What lies beneath

The last time I mentioned my model railway on this blog, it was a tale of woe about hamfisted drilling and the sudden and unwelcome mutilation of some of the track.

It took me quite a while to work out exactly how to fix this self-inflicted wound, but I did eventually come up with a workable solution and shortly before Christmas, I successfully cut out the mangled section of track, re-attached the upper layer of baseboard and fitted a new section of rail where I plan to construct a girder bridge.
It was a hell of a lot more difficult to repair than it had been to lay the track the first time around, so to prevent another unexpected separation of the upper layer of baseboard, I've added some extra woodon spacer blocks which are screwed, as well as glued in place.

Now, I don't do New Year Resolutions and I'm particularly wary about trying to stick to any hard and fast regime or daily activity. Anybody that follows this blog will already know how erratic and fickle my level of commitment can be, so I have amazed myself by actually doing something on the model railway every day so far this year.

Of course you'll now be expecting it to be almost complete.

Well, it isn't.

However, the good news is that I've fitted all the point motors and finished wiring them up, which was an extremely finicky process. I've also made a start on the operator control panel

Here's a quick peek at what lies beneath the baseboard. A handfull of point motors and a bunch of multicoloured wires.

I guess it may not seem like a lot of progress, but it is a strangely satisfying way to pass the time.

...and it was all going so well

A few days ago, I decided that I'd post an update on the state of my model railway. OK, it's fair to admit that there hasn't been a lot of progress since I last mentioned it, but I had, at long last, got all the track stuck down.

I had got power to all sections of the layout and successfully run a locomotive over the whole thing. I'd even been tempted to video this, but had decided to wait until I had all the points wired up so that we wouldn't have "Hand of God" intruding into scene to operate the points when the engine was directed into a siding.

Before fitting the point motors, I realized that if I wasn't going to make it really difficult to route some of the wiring, I needed to make an extra access hole in the baseboard beneath the upper level. So I got out the power drill and a 19mm spade bit to bore some holes that would allow me to get the pad-saw in and cut a nice, hand-sized hole.

When the drill bit broke through on the first hole, I discovered an unpleasant design flaw in my grand scheme.

The drill bit burst through rather abruptly and overshot into the underside of the upper level. If it had just buried itself into the undersurface it wouldn't have been so bad. Instead of that, it simply knocked the whole upper layer off, leaving it dangling by the hideously mangled section of track spanning the gap which will, in due course, have a bridge across it.

This was a bit of a surprise.

I'd made a really good job of glueing the upper level to little wooden pillars and I've never had a problem with Evostick woodworking adhesive before. It sticks like shi... Well, let's just say it's very effective at sticking things together.
The problem wasn't that the glue had failed, it was the wretched MDF board. The surface had simply torn away from the body of the board.  The cohesive strength of Medium Density Fibre board must be feeble. It's probably harder to tear the skin off a rice pudding.

I should have used plywood.

So, a bit of a set-back.
I've cut away the wrecked section of track and will be replacing it when I've worked out how to prevent a similar MDF failure happening if I have another visit from Mr Hamfisted.

Where are you now, Isambard Kingdom Brunel?

Chuffed

I decided that as the local model railway society were having their annual exhibition at the weekend, I'd go along and get a bit if inspiration for my own railway modelling activities.

It never ceases to amaze me how much care and attention to detail people will lavish on their layouts, so a couple of hours wandering around the various stands was well worth it.

There were some excellent examples of layouts in various scales from 'O' to 'N' modelled on prototypes from most eras of rail development, run with studied concentration by individuals or, on the more extensive set-ups, by teams of dedicated operators.

Hopefully, these pictures will give you some idea of the workmanship on show.

 

  

  

  

  

  

I particularly liked this small scene of industrial confusion.
It must have been based on a true story...

This will upset Dr Beeching

About a year ago, I mentioned that I'd rescued my abortive attempt to build a model railway layout, from the spidery gloom of our loft. Over the last week I've finally got around to starting the rebuild.

The image of railway modelling is not good. If ever there was a pastime that seems to epitomise nerdy geekness, building and running model railways would probably only be second to train-spotting. At any gathering there are few quicker ways of committing social suicide than to let slip that you've been re-wiring the signalling on your model of Boghampstead Junction. Even if you try to redefine the hobby as model engineering, as soon as you admit that the particular engineering that you are modelling is a Great Western Railways Castle Class locomotive, you might as well put on your anorak and leave by the nearest exit.

I can't understand why there is such a willingness to sneer at this sort of endeavour.
What is the difference between somebody painting a landscape to hang on their living room wall and someone painting the scenic background for a railway layout? Why is it deemed "peculiar" for somebody to spend many hours building a tiny, working replica of a diesel locomotive and yet if the same person was to spend the same time crafting jewelry it would be seen as "artistic"?
Even computer geeks are less derided than railway modellers.

...but I digress...

The good news is that my model railway layout has finally got off the drawing board and I have even managed to get some of the track stuck down onto the baseboard.
OK, the speed of development is laughable, but it is only slightly slower than that of the proposed West Coast High Speed Rail link from London to Glasgow.

For those who aren't too embarrassed to be interested:

• The baseboard is a 4ft. by 2ft. piece of MDF, glued to a simple wooden framework of 2"x1".
• The track is mostly Peco Code 80 Flextrack with Medium Radius electrofrog points, although I've used some lengths of Set-track on the sections that will be "behind the scenes".
• I've glued down the track onto cork sheeting.
• The small wooden pillars are to support the upper level of track, which will be the next thing to be added.
• The rectangular hole is to allow access to the underside of the upper level when it is in position.
• The curved hole at the lower left of the picture is where the incline to the upper layer begins.

For anyone too young to remember Dr Beeching and his impact on the British rail network, this link will take you to his Wikipedia page.

Here's a good tip... Ow!!

"Oooh, I don't think you wanted to do that..."
If there's a statement of the (literally) bleeding obvious, that must be it.

Without dwelling on the full, gory details, yesterday I made a fundamental mistake while using a Stanley knife to cut a sheet of cardboard; I failed to ensure that the tip of my fore-finger was behind the steel ruler that I was using as a straight-edge for cutting.
It bled very convincingly and even now, twenty-four hours later, it still stings like an utter bastard.

I haven't done something quite so gormless for a long while, but I suppose that it's one of those things that has to happen every so often to remind us that if we don't take care, inanimate objects will bite. Learning how to use tools safely is something that can be achieved without actual injury, as successful chain-saw operatives will confirm, but there's really nothing like pain for ensuring the lesson is properly reinforced.

I sometimes wonder what it must be like for parents. Just how can they bear to watch their children learn that fire, broken glass and all those other everyday hazards cause blood, pain and tears when they are not treated with the respect that they deserve.
I can't remember my Dad ever preventing me from using any of the tools in his workshop, but he must have had nerves of steel to allow me to use the electric drill when I was less than ten years old. I guess he must have shown me how to use it safely, but I was never aware of "being taught"; I just watched him do stuff and then he would go away and leave me to it.
When Reallyfatbloke acquired his table saw a few months ago, I asked him when he was going to teach his kids how to use it, because the fascination of the spinning teeth of a circular saw has a hypnotic attraction to the enquiring mind.
He went a bit quiet

So, to return to my lapse of concentration.
Blight-of-my-life was surprisingly sympathetic,
"Oh, that's really painful isn't it."
Unfortunately, she then went and spoilt it by saying it was my own fault for messing about with model railway stuff. (Yes, that's what I was cutting cardboard for. The model railway layout is back on course... Oh do stop sniggering and making 'anorak' jokes.)

I wonder if she'd have been a bit less callous if I'd done it whilst cutting a mount for one of her photographs...

The thing in the attic

I’ve been spending quite a bit of time in the loft recently.
We replaced our central heating boiler last year, and I decided it was time to upgrade the loft insulation; after all, the price of energy is rising all the time, so the cost-effectiveness of insulation continues to improve.

Simply whacking down an extra 200mm of rockwool across the entire loft space would have been a comparatively easy job, but inevitably it has become a much more complicated operation. I won’t burden you with the details, but if it’s finished by next winter I’ll be delighted.

While I was stumbling about in gloom, deciding which of the formerly valuable things really ought to be chucked out, I came across the beginnings of an N-Gauge model railway layout which I started a few years ago. It looked pretty sorry for itself, and although I couldn’t bear to consign it the scrapheap, I didn’t know whether the original plan would warrant the time and effort needed to complete it. I put it to one side for later consideration.

So it was a happy coincidence, when a mate of mine dropped in for a cuppa last Thursday and mentioned that someone had given him a model railway locomotive for Christmas. He was sounding dangerously keen on the model railway thing, and I’m afraid his enthusiasm may have been more infectious than I thought, because I started wondering whether to try to revive my moribund layout. Even more worrying; when I was at the newsagent today, I bought myself a copy of “Railway Modeller” magazine.


So thank you very, very much, Mr S.