Model Railroad Blog

Going Back In Time

A pair of CF7s toil away on The Palmetto Spur, a layout designed for acquiring the most crucial asset we need to embark on a model railroad layout: basic skills.

Going back in time and getting a redo on some of our past life decisions, the thought crosses all of our minds. Unfortunately, the harsh reality is you can’t. You have to live with the consequences of those decisions, hence the topic of today’s post.

We’d all like to think that we are unique in our life circumstances. Surprisingly, less so than we think. We have a lot more company, more folks in the same boat than we realize.

There’s a pattern I see over and over, among modeling enthusiasts. It’s a series of subtle decisions made over decades. They are inconsequential in the short term. That makes them all the more dangerous because, added up over time, they are consequential in the long term. There is no recovery. There’s no recovery because you simply can’t go back in time and get that redo. It’s the decision not to do anything. You can’t recover those lost decades.

Here’s what happens. You have a smart individual, professionally successful, professionally driven, and extremely knowledgeable about all aspects of railroading. Career and life being what they are, this individual puts off building anything until “some day”, usually retirement.

Someday does arrive. Time is now available, as are ample financial resources, and a nice home. As it turns out, these guys were sincere all along. They are now ready to start that dream layout. They begin the planning process. They have everything they need….finally….right? Nope.

They don’t have the skills to build it, not even the most rudimentary ones. Of more importance, and more subtle, they don’t know what they don’t know. They don’t have a gut understanding of how much work is involved in building X square feet of layout. It’s often much, much than they realize. They don’t have a gut understanding of how many square feet it takes to make them happy (often much less than they think). Because of this benign ignorance, they often assume they need a multi-deck monstrosity to spin off the level of satisfaction they’ve been dreaming about for decades. Without the requisite skills, however, this never ends well.

Then it hits them, and hits them hard, the “Holy shit, I’m screwed” epiphany. True, you can start the skills-building process at retirement, but you’ve lost decades, and you’re at the bottom of the mountain.

Sadly, this mess could’ve been avoided simply by seeing into the future and planning for it. Sure, many people are truly swamped with life. I get it. However, every person has time to build at least a simple one turnout plank, throw it on the wall, and use it for one reason, and one reason only, to build the basic skills. To gain a gut understanding of the relationship between how much layout spins off how much enjoyment, how much work is involved in building and maintaining an X size layout. (Still short on time? Reduce screen time by 30 minutes a week, and there you go).

Many years ago, I wrote an article on this very subject for MR, All You Need to Know in Four Square Feet. I also wrote a book on the subject that could serve as a road map. I caution you against falling into the avoidance behavior trap of spending much time on design specifics. At this junction, the design format doesn’t matter other than keeping it very simple. The key point is to get something simple up on the wall and start thrashing around. Will it look like a crude soap carving? Probably. First efforts generally do. There will be mistakes, likely many. It’s out of those mistakes and slogging in the mud that the foundation of skills you’ll need down the road will be forged.

That day you’re looking forward to will arrive, the day you can FINALLY have that dream layout, of this I’m sure. Prepare for it now so you can make the most of it.

Arrow Reload Systems – An Ideal Subject for A Switching Layout

A telephoto shot facing southward (towards Fruitland Avenue) into the Arrow Reload complex in Vernon, CA. There are at least four customers in this shot, the hoppers on the left, the coil car, two gondolas, and a different hopper customer barely visible on the right behind the switchstand. There’s lots of action and car variety in a small amount of space making for an ideal modeling subject.

In my book, “8 Track Plans for Modern Era Switching Layouts,” I devoted an entire chapter to BNSF’s Harbor Subdivision. Within that chapter, I delve extensively into the team track operation a few blocks east of the yard and drew up a track plan for it as a stand-alone layout.

On my recent trip to LA, I was finally able to see it in person and was pleasantly surprised by how active it still is. Fellow LA modeler Ken Dobiecki did some research and sent me a note that the operation is now run by Arrow Reload Systems. Matthew Velazquez of LA Rail Productions produced an extensive rail fan video of the yard switcher working the Arrow yard (start of video to the 4:25 mark)

A Bing Birdseye view of the yard. On this day several flats of steel are spotted under the gantry crane.

Another Birdseye view taken on a different day. In this view, four boxcars are spotted at the ramp.

The Arrow team track yard would be an ideal first layout for somebody new to the hobby.

The LA Trip

A gift from the heavens. Cloudy all day, the sun finally broke out during the golden hour just as this southbound transfer run from Hobart Yard appeared on the horizon. I’m standing on the south sidewalk of Pacific Blvd., facing north. Malabar Yard is directly behind me. The tank cars are from Exxon/Mobil about a half mile to the north.

There’s nothing that makes me feel more alive than visiting an industrial rail site in person. The experience isn’t even close to the same as what you get from photos and videos. The sites, the sounds, the energy, the people you meet. Everything seems so much bigger and richer. Then there’s the thrill of the photographic hunt.

At the top of the pyramid of experiences is LA. I’ve always loved the city, its energy, prosperity, and work ethic, the industrial urgency, the laidback friendliness of the people, the optimism. As luck would have it, there was a very heavy, low cloud layer most of the trip. During the golden hour on the first day, the clouds parted, and I was able to get some art shots. The rest of the photos will be extremely useful from a documentation standpoint, but will need some significant time with the photo editor to clean up. Malabar was hopping. Vernon was buzzing with citizens on the sidewalks, food stands on the corners, workers doing their thing, noise from the industries, and trucks flying everywhere. Follow along as I walk you through my two-day odyssey.

Now we’re about a mile to the north at UP’s “J Yard”. Facing East/Northeast with the iconic Art Deco Sears building on the horizon. My guess is the tank cars are for Sweetener Products a short distance down the Alameda Industrial Lead.

The Malabar yard job/local blocks cars with a series of north/south shoves. We’re looking south towards the yard. The cars are for Exxon/Mobil. Two major streets were blocked for a good ten minutes. That was great for me but the motorists stuck behind the crossing gates were less impressed.

The weather was gloomy so the number of beauty shots was very limited. Nonetheless, I did a get a lot of documentation photos a few of which I’ll post here. We’re starting at the north at the LA River crossing to Harbor Junction, and then doing a hard turn to the south towards Malabar.

Since I only had a limited amount of time, I planned my list of “targets” carefully and limited the scope to a fairly small area. It’s only about 1.3 miles from Harbor Junction to the end of Malabar, about a thirty-minute walk. Parking was plentiful, so I used both car and foot to move around. It can be hard to get a sense of distance from looking at a map, but a lot of these photo locations are only a ten-minute walk from each other. It’s a safe walk too, students with backpacks, workers, moms with strollers, food vendors on the sidewalks.

Facing north up the LA River. The Harbor Subdivision branch to Malabar is on the smaller bridge in the foreground.

The first rail-served industry is Dar Pro Solutions. We’re facing eastward with the river just beyond the blue tanks. Note the “Harbor Junction” sign in front of the blue tanks.

Reliance Steel is an imposing landmark structure seen in a lot of railfan photos and videos. It is no longer rail-served.

Located mid-point down the branch is Exxon/Mobil, the largest customer.

Here’s the “money shot” scene of Malabar seen in so many photos. Pabco Paper is on the right, Kennedy Name Plate is on the left. Fairly recent aerial photos show a boxcar spotted on the Pabco spur. I’m not sure if it’s still rail-served. If you look into the distance, you’ll see the locos tied up for the day. There’s a bus stop behind me, so in a lot of photos you’ll see pedestrians taking a shortcut through the yard to get to it.

Kennedy Name Plate flanks the east side of the entrance to Malabar Yard. It appears in numerous historic photos.

Looking east down 46th Street we get a block’s worth of street running. The rails turn right beyond the yield sign and run two blocks to the team yard.

The historic team yard seen in so many photos. It’s now run by a logistics firm called Arrow Re-loading. We’re looking south towards Fruitland. The yard is fairly full with hoppers, gondolas, and steel coil cars. I’ve seen flatcars of steel in there as well.

49th Street cuts across the middle of Malabar Yard. That must be fun for the crews! On the right is Centennial Steel, a visual landmark. It’s not rail-served though.

BNSF uses this shoving platform for it’s moves between Hobart and Malabar, a modeler’s dream!

I have another hundred or so photos but these give a sense for things. Because of the heavy cloud cover, editing them to make them presentable will take some time.

Lost Civilizations

A duo of Geep 15’s rolls through the Philadelphia suburbs on the proto-freelance Chester Valley Railroad. Now a Genesee and Wyoming shortline, the line was originally conceived by modeler Hardold Geisell in the 1930s.

Last fall, I was streaming one of these quasi-conspiracy series on Netflix. The premise of this particular show was that the start of advanced civilizations dates long, long before what we originally thought. As the theory went, these super old, highly evolved civilizations were wiped out by the ice age. Mankind’s developmental process then started over again after the big thaw. It’s a premise generally dismissed by scientists, but with an asterisk….. unlikely but not something that can be entirely ruled out. It’s an intriguing but also somewhat deflating idea. If we knew so much, so many years ago, why aren’t we further ahead? At the risk of being melodramatic, I’m going to take this lost civilization/starting over idea and segue into model railroad design.

Several months ago, one of my blog readers brought to my attention an absolutely outstanding design. There was a kicker, though, something I found oddly disheartening. This exceptional design, done by J. Harold Geissel, was published in the November 1939 issue of Model Railroader. Wow. We knew how to do things from a design standpoint right from the outset.

J. Harold Geissel’s Chester Valley R.R. design from 1939. Not only is it brilliant in its composition and minimalist execution, there is a level of artistry seldom seen. In all honesty, it looks better than anything I’ve ever produced.

If design theory was so evolved eighty-five years ago, how on earth did we backtrack into the swamp of horrendous, spaghetti bowl designs, and wallow in that muck for decades?

I went back into the MR archives from the 1930s and found additional great shelf layout designs. I’ll define a good design as one that is easily built, trains pass through a scene only one time, is plausible, and contains ample negative space. Designs aside, the thinking in general in these early articles was very advanced, probably equal to or beyond what we see today.

Just for fun, I took Harold’s design, converted it to HO scale, trimmed a few things out, made some minor adjustments, and updated it to the modern era. What you see here would fit in one side of a two-car garage. The concept is based on the idea of a short, Genessee & Wyoming branch line in the Philadelphia suburbs. It interchanges with one of the majors, runs for ten miles or so, and serves a half dozen or so industries.

Eighty-five years ago, we were shown how to design a model railroad. We should have paid attention, stayed the course, and built on that. It wasn’t until the 1970s, thirty-five years later, that we got back on track.

What the Hobby Greats Do Differently

Mastery of scene composition is probably the foremost skill Mike Confalone employs to put him on the list of all-time hobby greats.

Throughout any given year, there’s the recurring thread of what makes a model railroad great. Given the subjective nature of the topic, everybody’s answer will be different. Not discussed that often is what sets these layouts apart. What do the greats do differently?

Without question, modeling skill matters. They are….highly skilled…damn good modelers. That can be a little misleading, though. Basic modeling skills aren’t what sets their work apart. They approach things differently at the strategic level. The groundwork for their success begins before the first piece of track is laid. Conversely, hobbyists at large are behind the eight ball from the get-go because they take the opposite approach.

At the core of visual success, the foundation of everything, is composition. Awareness and mastery of this fundamental truth are what set these guys apart. Composition refers to the elements selected, their size, shape, relative position, and, of crucial importance, the space between them.

The hobby greats start with identifying a certain look, a certain feel to their work. They study prototypes intently to identify what it is about them that makes them what they are.

The hobby greats have a keen awareness of spatial relationships. They are relentless in creating ample space between scenes and between elements within a scene. If a desired element squeezes into that no fly zone of negative space, they give it the axe.

They start with a blank canvas and the goal of creating an overall look. It’s the overall sum that drives everything, not one specific kit or element. They don’t wander off the range and go, “Wow, that’s a cool Walthers structure, where can I squeeze that in?” They rely heavily on kitbashing to get the structures they want. They don’t succumb to the temptation of visual dopamine fixes, the proverbial blinking lights everywhere. Their comfort zone is that of the ordinary, not the extraordinary.

By contrast, the hobby at large tends to be very element-driven. Their starting point is a very large bucket of “must-have” elements that they feel compelled to jigsaw puzzle onto the layout. Before they’ve even started, they’ve dug themselves into a hole that is impossible to get out of, the visual death sentence of over compression, squeezing too much into a layout of individual scenes. Often, the elements chosen are only loosely related to any central theme. Using existing kit inventory is a driving factor. There is a general discomfort with kitbashing a structure. The focus of the layout is a carnival of blinking lights, each competing for attention, rather than the overall look.

Compositions like this are what put Tom Johnson into the rarified air of all-time hobby greats. Note the spacing between elements, the overall openness. Note the ordinary nature of the elements and the scene as a whole. Note the massive space given to an ordinary parking lot.

The Hobby Greats:

1. Study what makes a scene what it is. What are its defining, and generally quite ordinary, elements? They emphasize the ordinary.

2. Their focus and emphasis is on the overall look, not individual pieces.

3. They spread their scenes out

4. They create space between the elements in a scene.

5. They kitbash to get the look they need from their structures.

We all have our own goals as to what we want to get out of the hobby and how deeply immersed we want to be in it. I always caution folks to get away from external validation as a means of judging their work. Instead, look at what you have in your layout room. If you’re happy, grab a beer and stay happy. If you’d like to nudge the needle a bit further in the skills department a good starting point is to closely study the work of the greats. (Study means examining photos and reading, not scanning photos for a second at a time on social media.) Here are five folks I’d study intently: Tom Johnson, Mike Confalone, Seb SG, Tim Nicholson, John Wright (Federal Street Pennsy layout).