Sunday, May 3, 2009

I ought to build some more kits!

I'm still making progress on the Campbell station. This weekend's project was adding the corbels or roof brackets that support the fascia, and making the lath screen above the operator's bay. See the attached pictures.


Most of the structures I've built over the last few years have been scratchbuilt. I had an idea or picture of the building I wanted, and I used only generic parts - window castings, plastic shaped to look like clapboard siding, stripwood, and wood sheet -- to try to reproduce that building. By scratchbuilding, I get to build exactly the building I want. As I've complained elsewhere, many commercial building kits don't look like they belong in California or the small Santa Clara Valley towns I model. I also get to think about the design of buildings and fitting each to the space I have, giving me a bit more of a challenge and more work to build the model.


Now, most model kits aren't that much of a challenge. There's plastic kits that could be assembled by "shaking the box". There's also wood structure kits that give you a set of rough plans and a box of the same parts you'd use when scratchbuilding, and turn you loose to build the model neatly with none of the fun of designing the building. Kits like that have kept me scratchbuilding (though I'll occasionally use such a kit for raw materials or as a starting point for other work).


Building the triangular roof supports, though, reminded me of what a good kit can provide. I'd gotten e-mail a couple weeks ago about a craftsman house model I have on a shelf layout; the sender wanted to buy the kit, but couldn't find it. (That's not surprising; the manufacturer only built those kits for maybe a year, and disappeared soon after. It's not surprising the kit would be hard to find 15 years later. The kit is the Timberline Scale Models "354 Juniper Street" kit for those who care.) I couldn't help the sender with the kit, but I did find the old instructions and sent off a copy.


Looking at those instructions reminded me how a kit can be useful when it teaches me skills. The kit instructions have you build the roof supports from stripwood using a technique I'd never seen before. First, you cut the diagonal piece from a template. Next, you use a credit card to square off a pair of long pieces of stripwood, and glue the diagonal piece in place between the two. Finally, you cut the glued piece off the longer pieces, and you're done!



It's a neat technique, and I'd forgotten about it til I photocopied the instructions. The brackets came together perfectly, and you can see them applied to the model in the original photo. I learned other techniques from that kit - using white glue and gesso to simulate stucco, using multiple contrasting colors on windows and window frames, adding rafter ends to super-detail a model, etc. It's a good example of why kits are useful, even for folks like me who think they know what they're doing. Supposedly, Fine Scale Miniatures kits were also good places to learn model techniques because of the details about weathering.

I'm also grateful to whichever kit taught me to use double-stick tape to hold down parts. I used that trick to build the lathwork strips hanging above the operator's bay. In that case, I laid out the strips on top of the tape (pressing my finger to the tape to remove some of its stickiness.) I then glued the cross-boards across all the strips, and glued some more on areas that would be cut away after the glue dried to hold everything together. After 20 or so minutes, I pulled the assembly off the tape, cut the whole piece to fit in the roof gable, then painted and installed the lathwork. I always have double-stick tape in my desk drawer for modeling - it's an essential now. It's a much nicer technique than the old-fashioned glue-on-wax paper approach.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Lingering Projects

Model railroading stays as my primary hobby because the hobby morphs to be whatever I need it to be at the time. If I want to be social, I'll do model railroad operations. If I feel like reading about the history of California, I do that. When I have the urge to create, I've got that too. The diversity of the hobby--whether it's the range of construction techniques (wood, plastic, metal; mocking up, building with care, painting), history, planning, or socializing--gives me a fun outlet that matches whatever my current mood is.

The drawback of all this is that it's really easy to pile up half-finished projects. There's usually a few projects sitting around that either got half-done and placed on the layout, or partially-built kits sitting on my workbench, or materials and kits sitting in the closet waiting for me to start them. That's not unique to model railroading; my wife knits and weaves (among a bunch of other craft hobbies), and t-shirts with the slogan "she who dies with the most yarn wins" suggests that fiber arts hobbyists are just as bad as piling up potential and half-finished projects as anyone else.

I hadn't done any model building recently, so I decided to go after some lingering projects on Saturday morning. I started with a freight car model that's been half-built, but I found the assembly frustrating, so I ended up turning to a model I've been building for at least a year - the Campbell S.P. station. As I picked up the kit again, I reflected a bit on why I'd given up on building it previous times.

Campbell's a major scene on my layout; it was a small farming town with multiple canneries, a bank, and a movie theater. There were times it must have been a busy place, but all the pictures I've seen of the railroad station shows it quiet and sleepy. Being the railroad agent must have been a slow job.

The station itself has some memorable features. It was originally built in the 1880's by the South Pacific Coast narrow gauge railroad that went over the hills to Santa Cruz. Like many railroad stations of the time, it was built in the Eastlake or Stick style, with lots of wood and machine-produced trim. Because it wasn't built by its later owner, the Southern Pacific railroad, it isn't an exact match for any of SP's "standard" depots, and has a bunch of interesting features - elaborate wood bracing on the baggage doors, gables above the station agent's office, and elaborate wood trim in a few locations.

When I started the Campbell station, I wasn't sure how to approach the model. I could build the entire station from scratch, but I was looking for shortcuts. American Model Builders does make a really nice kit for SP's "type 23 depot". The AMB kit is about the same size as the Campbell station, and had a lot of detail that I wasn't sure I could scratchbuild well. I'd also been interested in trying one of their kits. When I saw one of the kits at the hobby shop, I bought it as a starting point.

The Campbell station's hit a few roadblocks during its construction. First, I had to figure out how to "kitbash" the AMB kit to a floorplan closer to the Campbell station. I remember photocopying the laser-cut pieces for the AMB kit, and trying to figure out how to re-shuffle them to have the same configuration as the Campbell depot. I also found the Campbell depot had eight more windows than the kit, so I had to go poking around for window castings that would look appropriate on the model. It took a bit of courage to start cutting and rearranging the walls, but I managed to do it. There was another hitch when I realized the walls weren't turning out to match the station, and so I ripped some of the work apart, got the walls rejuggled, and... put the kit back on the shelf.

Then, last year, I finally assembled the walls together, and started looking at the roof. The roof's a mix of angles, with gables going off in all four directions. The roof was intended to be glued on (sealing the interior), so I spent some time putting clear glass in the windows, painting the interior walls black so they weren't noticeable, and cutting wood to form the roof.

Then I sat on the project. Assembling the roof was going to involve some tedious cutting and fitting, and I wasn't completely happy with how everything was coming together. I eventually got frustrated, put the half-built kit on the layout to keep it out of harm's way, and moved on to other projects.

Til this weekend.

I don't know what got my back onto this kit - perhaps guilt at having it sitting around so long. I'm also at the point where I could start adding dirt and scenery at Campbell, so having the complete station ready to drop into the scene would encourage me to start putting in terrain and dirt. Or maybe I just needed a way to fill a few hours. In any case, while waiting for my wife's plane to arrive, I finished the glazing, took a deep breath, and started gluing the roof on. It came out ok - though there's some not-quite-level lines that I'm not happy with, but I'll live with. The progress on the roof kept me fired up, and I spent part of Sunday gluing on the simulated shingles, then painting the roof green as it would have been in real life.

The picture shows the station as it is tonight. I still need to put fascia along the edge of the roof, clean up the painting, and start adding details, but this weekend's work made a huge difference; even if it was only a few hours of work, it still got me excited about finishing the model once and for all. I'm now poring over the old pictures to capture little details--a ladder hung on an end wall, a shaded lamp above a doorway, and chimneys on the roof.

We'll see if this weekend's progress gets me excited to finish the station completely. Although some of my projects get put away because I got frustrated or stuck, others just get forgotten about; I don't remember what's half-built, or what particular snag caused me to stop. For this kit, I made a point tonight of writing my "to-do" list of the work still to be done. I've also kept big lists of ongoing projects so that I can quickly figure out something to do when I've got time. My current lists are a bit out of date, so maybe it's time to make a new "what to do when I'm bored" list.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Painting Backdrops

One of the tricks to a great model scene is having a decent backdrop so the model world doesn't end just behind the model. I've tried two approaches for backdrops - painting them by hand and using photographs, and I've been happy with both approaches.

My backdrops are 1/8" styrene from a local plastics supplier (Tap Plastics). I get the sheet cut into 1 foot by eight foot strips, then glue it onto supports at the back of each scene. After priming and some sky blue paint (fading as it drops to the horizon), I've got an acceptable scene.

Here's a photo from behind an orchard near Campbell. In this case, I only used a dark blue-grey paint to look like the silhouette of the hills we'll often see in the Santa Clara Valley on summer afternoons. Checking the color wasn't hard; I just went outside and squinted at the far hills. Painting this just requires some quick brushwork to make a mountainous shape on the backdrop.

In the Santa Cruz Mountains, I needed more realistic scenery for the nearby mountains. These pictures from Glenwood and Wrights show a couple other attempts (in some cases not covered enough by trees at the back of the scene.) I learned these techniques from an old Narrow Gauge and Short Line Gazette article from the 1980's, though the techniques are similar to other model railroad articles. I painted the furthest hills in a dark bluish, then painted each nearer line of hills in a brighter and greener set of colors. As I got closer, I detailed in trees with a flat brush held vertically and touching only on the tips. It's not the greatest landscape painting, but it'll do for me.
The big message here, of course, is that the backdrop doesn't have to be very good. These photos are close-ups and aren't great when examined in detail, but when the whole scene's looked at, they're not the center of attention. They just register as sky colors and hill colors, and that's enough to convince the viewer that the scene is real. Backdrops are also really forgiving; if the painting doesn't work out (as the Glenwood scene didn't at first), just paint a new set of hills on top of your not-quite-good version.

These final two photos show the scene near Wrights in Los Gatos Canyon. I'd tried painting California dry hills, but hadn't been happy with the results. I finally gave up and decided to try some photo images. Rather than go out to the hills and photograph decent scenes, I turned to Google Earth.

Google Earth's normally viewed top-down, but it also has contour maps so it knows the height of features. If you tilt a Google Earth scene (check the on-line Help to see how) , you can look at an edge-on view of nearby hills. In my case, I found spots along the west side of Los Gatos Canyon, and looked towards the east side of the canyon with the view tilted almost horizontally. I then did screen captures of the scenes, printed them on photographic paper in my cheap ink-jet printer. I then sprayed the images with Testor's Dullcoat to cut glare on the image, cut out the sky portion of each image, and glued them to the backdrop. The first picture shows one of the more realistic parts of the backdrop. The second (over the water tank) worked less well, but is still quite presentable. The only problem with the images is that they're captured from aerial photos, so trees and hills often look a bit stretched and flattened when I tilted the image to look at it sideways.

That last picture also gives away the source of the photo. If you look at the larger version of the image, you'll see a small, bright green line at the top of the ridge. That's Google Earth's way of displaying roads, and I'd forgotten to turn off road displays when capturing the image.

I Survived BayRails!

Last weekend, I opened my layout for BayRails, a model railroad operating session gathering in the Bay Area. BayRails happens every two years. Eighty to a hundred people from around the country come to San Francisco and spend three days running trains on model railroads in the area. Some are quite famous layouts published in the model railroad press, some are huge and run prototypically long trains. Others (like my layout) are much more modest, but hopefully still fun for operations. I hosted two days of operations, and had folks from Arizona and St. Louis switching boxcars for half a day. The photos give a glimpse of what an operating session is like.

Getting the layout ready for operations is usually tiring, but prepping for two back-to-back sessions (on Thursday and Saturday) turned out to be quite a challenge. Model railroad operations is a bit of a game, with rules, pieces, and other players, but most games don't require the host to clean and repair pieces in between sessions. I spent most of Friday night cleaning the track, repairing balky locomotives, fixing minor electrical problems, and resetting all the boxcars to their correct locations.
One of my surprises at operating sessions is that no one plays the game the same way. I'm familiar with my layout, so when I do switch boxcars, I've got my habits. I've got favorite ways of getting the job done, I know how many cars can fit on a specific siding, and I know what order to do the work to make my life as easy as possible.

When I have others over, that all goes out the window. They're new to the layout, and are having to pick it all up as they go along. Each set of visitors is different. One crew early in the layout took what I thought to be a complex switching problem and finished it off in moments. Another crew noticed a useless bit of track in the Del Monte Cannery trackage that I'd copied straight from an old Sanborn fire insurance map, and realized it was a great place to hide the caboose when switching so they didn't block the main line. I suspect their use of the track might have actually been a use for the track on the prototype!
This weekend was no different; I saw crews switching nearby industries "backwards" from my usual way but with fine results, using hand signs to communicate when switching, and thinking hard about the difference between how they'd switched on other layouts and how they thought the real railroads would have worked.
Overall, it was a great weekend for me; it was great to get feedback (both good and bad on the layout), and I enjoyed seeing the visiting crews behaving like the real crews and getting real work done. I've got work to do before the next operating session. A couple of my locomotives could use some maintenance work after several hours of constant work. Several minor track problems became much more obvious when visitors are watching, and one switch got spiked shut on Saturday morning when I realized it was misbehaving enough to frustrate operations. But I'll be looking forward to operating again soon!
Thanks to all my visiting operators, and I hope you had a great time!

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Choosing an Era

I'm often asked why I model the 1930's. After all, I'm only 40, I'm in high-tech, and I'm a bit lazy about reliability issues. Why wouldn't I be modeling the 1970's, or modern day? I could run nice, reliable diesel locomotives instead of balky steam locomotives. I could spend hours computerizing the layout so I had automatic signals and dispatcher control instead of avoiding the computers and electronics problems I normally like.

It's a complex question to answer.

First, modern-day railroading just wasn't that interesting for me. One obvious reason is that modern trains are big. The locomotives are big, the freight cars are big, and the industries that have rail service are big. Fitting those kinds of scenes into the space I have - either a shelf layout or a single garage layout - just isn't easy. Older trains are smaller, so I can model more.

Even if I had the space for long trains and big engines, I'm not a railfan. Spending a day going out to the tracks and watching trains run by isn't that interesting. Even worse, I grew up on the San Francisco peninsula in the 1970's. I grew up watching dirty, unmaintained Southern Pacific diesels going by, and watching all the industries disappear. The steel mills and warehouses in South San Francisco either got torn down or stopped getting rail service. The canneries and food processing plants of the South Bay closed. San Francisco's Bayshore yard turned into a ghost town as all the warehouses in San Francisco turned into office space, dance clubs, and outlet stores. There's just no romance for me in that era, so trying to model the SP in the 1970's just doesn't sound fun.

My strongest reason, though, is to learn more about and recreate my grandparent's world. I've seen photos from the 1920's and 1930's, and I like the reminders of California's agricultural past, and of a time when railroads were the new and modern thing. I can see the pictures of my grandmother and her brothers and sisters in Santa Cruz for the day; they've just driven down from Hayward, they're dressed up, and they look like they're having a wonderful time. What was the drive on Highway 17 like for them? What sightseeing did they do?

My mom's family was from Hayward. My great-grandfather came over from the Azore Islands in the 1870's, earned money as a shepherd for the Miller and Lux, and bought ten acres above Hayward in the 1890s which he planted in apricots. He lost two wives, then met my great-grandmother and raised four children with her. The family dried the apricots on the property; every year for the harvest, my great-grandmother would prepare food for the family and the workers they hired to pick, cut, and dry the apricot. This photo of my great-grandfather shows him proudly looking over a drying tray of apricots sometime in the 1930's. Those apricots would get sold to one of the dried fruit packers down at the railroad tracks; the packing houses in Hayward probably looked a lot like the ones I model in San Jose and Campbell. My grandmother even worked as a bookkeeper for one of the packers for a while. My great-grandparents' fruit ranch probably looked like every farm in the Santa Clara Valley. When I'm researching and building my models, I'm also learning more about the world my family came from.


I also see the pictures of what the Bay Area was like. In this case, my grandmother took a photo of one of her friends sitting on top of a "gravity car" on the Mount Tamalpais Railway. My father took me and my sister hiking on Mt. Tam pretty often when we were growing up; I hadn't realized then that my grandparents had gone hiking on the mountain too, or that they'd stopped and taken photos at places like the Double Bowknot where I'd walked by 50 years later. My grandmother would have ridden the Northwestern Pacific to visit relatives in Sonoma County, or taken commute trains on the Peninsula when they lived in Redwood City. A couple decades later, my dad remembers working in the Hunts and Del Monte canneries in the summer, and knows that he got paid well for unloading cans from boxcars and checking the fruit cutting machines.

It's all memories. It's learning about family and the world they lived in. It's learning about how the Bay Area's changed from agricultural to high-tech, and from empty spaces to wall-to-wall suburbia. It's knowing what kind of orchards occupied the space where our house is, and knowing the importance of Sunnyvale's historic apricot orchard. It's about understanding the San Francisco Bay Area during one of the other booms the area's gone through, from the wheat fields to orchards to industry to electronics to the Internet.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

How much difference could a few years make?

As I've been building my layout, I've also been looking at historical documents from the 1930's to figure out what to build. What stations were busy during the 1930's? Where were signals installed along the line? How many passenger trains ran through Los Gatos? I've looked at old employee timetables for some of the facts, picked details out of books for others, and made wild guesses for other details. I'm not being too picky about sources; when I found a 1939 timetable excerpt hanging on the wall of the Santa Clara depot, I used its schedule to plan what trains I'd run during operating sessions.

A 1939 timetable? That's only seven years later than the 1932-or-so era for my model railroad. How inaccurate could it be?



Well, I got a chance to find out. Bruce Morden visited my layout a few weeks ago, and asked the simple question: "Is the Vasona Branch really what that piece of track was called?" I told him I didn't know, and I'd been hoping to see a 1932 timetable so I could learn for sure. A couple weeks later, Bruce sent me copies of pages from a 1928 and 1932 Southern Pacific Coast Division employee timetable. I've been poring over them ever since in hopes of learning something about the small bit of the world I model - the branch line starting in San Jose, continuing through Campbell, Los Gatos, Wrights, and Glenwood.

I've found that even in the short time between 1928 and 1939, a bunch of little details changed on the layout. The way the track was controlled changed, signals were added, branches and spurs removed, and trains added and removed.

First, start with the question of the name of the layout. I chose the modern name for the branch of track - the "Vasona branch". The line's last stop - Vasona Junction - gave the branch its most recent name. But in 1932, it was the "College Park - Santa Cruz branch" because the line broke off the main line at the College Park station (near Bellarmine High School in San Jose's Rose Garden neighborhood). The original main line turned east there, crossed over the top of downtown San Jose, then headed to Los Angeles by heading south on 4th Street. The Santa Cruz branch instead headed south past the modern-day Diridon Station, then turned southwest towards Los Gatos and Santa Cruz. In 1939, the main line followed the old branch from College Park to San Jose's Diridon station, and the former "West San Jose" station became the "San Jose" station. The 1939 timetable shows the branch now being called the "San Jose - Santa Cruz" branch.

Second, there's yard limits. Railroads are very strict about when a train is considered to have "authority" to run on a stretch of track. Generally, a train running on a main line must have approval from the central dispatcher to run on that track, and must be able to get out of the way of any trains with higher priority. In some places on the railroad, either the amount of switching to be done is too great, or permission from a central authority too troublesome. For example, in a railroad yard, the crew would go nuts if they had to send a telegraph message each time they blocked the main track. For this reason, railroads declare some tracks to be in "yard limits." Permission to run on these tracks only requires permission from a local yard master, and all trains (except passenger trains) following those tracks must assume that another train might be on the main track, and go appropriately slowly. (All trains must still get out of the way of "first class" passenger trains, and passenger trains can travel at a higher speed speed on main tracks in yard limits.)

Parts of the San Jose - Santa Cruz branch were considered in yard limits, and were owned by the yardmaster in San Jose. This may have been because the tracks were infrequently used, or because the switching was heavy. Strangely, the range of yard limits varied over time. In 1928, it only stretched from San Jose past the canneries to the Western Pacific crossing a mile down the tracks. In 1932, yard limits stretched from San Jose all the way to Los Gatos. In 1939, yard limits was pulled back to only go from San Jose to Campbell.

The choice of yard limits matters because it affects game play on the layout. With yard limits, trains can run without explicit warnings, and can be told to just "stay out of each other's way." If the trains had to rely on a dispatcher, freight train crews would need to ask permission each time they wanted to leave a town, and couldn't just "avoid" other trains they encountered. I've typically been running everything from San Jose to Vasona Junction as "yard limits", and require trains only ask for permission if they go further on. Now that I know how much yard limits vary, I'll need to think whether the Vasona Junction approach still seems reasonable, and whether extending or shrinking yard limits might be fun.

Third, there's the question of signals. Signals add animation to the model railroad and give me a chance to play a bit more with electronics than I might otherwise do. I'd learned from pictures that the whole railroad line from Los Gatos to Santa Cruz had signals, so I added signals on the upper deck a few years ago. What about on the lower deck? Did signals ever go beyond Vasona Junction?

According to the timetables, signals only existed from Vasona Junction to Santa Cruz in 1928. There were no signals along the Los Altos branch between Mayfield (California Street in Palo Alto) and Vasona Junction. Some time between 1928 and 1932, signals got added to the West San Jose to Vasona Junction branch. This work would have occurred as the Southern Pacific was rebuilding the San Jose main line to run around the west end of San Jose. I'm surprised that the signals were installed in Campbell but not on the Los Altos branch; the Los Altos branch got more of the fast trains and was the connection to San Francisco, while the San Jose to Los Gatos branch was a slower track with lots of industries and fewer passenger trains.

So do I add signals all the way to San Jose? I'm leaning against it. Signals take a lot of work to install and build; they're fragile, and there's usually so many freights working on the lower level that the signals would constantly be red. I'm willing to reconsider this at some point, but for now I think I'm going to keep the signals off the San Jose - Los Gatos line.

There were a few other interesting facts I grabbed from the timetable. In the 1928 timetable, the Campbell station entry has the notation "TO-R" next to the name. This indicates Campbell was a train order station, and a train register book existed. A train order station has an operator who can relay messages between the dispatcher and passing trains. Trains on the timetable usually don't need train orders; the timetable gives those trains the authority to run along a particular piece of track. Train order stations are much more important for extra trains not on the timetable. Extra trains need to get telegraphed orders from the dispatcher explaining where they can run, what trains have priority over them, and where meets will occur. The fact that the station agent or telegrapher in Campbell had to prepare train orders suggests there may have been a lot of trains going by. There wasn't as much traffic elsewhere; on the Los Altos branch, the only train order stations were at Mayfield and at Los Gatos. Once a train got onto that line, orders couldn't be changed til it got to the other end. Because yard limits only stretched from West San Jose to the WP junction, trains likely would have needed orders at Campbell.

Not all freight trains are extras; the 1928 timetable also showed one freight train, #202, on the schedule. It ran on Tuesdays only from San Jose to Campbell and then disappeared from the timetable. Because of its disappearance, I'd guess it turned aside at Campbell and went on the Almaden branch towards New Almaden, then probably returned to San Jose by following the other part of the Almaden branch towards the main line at Lick (now near Capitol Expressway and Monterey Highway).

The train register book is our reminder that the Almaden branch existed then. A train register book is kept at a junction between two lines, or at a place where trains can start or end. When a train passes, it writes down the time it passed. If another train is supposed to wait until a specific train has passed, the crew can check the book to see if the track is clear. In our case, if our train coming from Los Gatos to San Jose is supposed to wait until train #202 passes Campbell and goes on the Almaden branch, our train can check the book and see if #202 has signed in. If not, our train waits til #202 passes. If #202 did sign the book, we can continue to San Jose knowing the track is clear.

The Almaden branch disappeared in the early 1930's. The 1932 timetable shows that Campbell is no longer a train order station, and no longer has a train register book.

A final tidbit from the timetable is that the 1928 timetable shows fewer passenger trains to Santa Cruz than the 1932 timetable. That's really surprising; by 1932, the depression had reached bottom, and the SP was closing stations and cutting trains. I'm curious why there were so few passenger trains in 1928; did the SP cut back because of competition from the new highway over the mountains, then increase trains as fewer people were able to drive? It's just another mystery to explore.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Now, that's one way to find some projects...



Now that I've started this blog, I want to make frequent updates both so it'll be interesting for readers and so it'll keep me working on models. I rushed out tonight to take pictures of one of an almost-complete building (PG&E's generator plant in San Jose), brought the photos inside... and just got annoyed. Lots of details in the photos were wrong - a telephone pole was crooked, the SP tool shed looked like it was sitting in front of the weeds (instead of actually in use, etc.

I gave up on those photos and decided the scene deserved a bit more work. Actually, it gives me some nice inspiration; I've got a building I want to photograph and a scene that doesn't look right. Why don't I just promise myself I'll spend a couple evenings getting the scene better and ready to photograph?

Stay tuned to see if I actually fix up the scene...