In Defense of the Sacred Sheet

As Byron Henderson has learned, there's a surprisingly strong, perennial interest in the classic four-by-eight-foot HO starter layout. A respected professional layout planner, Byron eschews the old standby as a starting point for beginning model railroaders due to its limiting size. However, and with all due respect, since many HO starter sets contain track that easily fit the "sacred sheet," what's wrong with it?

Having worked for a number of years in various hobby shops, and thus having rubbed elbows with modelers of all stripes, I can relate that a beginner's focus rarely concerns whether or not an eighteen-inch radius curve can handle six-axle diesels or heavyweight coaches. More than likely, the first item on their to-do list is mastering the mechanics of assembling track and connecting a power pack, and as they approach building their first layout, it frequently involves a simple, traditional starting point.



With a standard sheet of plywood and a pair of sawhorses from the local Home Depot (ideal for those who don't know one end of a hammer from the other or are intimidated by power saws), they're immediately ready to get down to business. If they can't handle—or don't like—modeling after attempting a simple beginner's four-by, they probably won't be interested in graduating to the next step, which would likely then involve constructing "real" benchwork. And when they're ready to move on, I'm more than happy to send them Byron's way.

Aside from my previously-mentioned real-world experiences, I too have been closely monitoring and analyzing the web traffic at my White River and Northern website. And the second-most popular destination, after the model-of-a-model layout, is my collection of track plans. And among these, the winners hit-wise are the four-by-eight beginner layouts. I'm sure Byron curses my soul for appearing to reinforce the notion of the four-by-eight as the de facto starting point. The truth is, I neither support nor oppose it; I simply acknowledge its popularity and, for better or for worse, give customers what they want—a mantra that springs from a decades-long career in marketing.



Furthermore, while I wholeheartedly agree that model railroading is much more than four-bys and roundy-roundys, and endorse the drive to keep modelers learning and growing, I also happen to acknowledge that some people are happy without moving beyond their "Little Joe" tabletop set (as much as "real" modelers often cringe at the very sight of such a thing). And I acknowledge that, right or wrong, the four-by is a classic entry point that has brought more than a few noteworthy modelers into the hobby. For what it's worth, I built my first layout on a sacred sheet.

What am I listening to? I'm not embarrassed to admit that my tastes run the gamut from high-brow classical (Ralph Vaughan Williams) to esoteric alternative (Happy Rhodes) to commercially popular (Sting). But I had no idea that I'd ever enjoy trance, which comes in a riot of flavors from chill-out to dance (the 21st Century equivalent of disco). While some critics rate ATB as an also-ran in the trance/dance genre, I've compared him to the top-rated artists such as Paul van Dyk, and I find ATB more listenable. I suppose my ear may perhaps be on par with my modeling preferences? Frankly, I don't care—I'm perfectly happy roundy-rounding to a 4:4 beat.

Life Imitating Art Imitating Life

There are those who would call me a lunatic; others might be more polite and label me a purist. Either way, when it comes to lighting effects, my modeling preferences can border on the fanatical. I can't help it—I love to model lighting effects. It's a passion I've had since childhood; when I first discovered grain of wheat bulbs, it seemed as if I couldn't have enough of them.

It's only gotten worse as I've aged, and now I tend to take model lighting effects to an extreme. My philosophy is to light everything on a layout that's lit in real life (within the realm of practicality). Most of my N scale model vehicles, for instance, had a full compliment of lights, including headlights, brake lights, parking lights and turn signals. One car even had a dome light; another had flashing dashboard indicators.

But this only scratches the surface; admittedly my fanaticism runs deeper. Owing to the practicality of their size and longevity, LEDs are very often used for model illumination. The problem is, when they turn on and off, they don't behave like incandescent lamps. When simulating lights that that can be seen turning on and off, I strive to replicate what the eye (sometimes just barely) perceives in real life. Indeed, I've gone to great lengths to reproduce this behavior—the chaser lights in the video below, for instance, are illuminated by a set of microbulbs that rotate across the ends of fiber optics.



Specifically, when an incandescent lamp is energized and de-energized, there's a brief but perceptible period of time when the glow increases or decreases. By contrast, LEDs turn on and off instantaneously. Faithfully reproducing the subtle behavior of incandescent lamps can make the difference between a good lighting effect and a great one. Some people aren't even aware of why one looks better than another; they just sense it.

As an aside, I've since come to learn that I'm not alone in my obsession over imitating the behavior of incandescent lamps; Ngineering sells many lighting special effects circuits that allow the modeler to simulate old-fashioned light bulbs using LEDs. The chips mimic the lamp's characteristic ramp-up and ramp-down of brightness; in the video below, my Z scale crossing flashers demonstrate how their product can control the behavior of LEDs. I'm thrilled to have discovered this resource—even if Mr. Wallet isn't!



In addition to their characteristic behavior, incandescent lamps also have a signature glow, and I've learned that the best way to reproduce the color temperature of an incandescent lamp is with... an incandescent lamp. The warm atmosphere they create—an example of which is shown below—is hard to simulate any other way. (Notice in particular how the fan blades create a delightful shadow play.) Thus I've often gone to great lengths to use microbulbs wherever possible in my models. But sometimes it's simply not practical; thankfully, "warm white" LEDs are becoming more readily available, and their color temperature is improving.



At the same time, a curious ironic twist is emerging in the real world: LEDs are replacing incandescent lamps at an accelerating rate. Thus, aspects of real life are taking on the appearance of models with LEDs—life imitating art imitating life. A prime example: traffic signals. When I first started modeling them in N scale, I reluctantly used LEDs because there was simply no alternative. Subsequently, LEDs are becoming the norm in real stoplights, so now my models look right!

Today LEDs are showing up in vehicle brake lights and turn signals—particularly on trucks and buses, where their virtual indestructibility and longevity make them perfectly suited for rough treatment. The hottest craze, though, seems to be police and emergency vehicle flashers. Having grown up in an era of flashing and rotating incandescent lamps, it's a bit disconcerting to see the artificial-looking, even toy-like flickering of modern emergency vehicles in action. (In the video below is a police car "ski rack" I created by replacing the LEDs in a flasher circuit with microbulbs.) But, the benefit of this trend is that—assuming one is modeling the present—it's now much easier to simulate them accurately.



Beyond LEDs, there are other lighting trends to monitor. In the past, automobile headlights were universally the same warm incandescent color, easily simulated with fiber optics and ordinary bulbs. Nowadays, many cars are fitted with quartz-halogen lamps that blaze with an intense blue-white. By happy coincidence, so-called "cool white" LEDs have a very similar color temperature, so they're ideal for late-model vehicle headlights.

Another lighting effect that's undergoing change—which I've observed over the course of four decades in modeling—is streetlights. In my youth, many of them (particularly in quiet residential neighborhoods) were still incandescent, and to this day I prefer the light they cast. As I grew up, this soft, warm glow was gradually replaced by the brilliant blue-white of mercury-vapor lamps, which can be simulated to perfection with cool white LEDs. I've yet to figure out how to mimic the strange yellow-orange of the now more-popular sodium-vapor lamps; perhaps a custom mix of transparent paint on warm white LEDs would do. But now LEDs are infiltrating this domain as well, so that makes life easier.

The bottom line is that, as the incandescent lamp is becoming obsolete, the task of accurately modeling modern lighting effects is becoming easier. At the same time, technology is also offering us better ways of simulating earlier-era lighting. It's a great day for lighting-obsessed modelers like me!

N Scale, Episode IV: A New Hope

Sometimes I can almost convince myself that it's best for me to simply leave the scale. But, to be honest, I have a strong affection for it—admittedly born out of nostalgia, for the most part, yet no less tangible or powerful all the same. So at some point, be it an arbitrary point in time or as the consequence of some major life-change, I'll return to N scale modeling.

Having said that, I've now managed to "eBay away" about half of my N scale items, and oddly enough it feels really good. I'll be the first to admit that I got into a habit of over-accumulating, and had entirely too much stuff to ever put to practical use. However, now that I've shed a goodly amount of excess baggage, I'm not inclined to stop; indeed, I'd like to sell off as much as 90% of my N scale stuff.

You see, I have this idea of "returning" to the scale (as if I genuinely, formally "left it") as a craftsman. I'd like to build just about everything myself, including rolling stock and maybe even a locomotive or two. I'll probably hang on to a few stock locos just for the mechanisms, as I don't imagine myself ever being in a position of rolling my own.

Admittedly, I used to do much more craftsman-type modeling than I have in recent years. My first serious layout, the White River and Northern I, was nearly all scratchbuilt. Although much of that work is rather embarrassing to see today, it was the effort that satisfied, and I'd like to return to that mode of modeling.

Perhaps I'd start with some dioramas (as I had foolishly though I might do in HO scale, not that long ago) as a way of re-honing old skills. Perhaps, after crafting a few dioramas, my personal life might be sufficiently different that I'd be able to start a small layout. I have no illusions of having a classic basement empire again, but my diminutive Z scale layout has provided enough satisfaction that I can imagine a similarly-proportioned N scale layout doing the same.

I miss modeling in N scale. I'll see announcements of new releases at an increasing rate, and still feel that urge to splurge again; but then I'll glance at the still-full drawers of stuff on my shelves and realize I don't need it, for a number of reasons. So, while N scalers everywhere are enjoying a bounty of new, exciting and ever-improving merchandise, I look on and think, "that's nice," then return to my plans of becoming a modeler once again.