividends, as I could act with confidence that the centre of the backscene was going to stay put. The side supports were of a simple triangular profile, with a void in the middle for dealing with derailments mid-transition. From there it was a simple case of screwing the parts into the layout battens, and nailing the supports to the backscene, which serves the dual function of straightening and strengthening it.
The end result is a sturdy backscene, 20cm high for the best compromise between compactness and scenic space, that effectively separates the two scenes. It was such a simple job in the end, yet it’s effectiveness is undeniable.
The Goods Yard:
Bonus Trivia: The shortest railway stations in the UK
Here’s a bit of odd inspiration I came across at my new job (I’m a Junior Lab Technician now, coming up in the world!). It involves two railway stations in Scotland, less than ten miles apart just north-west of Inverness, called Beauly and Conon Bridge. Just before I reveal the length of the platforms, I’d like to point out that the class 158 DMUs that serve the stations can only open one door to let passengers disembark.
That’s right. 15 Metres. A Class 158 has carriages 23 Metres long.
Come to think of it, the goods yard could be receiving it’s own station after all…
There are many reasons to go to a model railway exhibition – meeting friends, buying supplies, observing the handiwork of those with a frustratingly-high amount of free time compared to yours. I was unable to meet Matt Wickham up at Ally Pally this year, so seeing as he comes down to this area of Buckinghamshire to visit family, this was an ideal place to meet up. Besides, for once I was the one showing him MY handiwork!
This exhibition seemed to be a celebration of 4mm scale, with an abundance of EM Gauge and P4 layouts on display. This means a lot more of the visually-pleasing finescale track than you would normally expect. Two such layouts have made my top three, with both of them at the upper end of the list.
The Top 3 Layouts
Set in the town of the same name in the County of Fife, Scotland, this Pre-Grouping layout is set in 1883, a nod to the fact that it is a P4 layout with a true 4mm/foot gauge of 18.83mm; this puts it’s time period in between the Tay bridge disaster and the construction of the Forth Bridge, meaning that the preferred onward method of reaching Edinburgh at the time was by ferry. I can only assume that the officials who planned goods workings came to the same conclusions, as the famous floating bridge designed by Thomas Bouch (of Forth Bridge fame) has been modelled, complete with working winches to load/unload the rakes of wagons.
Due in no small part to the lack of documentation from the period, Pre-Grouping railways are notoriously hard to research. Photography, if it exists at all, is often of a poor quality and almost never colourised, as I discovered when modelling some Metropolitan Railway coaches a few years back. This makes it doubly-impressive when anyone does such a good job of such a layout, especially considering the sheer number of liveries that have doubtless disappeared from people’s conciousness.
As such, Burntisland (pronounced Burnt-Island, it turns out) takes the well-deserved number one spot.
2) Hornsey Broadway
Normally I wouldn’t think too much of a layout set in the BR Blue period; too distant for nostalgia and yet too recent to lend itself to legend. Also BR Blue ruined the 5-PUL units. I know I’m too young to remember that too but its unforgiveable.
As an avid train-tripper, I am no stranger to train travel through London. Hornsey Broadway is a layout which, to my mind, perfectly captures the knotty nature of the tracks which pick their way through the capital, with a dash of 70s thrown in.
The result is an atmospheric mix of pleasingly-complex trackwork, drab buildings, British cars and the transition between BR Green and BR Blue liveries.
It can sometimes be hard to logically justify why I like a layout so much; maybe its the trackwork reminding me of going over all those flying junctions whilst travelling through London, perhaps its the thought of what train trips through London would’ve been like at a time fairly close to the time period when BBC’s Life on Mars was set. The one thing I do know, however, is that this is worthy of second place in my eyes.
3) The Summit
As O Gauge is such a massive scale, it’s appearances at shows are usually themed around small rural backwaters or industrial goods yards, where the focus is strictly on the trains due to space constraints. Very rarely do we get the appearance of a railway in a landscape that is often the preserve of the smaller scales, but this is exactly what happened with The Summit.
The layout represents the titular summit of the Settle & Carlisle line at Ais Gill. The breathtaking scenery of the Yorkshire Dales providing a dramatic and effective scenic backdrop to the many varied workings on the line (which includes an engine towing it’s own narrow-gauge launch, apparently 😉 ) without the need for too much space – the scenery represents just a few hundred feet either side of the line – and it remains effective despite a very simple trackplan. Little more than a crossover and a couple of lay-by sidings are in the centre of the layout.
When I say that the above Fowler 3F is like that RV from Top Gear that launched it’s own sports car, I’m being facetious. This is probably either a trip-to or a return from the works, as before the widespread rise of heavy road haulage and the roads needed to support it, slow goods trains were one’s best bet at getting something so heavy around the country for reasonable rates.
I must confess that I have not exactly been looking forward to painting the track, given the length of time that it took to get the test pieces presentable; and these were just made of a single Peco Double-Straight each. It seems that I have entered the sluggish middle-part encountered on any project; this is where the excitement of starting out has worn out it’s welcome, yet you’re not close enough to the end to be energized to finish what you started. This is the main threat to the completion of any project – more so than any material or monetary shortages I find – so it is imperative that we find reasons to smile about how far we have come.
A dusting of industry – weathering the track
Its quite amazing how something so simple as painting your model railway track can do wonders for it’s level of realism. Covering the shiny rail sides and sleepers with coats of subtly-different shades of brown is probably the rite of passage which allows a train set to graduate into a model railway.
The shot above is probably the one which illustrates this best; already the track has taken on the kind of sooty, dark brown appearance that the accumulation of rust, dirt and brake dust would bestow it. Obviously, the rail heads would have to remain shiny and exposed, doubly-so given how notorious N Gauge is for problems with current-pickup on short-wheelbase locos, but when combined with the crushed stone ballast, the track is likely to really look the part.
Creating the look of a SR-themed Heritage Line
Having been raised on a diet of heritage lines in the south such as the Mid Hants, the Swanage Railway and the Isle of Wight Steam Railway, there was no doubt as to what the setting would be for my first layout. Originally the plan was to model the Meon Valley Railway in an alternate timeline where the movement to preserve the line was successful, even if it pains me to admit that the Mid Hants would never have existed.
After a great many evenings working on the Metcalfe buildings upon my new modelling desk, I am in a position to mock-up their positions, which I have done below.
Two things are readily apparent here. The first is that there is significantly less space behind the goods shed than Anyrail would have had me believe, which will lead to a little creativity when it comes to the road bridge I plan to use as a scenic break. The second is that the platform shelter is disconcertingly close to the edge of the layout, with the outer platform being cut off at the baseboard edge. I’m going to need to avoid fragile details to that platform, such as lampposts and station signs (we can always say that the sign on that platform is beyond the baseboard 😉 ). The lesson here is that Anyrail may be a great program and a real timesaver, but if I’m to create accurate layouts in future, it is not to be completely relied upon.
A quick visual inspection will tell you that the Metcalfe country station is not of Southern origin, but it is in fact based upon a standard design of the Cheshire Lines Railway. With this in mind, a facelift with the help of some Humbrol was in order; Green platform shelter pillars, green window frames and green window sills are enough to immediately evoke the SR in the eyes of the viewer. Pity that when I thought of this, the windows were already assembled and mounted, leading to a moment of l’esprit de l’escalier on my part. Even so, I’m sure you’ll agree that it turned out rather well in spite of my short-sightedness:
So, what’s next?
Easily the top priority once the track is painted is to build the backscene which bisects the layout. Admittedly, the backscene is another thing I’m trying to put off, given that all the paintings I’ve ever done make as much sense to the eye as a piece of abstract art in the middle of an engineering drawing. If it makes me feel any better, I guess that my choice to model a countryside scene on both sides, even if its a little cliché, does mean that the scenery should be simple to paint.
As is the custom in the United Kingdom, the slightest appearance of sunshine brings on a plethora of attempts to make the most of the good weather before it buggers off behind the clouds once more. As such, my dad has taken to repairing and renovating the garden shed that once contained my childhood OO Gauge Model Railway, which he built.
I will admit that I probably didn’t appreciate this layout as much as I should’ve, being around 12 and all, as the track was eventually lifted and the shed spent the longest time under two jurisdictions; On the left there was the side for my brother, James, which was usually covered in car parts, and on the right was my side, where a lot of effort was expended wrecking the once-pristine surface with careless DIY. Now that all of that is gone, imagine my elation when I came to discover that thanks to my dad’s decision to use double-sided tape to secure the track, the outline where trains once ran is still very-much traceable. It’s not often that I get to play archaeologist.
So, without further ado, join me this week as I explore the relics of my forgotten start in railway modelling.
The ghosts of Hornby’s past
Coming into the shed, and observing the former trackbed for the first time in years, it is clear that the ravages of time, nature and UV light have not been kind to the shed.
So maybe time for a refurb…
A BRM-style review of the trackplan
For anyone making a start in model railways, I would seriously recommend getting the three volumes of the BRM Guide to Trackplans & Layout Design. These are superbly laid-out guides on how to design and build an effective model railway layout, and they contain colour plans and descriptions of many successful layouts of all sizes, as well as beginner-friendly bullet point lists of the good and bad points.
Another reason to get them is that they also contain articles clearing up some of the lingo in the hobby, such as what code 100 and code 75 mean with regards to OO Gauge track. The three volumes contain content which is progressively more advanced, with Volume One containing articles geared towards the basics like layout location and baseboard construction; Volume Two goes more in-depth with modelling locations, track design and maximising the space you have available; Volume Three has articles almost entirely focused on modelling real-world locations, so you can see how your skills are expected to develop over time. If you are just starting out, and you have to pick one, get Volume One.
So, for the sake of brevity, and because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (wink, wink!), let’s break out Anyrail 6, retrace the trackplan as best we can, and assess these remains in closer detail.
Starting from where the Pannier Tank and Mk1 Carriages are located, we move off into what can be considered the main run of the layout, negotiating the outer loop, we cross the diamond crossing and turn right on the points (the left heads into a rudimentary two siding goods yard) to enter the inner loop. After crossing the diamond crossing again, we cross the middle section into the right flank, rounding the curve passing the engine shed with it’s turntable, and we cross the spur leading to it to come back where we started.
As we can gather from that description, it was clear that dad intended to buy mostly tank engines as the motive power for the railway, and as it happened, these made up the majority of the fleet. That said, I did treasure a couple of tender locomotives in my fleet; a Midland 2P and the A4 Pacific Mallard as I recall. Many of my operating days on this layout were pockmarked by derailments of the tender engines as they tried to negotiate curves they were never suited for. The light-grey extension to the baseboard, which brings it up to the door frame just like on the other side, would’ve permitted 2nd radius curves to be used, saving a lot of frustration. Of course, this would also mean some kind of bypass on the left flank, before the diamond crossing.
While I can appreciate what dad did for me nowadays, given that he likely knew less about model railways then compared to what I know now (which, as I’m discovering with every problem I run into with my layout, is not a lot), back then, I clearly didn’t give this layout the love it deserved either. Granted, I was twelve, but I still think that if I had made a bit of effort to make the layout my own, i.e: added scenery and detail, it may never have been mothballed, but become a treasured surviving part of my childhood.
Use of the diamond crossing allows for two loops where only one might exist otherwise, extending the run.
Turntable and engine shed provide a perfect place for showcasing the fleet.
First Radius curves used too often on the main run, causing tender engines to derail.
Not much room for a substantial station.
Goods yard could easily be turned into something more substantial, such as a shunting puzzle.
Rudimentary scenic detail with no landscape leaves viewers in the dark as to the theme.
Last week, I divulged on my ulterior motives for visiting this show. While it should not be forgotten that The London Festival of Railway Modelling is something of an annual pilgrimage for me, if you know what the going rate is for what items you’re looking for, it’s pretty easy to snag a great deal at the various trade stalls. In this case, I spent £185 for a Bulleid Q1 and a four-car rake of Maunsell Carriages in Blood & Custard, consisting of a composite, two thirds and a brake, making the perfect small heritage line train for the Southern Region; I’ve seen Dapol Q1s alone going on eBay for almost as much!
Anyway, that was last week, today we get to explore what my top 3 layouts were at this illustrious event. These three will be listed in what I personally declare to be an ascending order of greatness, the top three based upon atmosphere, operational interest and inspirational value. Atmosphere concerns less of the amount and correctness of the detail present, but how it adds up to a cohesive whole to evoke the layout’s time period and situation. Operational Interest is self-explanatory, how many unique situations can be modelled within the layout’s trackplan, although this can be as simple as running a unique formation across the layout. Inspirational Value is a criterion designed to address an elephant-in-the-corner in today’s hobby, the inspiration of both outsiders (parents who bring their kids, basically), and the younger generation themselves; will they be able to look at a layout and identify simple yet effective ways to make it look good?
Number 3: Kensington Addison Road
Attaining the Bronze Medal this year is a layout with a distinctly bronze ambience! Must be all the brown around, but nevertheless this Grouping era layout offers a lively variety of colourful rolling stock undergoing a transition from a myriad of liveries to those of the Big Four.
Being an O Gauge work, there is necessarily a wealth of detail around, which is just as well because while the name implies a different place, the mention of Olympia on the station nameboard invites comparisons to it’s modern counterpart, Kensington Olympia. A quick trip to Google Maps and the Disused Stations page yields some interesting alterations over the decades, such as how the siding that the gangers are ripping up has now become platform 3 for the District Line. Depicting a well-known location in a different light is one premise where the immaculate, highly realistic layout approach shines.
‘Kam’ the Circus Elephant propels baby Yvonne Kruse towards the station building, a nod to a famous 1956 photograph
Heavy on atmosphere, this layout makes good use of a time period when the Grouping was in it’s transitory phase to display a myriad variety of liveries, as well as having a competent amount of operational interest. The inspirational value does suffer as a result of it’s phenomenal level of detail, however; this layout is a club effort, and as such only other clubs are likely to think that they can take something like this on. As such, Kensington Addison Road retains a well-earned 3rd place.
Number 2: Lacey Dale
Here we have an example of N Gauge in it’s element, even if the dramatic scenery is composed of relatively few different scenic items; a single shade of green scatter appears to be used across the whole layout, with white plaster cliffs and isolated bits of hedge making up the rest of the natural terrain. Even so, the end result can best be expressed by asking the reader to imagine what it would be like to look up from one of the platforms below. Personally, this layout brought back painful memories of cycling up the Dorset hills, even though there isn’t a road in sight!
Closer inspection yields the reason for Lacey Dale’s Silver Medal, however. This layout manages to present an exhibition-worthy spectacle whilst sticking to some fairly simple modelling techniques, which is handy when it comes to inspiring the audience to participate in the hobby. The trackwork is Code 55, weathered suitably to remove the gleaming aura of a train set, incorporating some creative pointwork on the lower level to keep the shunting fun and the space small. Stock objects have been visually upgraded, with the standard Peco buffer stops receiving a load of ballast in place of the moulded stone filling. The addition of passing loops to the high level lines fleshes the main line out by adding a place where slow trains can be bypassed.
Even though this is a club effort – just like Kensington Addison Road above – the simple-yet-effective nature of the scenery is significantly more accessible to the average lone modeller. While the scenery lacks the precision of most of the other layouts present, Lacey Dale did strike me as a layout that I could potentially replicate without decades of experience.
Number 1: The World’s End
This spot was a toss-up between Saltdean, a fictional O Gauge layout depicting a colourful variety of Pre-Grouping LSWR Traction and Rolling Stock (albeit in a location even the makers themselves admit would be impossible to reach by an adhesion railway!), and this one. The World’s End is a rather vertical layout set in the Yorkshire town of Knaresborough, which Primary School children may identify as the home of an iconic Prophetess – Mother Shipton.
The layout itself is an impressive collation of significant landmarks in Knaresborough. The first thing which strikes you upon viewing this layout is the deep, expansive valley, along with the impressively fortified viaduct spanning it; it is fitting that this structure is the focal point of all the railway action, in spite of the fact that there’s not a lot going on in terms of trackplan complexity. There are also quirky houses sat atop the cliff overlooking the River Nidd, The building acting as a booking office to Mother Shipton’s Cave, the ruins of Knaresborough Castle and of course the station itself.
I think for this layout the number one spot isn’t earned so much by any individual elements but in how the whole is presented. There is a certain depth to the layout which is rare to see, with the massive valley and the emergence of the station from a hill atop the cliff. In terms of inspiration, the link to Mother Shipton would probably pique the interest of anyone who learned about her in school, as I certainly did. Overall it does a great job of bringing one of Britain’s most quirky and interesting towns to life in model form, and as far as I am concerned it is okay to be personally swayed by one factor of many.
Until March 2019 rolls along, thank you for reading, and happy modelling!
So the London Festival of Railway Modelling has come and gone for the year, leaving a trail of empty bank accounts in it’s wake. At least, if the other patrons had an experience like mine.
My current collection of N Gauge rolling stock, treasured though it is, consists of a motley band of locomotives and wagons in a toolbox, as they have been stored since childhood. A 94xx Pannier Tank, a Large Prairie Tank, a Bulleid Light Pacific and an Intercity Class 47 make up the locomotive roster, and the ravages of time and movement have not been kind to a couple of them. Needless to say, today I take better care of my trains.
As for the rolling stock, A smattering of vans, open wagons and bolster wagons make up the goods fleet. Amazingly there is only one passenger coach in the whole box! A chocolate & cream suburban carriage with pizza-cutter wheels and a missing underframe, which would be fine if the motive power was a Peckett saddle tank like Teddy here, but I have serious doubts that such a tiny machine would be able to cope with insulfrog points even if I did have the will and ability to make one in such a diminutive size. Another highlight is the trio of Mk1 Parcels Carriages in Intercity colours that I got with the 47, and examining it next to a product of our time produces some interesting comparisons:
There are too many improvements to count. The pizza cutters on the bogies? Gone, replaced by finer, chemically-blackened wheels. Fine detail abounds, of both the moulded and separately-fitted varieties. NEM pockets fitted as standard, making conversion to Kadee knuckle-couplers a cinch. Tiny decals on the windows. Working, yes, working corridor connections (although not flexible enough for setrack, as I found out to my embarrassment). It even has pickups on the wheels for what I assume could be a plug-in lighting system.
In short, this standard of detail in such a small size – ready-to-run, no less – would’ve been inconceivable in my youth. Still, no train goes anywhere without motive power, and for that purpose I have deployed the most powerful 0-6-0 ever to run on Britain’s rails: The SR Q1 Class.
Designed by Oliver Bullied CBE as a War Department machine for the Southern Railway, which lacked a decent goods haulage capability being preoccupied with passenger workings throughout the densely-populated south. Peculiar features such as the casing around the boiler were designed with non-strategic materials in mind, such as using the plentiful but structurally-anemic Idaglass Glass-Fibre Insulation to lag the boiler. The class long outlived any expectations of an Austerity design and soldiered on until 1966.
This Dapol rendition uses a tender-drive mechanism with a cardan shaft running through the cab, a luxury which is more easily afforded than on, for instance, a 4F, owing to the Q1 class’ high-sided tender. Moulding and rivet detail is very precise and well-proportioned. Separately-fitted detail abounds, with the sanding gear being particularly prominent. Running qualities are stellar even before running-in, with a smooth and powerful quality being readily apparent.
So as I sit here, £185 poorer (£90 for the Q1, £23.75 for each carriage), I look forward to a time when I can view this procession lazily trundling it’s way around the layout, surrounded by the cheerfulness of preservation on the station side, and the mournful decay of a declining railway in the goods yard; okay, in the latter context the Maunsell carriages wouldn’t fit, but the Q1 was ultimately a mixed-traffic machine, and it’s many pickups will serve it well going over the basic starter-set pointwork. This year’s turn at Ally Pally was a rare moment of extravagance for me, and one which yielded some very pleasing results. Want to know the full story? Next Week 🙂
When I began this layout I never thought that the first house move it ever went through would be so early in it’s life. There was only track onboard with a couple of wires for power, so unsurprisingly it reached my parents house more-or-less intact, but that got me thinking: Would I be so lucky next time?
It’s both an interesting and unsettling question, as I’m one of those people who wince at any damage to personal property, the effect rising exponentially on account of the hours put into it’s creation. There are a few ideas in my head right now, such as making the platforms out of Plywood like Youtuber New Junction has done, keeping buildings and other fragile detail as far inboard as possible (meaning the outer platform would have no protruding features such as canopies and lighting masts), and even a full cover for the layout. In a way, this is like building a layout for the exhibition circuit, minus the modelling pedigree required to achieve such results, which every minute spent on this project is forcing me to appreciate!
Shifting the terrain
A lot of vexation has resulted from the prospect of constructing the scenery, not least due to the aforementioned predicament of it being a mobile layout; this was the original plan as drawn up in Anyrail 6:
Clearly, there was some work to be done, especially with regards to the left transition point. Although I could have created the end of an airfield on the right hand side, with something of an air pageant going on with parked warbirds, it simply wasn’t worth the compromises suffered with regards to train lengths. Enter the revised version:
Quite a dramatic change in terms of operational interest, even if the upper half looks a little more vanilla for it. I had briefly considered building a high-level station where the treeline is on this plan, using flexible track as a way of building skills for future layouts, but no amount of fiddling with the upper scenery would permit enough space. Pity, I could have built a disused high-level station that passengers would have viewed as they traversed a footbridge from the still-operational station building, leading to the low-level station where the trains arrived. The high-level station could’ve doubled as rolling stock storage, too.
On a related note, The setting for the layout has undergone a humbling. I was originally inspired by the tragedy of the Meon Valley Railway in Hampshire, with it’s lifelong predicament of being a stillborn main line to the south coast, it’s large platforms seeing traffic befitting a provincial branch line. You can probably start to see the issue, as I’d need platforms long enough for 8-12 carriage rakes to make the scene work with 4 carriage trains, and the layout in it’s altered state could only provide platform space for strictly for the latter. Needless to say, I’m still enamoured with the concept of an underutilised backwater main line, so perhaps one for a garden shed.
Another factor in the move away from a specific prototype comes from being inspired by the work of Budget Model Railways on Youtube. I often worry about the future of Railway Modelling as a hobby, specifically about how many of the younger generation are being inspired to take part, and these two recently did a sterling job of highlighting the fundamental “model railway” vs. “train set” elitism within the hobby:
Eye-opening in many ways. I was clearly aiming too high with my layout (my very first one, no less), and that was probably a factor in my sluggish progress in the first few months of it’s construction. In a way it’s quite vindicating to know that you can get highly attractive results with a layout using rather simple, some would say “amateur”, methods. More to the point, these methods can be completed reasonably quickly, which is handy since I plan to honour my New Year’s Resolution by having a complete layout by the time 2019 rolls around.
A fairly minor amateur error has occured.
In my excitement to get my track plan nailed to the baseboard, I neglected to properly test the electrical viability of the layout, specifically the headshunt on the Goods Yard side. You see, parking a locomotive there is impossible since I’m using Insulfrog points that only pass power onto the track they are switched to. Since the power leads feed into the main circuit – thankfully under the scenery, as some of the sleepers there are no more due to piss-poor soldering – setting the points to direct the loco into the headshunt will prevent power feeding into the goods yard, stopping all traffic.
Thankfully, a fairly simple solution comes in the form of adding power feeds to the headshunt, along with a switch to allow me to isolate the yard when the points are switched to the running line.
Back to Basics
As much as I’d like to pepper my layout with unique 3D-Printed buildings, fancy signalling electronics and generally build an exhibition-quality effort, I know I’ve got to get a grip and merely aim for a decent effort. There’ll be plenty of time, money and therefore layouts to hone my skills later on. In the meantime, I can rekindle my love of Metcalfe Card Kits (pictured above), how intuitive and cleverly designed they are and how attractive the final result is.
So, to myself, It’s my first damn layout, give me a break…