In The Beginning Was The Plan

Just Kidding. I don't have a plan at all, and never have. What I have would more properly be called a "hope," or even a "wish." I've never been good at drawing up track plans. When I see the plans other people have drawn for their pikes, I weep for want of ever conjuring up anything nearly that imaginative and detailed.

That's my track plan, such as it is, in the foreground. It's a sketch drawn mostly freehand on a crude grid, and it's about as detailed as the crude sketch drawn with a pen on the foam board laid out across the bench work.

I've read all the John Armstrong articles in every issue of Model Railroader from 1950 to 1969. Fascinating stuff. And I can easily see how important a well-thought-out plan is to the success of an operating layout.

I learned to plan a layout by piecing together six-inch lengths of Lionel 3-rail track, though, and I don't seem to be able to get any more sophisticated than that, unless I'm allowed to count using flex-track and a soldering iron.

So this is how it starts: A crude sketch, first on paper, then on foam. Eventually I start playing with the track to see if I can match it up to the sketch. We'll see.

Stirred, Not Shaken

I used to shake all my paints to mix them up, but They say you're not supposed to do that because of the air bubbles. That doesn't bother me as much as the clotted crud that builds up on the lid and inside the neck of the bottle.

They say you're supposed to stir your paints. I tried that, but never did find a tool that would thoroughly mix the paint up with the solvent.

As I sat down to paint one night I thought, You know, I stirred it up just last night so it shouldn't have separated all that much, and I gave it a little swirl like this. Mixed it up just fine, so I thought I'd share this little tip with you.

Just Like Starting Over

Daunted. That's the way I always feel when I start painting a car body. I know that after a few nights of persistent painting it'll shape up nicely, but that first coat looks so mousy, no matter what color it is or the method I use to apply it. I'm grateful the camera can't clearly see how both the cream and the maroon look thin and runny, as though I wasn't even trying.

I sprayed the cream on (see previous post), but I probably won't use the airbrush again on this model, mostly because I don't have the time tonight to clean it up, and especially not to mask off the parts where I don't want any more cream color. Besides, I want to hold a real brush. There'll be plenty of opportunities later to try masking for a complete airbrush job.

The work is slow, particularly where I have to use the point of the brush to mark off the boundary between the maroon and the cream. There's a line of rivets there as big as soft balls, but if I methodically pace myself the results are gratifying as well as relaxing, believe it or not.

Dig the grampa glasses. Fifteen dollars at Walgreen's. It's the only way I can focus on the details so as not to slop paint where it's not wanted. I've got one of those hooded things that goes over my head with the thick lenses, but I never could adjust the band so they'd stay on when I turned my head, and they're so uncomfortable I've used them only a handful of times. Reading glasses are the bomb.

Let Us Spray

As much as I hate cleaning the furshluginner thing, there's nothing that matches an air brush for sheer speed. I put a first coat on these two cars in less than the time it took to write two quick sentences about it.

But the second coat went on with a brush, because it's better that way. The first coat can go on any old way, but I need more control after that, and a brush is the only way to paint that makes me feel as though I'm in control. The air brush blasts paint all over the place, as you can see, unless I mask off the rest of the car body. Athearn molded these cars with rivets that stick out about six scale inches, though, which makes masking a bit of a problem, and I'm still trying to work it out.

If it seems as though I'm spending a lot of time painting, it's because I'm trying to decide on a scale. This makes a little bit of sense, so please bear with me.

I conceived of the Lost Continent Railway as an N-scale layout. I even laid a respectable amount of track for it, but when I began to paint the rolling stock I realized that there was no way I was made to work in that scale. Maybe I could have at one time, but now I'm wearing the strongest reading glasses available at the drug store for the up-close work, and they're not helping all that much in N.

In HO I feel I can actually see what I'm doing. I can get my hands around the car body and hold it still. The brush isn't as big as a vestibule door. Painting the larger cars takes longer, but satisfaction is up.

I'd love to try working in O, but we don't have enough room in our basement to give up for a layout in 1:48 (not that I have a layout now). I dabbled briefly with the idea of building in S, but my research showed me that the available rolling stock, track and building kits are priced far outside my budget. HO is at my upper limit of affordability, habitability and visibility.

But what to do with all that N-scale equipment?

Transformations

The "decorated" dining car as delivered by Athearn, and a diner in the livery, sort of, of the Lost Continent Railway. The "decoration" on the upper car consists entirely of the words "New York Central," "Dining Car" and other gold lettering. There's not a spot of paint anywhere on it, not even the roof. Conversely, there isn't a single letter anywhere on the painted car. I haven't worked out how I'm going to do that, yet.

The decorated car has had three or four coats of cream, I forget exactly, and one coat of maroon over an old coat of lighter, glossy maroon. Oddly, both the old and new coat are both supposed to be "Milwaukee Road Maroon" but aren't even close, unless you squint, and turn off the lights. The cream color is what makes the livery good-looking, if you ask me, but I love to say "maroon" so much more than "cream."

A Day Behind The Paint Brush

Like all barbarians, I still paint my rolling stock with a brush. It's an especially ironic choice given that brushing on several coats takes hours, while the reason I don't like to use an airbrush (I have three different kinds) is all the time spent cleaning them out, not to mention that fiddling with masking tape frustrates the hell out of me.

The first coat is usually so discouragingly thin it makes me want to chuck all my paints and find a very simple hobby I might be good at, such as picking my nose or counting my fingers. It's particularly disheartening when I'm applying a light color on a dark background, just about all the time at my work bench because of all the cream in the livery of the LoCoRwy.

After applying just one more coat, applied just an hour or so after the first, the results are encouraging enough that I feel good about moving on.