Category Archives: Thinking

Solifluction

Like me, the chances are you will have to look that up, but it is a geographical term relating to the effects of thawing and freezing of, for example, soil above permafrost. Each year, the thaw on the surface leads to over saturated soil above the permafrost, and it slips. Then it freezes again, and the cycle repeats. The consequence of all this is to create small steps in hillsides, etc, as show in the (linked) photo below from this very helpful page.

Solifluction in the Cairgorms

What has this to do with model railways? Well, recently there has been some discussion in various places, but particularly on Mike Cougill’s blog, about how great our hobby is from the perspective of personal satisfaction. We don’t just model a locomotive, as would someone building a radio-controlled vehicle, aircraft or boat. We model the whole scene, and also add movement and logical operation. (Nothing moves on a real railway without there being a purpose. This is also true of some layouts, where the builder has taken the trouble to find out about the real railway.) What the hobby teaches us, more than anything else – more than joinery, basic electrics and often some electronics, sculpting (of landforms), architecture, geography, history, economics, civil engineering, mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, metal working, use of tools,  and so on – is observation.

Observation of the real thing.

All good models start with an observation of the real thing. Generally speaking, unless you are building a model of something akin to the creations of Roland Emmet, railway modelling is not an abstract art – it is nowhere as difficult as that. As an art, it starts with observation. I learned about bonds used in brickwork from Iain Robinson (who has today introduced me to the word solifluction!), via the Railway Modeller, I have learned a lot about texture and colour from Barry Norman and Gordon Gravett. I have developed a love of history beyond railways thanks to the hobby – school put me off that! I could go on. (I often do, according to some many…)

Sometimes it works the other way round, too. I was motivated to learn about shading and perspective at school in art lessons by being allowed to do a perspective drawing of a railway station, with shading to show the direction of the sun. I also learned about observation from my 5th form (year 11, eleventh grade) art teacher, when trying to paint a tree and failing because I had used brown and not a few shades of grey (fewer than 50, I hasten to add!) In fact, I put my astounding performance* in my art exams at the age of 16 down to the drive to observe, rather than anything else, and that came from the hobby.

So, solifluction is another thing I have learned from the hobby, and I shall keep an eye out for it in future!

If you weren’t, you will now…

Simon

*In case anyone is wondering, the words “astounding performance” were used by my art teacher (not sarcastically), who had “inherited” our class from someone who had left part-way through the year, to describe my achievement against my natural ability. I failed. 

Satisfaction. Guaranteed.

Craftsmanship.

How many trains can I (safely and reliably) drive at once? One.

You may think differently about your own abilities. Self-delusion is a great joy.
Until that train running around the loop unattended, whilst you run a second train, runs into the turntable well due to a mis-set turnout.

If it takes me five years to build the single loco to run that train, and effectively four re-builds during the process, why should I worry? I will be learning and improving all the while. I expect my layout to take between 10 and 20 years to build, after all. In the interim, there is the brass market and RTR diesels to keep me going, plus re-wheeled freight cars. All of these can be upgraded or replaced.

There is no rush to the finishing line, for there is no finishing line! The aim of a pastime is to pass time. If I can acquire new skills and a heightened sense of achievement along the way, well that’s as good as a hobby gets, isn’t it?

An uncompromising attitude

Trevor Marshall has just come out all guns blazing on the issue of a “no compromise” attitude.

Rather than fill his comments to overflowing, here is my take on the matter.

The laws of physics make it impossible for me to have a model which is perfectly to scale. Likewise, although my models are steam-powered, it is at some remove: the steam drives a turbine at the power station. The cost of real estate means I cannot produce a model station that is to scale proportions in my chosen scale, and I have to accept sharper curves – at least at the end of my garage – than a real railway would tolerate anywhere outside a dockyard. I cannot even model the full width a model railway “requires” if the layout is to be accurate.

I accept those constraints as the parameters in which I have to work. This is not a compromise, it is a set of requirements, a specification if you like. I have to accommodate running fits on bearings that if scaled up would suggest an urgent need to visit the shops, but a running fit is a running fit. To get around those curves, I need to give consideration to having a bit more sideplay in some of the driven axles of steam locos – not much, but an engineering tolerance as part of a specification is an engineering tolerance. On a consolidation, I may simply have some blind drivers, as the prototype did.

The above is as near to a list of “givens” as I will get, but the only “druther” I can come up with is that I’d rather (I druther, for the very few who wondered) not call it that.

Re-framing the mindset

A 42″ radius curve is not, therefore, a compromise. It is a parameter in setting out design constraints and tolerances: all rolling stock must successfully negotiate a test curve of 40″ radius (it being wise to go slightly below the operational requirement).

Similarly, although railways are a lot wider than most of us realise, compared to their length they are long, straggly things, so not modelling the full right of way will help with creating this impression – this is an artistic response to the constraints, rather than an engineering one.

Level of detail requires a bit more care. Proportion and colour have more impact than anything else, and I am still building up my knowledge on the prototype. For now, I will accept the incorrect bracing on my composite box cars, knowing that I can return to improve or replace these models at a later date. I also agree that unless it is there in the RTR or kit model to begin with, I am not going to model details which I cannot see on the layout without the aid of a dental inspection mirror.

Likewise, if I know that there should be a collection of small rods, cranks and levers hiding in the murky depths of the underframe, I may not model this as a series of separate rods and clevies, etc, but as a piece of carefully shaped wire or strip. Where something is visible, such as the various connections at one end of a freight car, for transferring movement in the brake wheel around the corner to the underside, then it will be modelled in greater detail. Not with greater care, as the same level of care will be used across the piece: a right angle is a right angle, whether it is a fully modelled crank or a bent piece of wire.

Standards

To me, “compromise” is not about modelling standards (e.g. wheel profiles), rather it is about the standard of modelling, and this is where “no compromise” comes in. If I make something, I can ask myself some simple questions:

  • Is this the best I can achieve, given my current skill set?
  • If I were to re-do this now, would there be a noticeable improvement?
  • If I were to re-do this now, would it hold up something more important to me?

The first question is a positive re-wording of the simple question: “Have I sold myself short?”

The second question looks at where I am on the learning curve – it may be the best I could do, having not done this before, but having now done this, maybe I am on the steep part of the learning curve, and I can easily do a better job second time around and lo reinforce th learning I have just undertaken.

The third question looks at my personal priorities, and helps estimate the “nagging quotient”, I.e. “How important to me, at the moment, is getting this detail right? Will it sit at the back of my mind, nagging me, or can I leave it until a future date when other, bigger, projects are out of the way?”

Setting a realistic outlook

Such a mind set is a realistic way of working with a “no compromise” attitude. Either something is an operational constraint which determines tolerances (e.g. minimum radius), or it is something which is as good as I can achieve at this moment in time. That doesn’t mean I won’t come back and upgrade or replace it in the future. This certainly is not a “good enough” policy: it is a “is this as good as I can get at the moment?” attitude.

“No compromise” means not selling oneself short. It does not mean working to exact scale of everything. Compromise means settling for sound best, for less thn is possible; for creating a mental dwell-point, with the constant nagging thought of “if only”, rather than a positive, “Look what I did within my constraints”.

So, what do you want? To identify ways of maximising the possibilities of working with as well as within your constraits, or to spend time regretting the short-cuts and short-selling of one’s potential?

All I can say is, start building a freedom layout, and enjoy yourself as your extend your abilities beyond your horizons.

Intelligent Discussion

Unless you have stumbled upon my blog for the first time, Mike Cougill will be no stranger to you. As I have said before, the thoughtful postings on his blog have helped pull me out of my modelling doldrums more than once. And not because he gave me answers, either – not even because he gave me questions – but because he guided me to ask myself the right questions. Mike is very well read on matters such as “thought leadership”, which is not as nebulous a phrase as many might think – see my previous sentence about guiding someone to asking themselves the right questions – and has identified a niche in the model railway hobby for thinking. If you want to see how this operates, then have a browse at the excellent O Scale Trains Magazine website (out of print back-numbers are free), and read his column in issues 37, 38 and 39. If you like what he wrote there, you will enjoy the rest of his output, which produces such scenes as this:

Still life with gold bricker Still life with gold bricker

Modelling Masterclass

Under the series title “Masterclass Modelling”, Mike has published 2 books so far: the out of print “Pieces of the Puzzle” and the sublime “Detailing Track”. An e-book on Covered Hoppers, Volume 1 of a promising series on modern freight cars, has also appeared and provides detail photos that every modeller of these vehicles need. I don’t model these vehicles, but being fascinated by the prototypes, I bought it and learned quite a lot in the process!
“Pieces of the Puzzle” was Mike’s first venture into publishing, and as he admits, was a “learning experience”. It is now out of print, but Mike feels that issues 1 and 2 of The Missing Conversation make a fuller and clearer exposition of his thoughts on this title. I will review this no further, except to say that I really enjoy re-reading it.

If you want to learn how to achieve this, then the book is for you. If you want to learn how to achieve this, then the book is for you.

“Masterclass Modeling Series® #2 -Detailing Track” is a masterpiece worthy of a much wider audience in the hobby. Here is a book which deals with the prototype and how to model it, and is written for a discerning audience. How discerning? Well, if you wish to model track rather than simply lay track and ballast and paint it, then you are discerning enough to buy the book, and you will not be disappointed. It is profusely illustrated, informative, and helpful. Mike’s aim is to encourage modellers to “take the first step toward making that dream of a railroad in your mind a reality”, and this he does via the simple 3 stage process of outlining the design and use issues for the prototype, how these might be modelled, and then he actually does this, step by step. For a flavour of Mike’s approach, read this blog posting, and learn how to start producing work such as this:

“Hand laying turnouts isn’t hard. Getting over your reluctance and internal fear is the hardest part.”

I would have liked a bit more information on track from 100 years ago, when things were less standardised, and more generally on the placement of switch stands, but if you think track is a model in its own right and a key component of the whole modelling scene, then this book is for you, regardless of the country, period and prototype of your modelling, and I would advise that you order it now!
On page 46, Mike offers the best piece of advice I have ever seen, not just about modelling track, or indeed about modelling: stop before you go too far. (In this context, do not file too much off, do not over-detail.)

The Missing Conversation

Having identified a gap in the market for “folks looking for an in-depth discussion about the hobby” Mike has created The Missing Conversation with the simple aim of speaking to this “deeper, more thoughtful” audience. The Missing Conversation is built on three basic principles, which are fundamental to Mike’s approach to the hobby:

A scale model should be consistent from top to bottom, including the wheel profile and track gauge.

If the hobby is worth doing, it is worth doing well.

Details matter.

Apart from the publisher’s piece on the “back cover” (it is not a book, but a pdf) there are no distracting adverts. There is also no letters page – the OST blog serves this function, after all, and provides a forum for the conversation. The layout of the book is clean, simple, and elegant, including a reasonable amount of “white space”. The latter is important, as any student of Japanese art will tell you. It creates in this case “thought space”, i.e. it encourages thinking. There is no visual crowding to be carried over into the mind, so there is space to think. Reading The Missing Conversation is not to be hurried. Like good poetry, it repays careful thought about the phrases used, even the very words – and like good poetry, it can also be enjoyed as a leisurely read in its own right. It is not for everyone, I admit, but personally I think it is worth every penny. So far, The Missing Conversation has had the following issues:

Volume 1 – Layout Design: Asking why instead of how
Volume 2 – The Essentials
Volume 3 – Standards. Finescale standards in Proto:87 and Proto:48, with a feature on Warner Clark’s outstanding Proto:48 layout
Volume 4 – Craftsmanship. Featuring the work of Tony Sissons in 1:87 and Tom Mix in 1:48.
Volume 5 – Switching: More than meets the eye. Operations from the perspective of real railroaders.

There are also two free special editions, Starting in Scale Modelling and Questioning Normal, and Mike has produced two useful short introductory pieces on track, Handlaid Track and Turnouts, which are free to download and disseminate (which is what I have done here).

In short, if you want someone to tell you what to think, Mike’s published output is definitely not for you. But then, if that was the case, I doubt if you would have read this far. Would you enjoy The Missing Conversation? I cannot say, but download the free articles, and if you enjoy them, you can ask yourself the correct question!

The Missing Conversation provides thought leadership for the hobby.

Pictures reproduced with kind permission of OST Publications.

Take as much inspiration as needed, but no more…

My attention was recently drawn (in the USA and Canadian Railroads section of RMWeb) to some frankly amazing modelling posted in the blog area of the Model Railroad Hobbyist site, the work of Stefan Foerg (diorama), Gary Christensen (cars) and Rodney Walker (engines):

Superb, isn't it?

The comment has been made that this is “(i)n some ways inspiring, in other ways it makes me want to give up and run screaming into the night“. It is inspiring in very many ways, but it does not put me off.

Any good modelling shows us what is possible, but the diorama builder apparently does do this for a living. Apart from the time he is able to devote to it, his skills are routinely and regularly practiced, so he will automatically be better at this than most of us. Like many things, skill is about practising and honing one’s abilities as much as natural aptitude.

What it does provide is the opportunity to re-assess our own priorities.

At one extreme in the hobby is the ultra-detailed small diorama, with everything just so but nothing moving. At the other might be the operating layout based on snap-track, or maybe flexi-track, where scenic details are scarce but enough to provide a background and purpose to operations, and equipment has come out of the box, but there is a focus on making sure that everything works well, so that the model can be operated in the manner of the prototype. Both of these require care in execution, if they are to fulfill their designer’s needs, but where that care is allocated and time is spent differs.

For most of us, though, it is a question of finding the balance between these two extremes and our available resources of time, money and space. I don’t mention skill as to some extent, if one has more time available, then skills can be improved. If lacking in time, then money may offer a solution (i.e. pay someone else to do it for you!) and if space is lacking, then a small working diorama does offer a lot of opportunities to focus the other resources into something which can lead to chance to develop skills even if there is also little time available. It also affects the scale in which one works.

There is no secret in this, and we can admire the work of others even when we feel it is beyond us, for typical this reflects their chosen approach to modelling. Viewed this way, things are at best inspiring, at worst a pleasant reminder that other people want other things out of their hobby. Ultimately, it all leads back to working out what defines a “freedom layout“, being happy with that, and getting on with building the dream layout that fits into your available space. (And yes, I have been making some progress, but at the moment it has been painfully slow and not yet worth reporting.)

Personally, I thought the finish on the automobile was incredibly realistic: clean and polished without being out of place. In fact, I felt this looked better than everything else, which is why I included a link to that particular photo.