Cheshire Railway Modellers

Ken has a theory that the our village is full of secret railway modellers.  He’s spotted clues.  The Ratio box hiding in a bin bag.  A short length of flexible sleepering lying in mud.  A show programme secreted in the waste paper skip.  Other club members had also noted similar signs of model railways.  None of these are from children toys.

“The magazines don’t stay on the newsagent’s shelf for very long,” volunteered Peter. “Somebody must be buying them.  And it’s not just us.”

“They ought to make themselves known,” announced Paul.  We laughed.  He keeps his railway totally under wraps.  No club member has ever seen his layout or even a single item intended for it.  It’s so secret we’re not even sure that it exists.

“It’s almost as if they didn’t want folks to know about their hobby,” Jim suggested.

“Exactly,” Fred agreed.  “It’s always been like that.  I’ve got magazines from the early part of last century where authors only used pseudonyms.  They were afraid that if their identity were revealed, they would be ridiculed by their friends, ostracised by their neighbours and thought unsuitable for promotion by their employers.”

“It’s not like that now,” said Nigel.  “I don’t mind who knows I’m a modeller.  I’ll discuss railways with anybody.”  We all smiled.  Nigel talks to everybody about railways, especially if it is modelling the western Peak District in the spring of 1956.

“I think we should be proud of what we do,” Graham added.  “We’re maintaining a rich and honourable heritage, practising and developing a range of crafts.  Why, supplying its needs is a major cottage industry.”

“Perhaps we should keep watch at the newsagents,” Dan suggested.  “Stage a stake-out on the days they’re published.”  The rest of us laughed.  Can you imagine any of us looking unobtrusive while peering round the carousel of picture postcards?

“We should expose the closet railway modellers,” added Adrian, warming to the idea.  “Circulate lists and things.”

“What, ‘outing’ them, like homosexuals were during the seventies and eighties?” Felicity asked.

“In the long run, that’s meant that people now accept a range of sexual orientations as being unremarkable,” Jim observed.  “People should treat railway modelling as just another normal hobby.”

“If you can have festivals like Gay Pride why not festivals of Railway Modelling Pride?” Bill suggested.

“We do,” Nigel exclaimed.  “They’re called exhibitions.”

“Ah, but the press always take the line that we’re just big boys playing with children’s toys, rather than practising a serious artistic craft,” Ken commented.  “The way they portray us is so far from the truth and it gives the hobby a poor image.”

“Changing public attitudes is a slow process,” the chairman advised.  “The best we can do is to keep our ears open, talk sensibly to those that want to listen, invite along anybody that shows an interest, and make them welcome when they come to an exhibition or a club meeting.”  And who could disagree with that?

Graham was trying to enlarge the operating team for the club’s 4mm scale layout, but was receiving no support from some club members.

“I’m not going to operate that layout,” said Paul.  “You’ve made the control panel far too complicated.”

“It’s not complicated,” Graham retorted.  “It’s just that there are lots of switches.  If you want it simpler, then you’ll be limited to just one locomotive on the entire system at any one time. That’s going to be really boring to drive and doesn’t make best use of the track.  It’ll be rather like Peter’s railway.”

“I’ve gone for practical simplicity, “ Peter retorted defensively, “whereas you’ve made the control panel unnecessarily confusing.”

“From what I’ve heard, your layout is so simple that it’s just a single line to a single platform,” Jim chided.  “It’d turn-off the public if you ever exhibited it.”  This really upset Peter.

“If you think on-off and two-way centre-off switches are complicated, then how come you manage to drive your car?” Graham continued.  “It’s got switches, knobs and push-buttons all over the dashboard.  And then there are at least six functions on just one of the arms behind the steering wheel.”

“They’re all necessary,” Paul insisted.  “It’s what’s expected of a top-of-the-range model.”

“How many do you use frequently?” Bill enquired.

“Not many,” was Paul’s reply, “but they’re all needed at one time or another.”

“Then think of the club layout as a high specification model,” Jim suggested.  ”Some switches are used frequently, but they’re all needed at one time or another to provide prototypical operation and the flexibility to entertain the audience.”

“Your car and the layout both use twelve volts DC and many colours of wire,” Adrian joined in.  “The critical difference is that your car has only one engine, whereas on the layout several can be controlled at the same.”

 “I don’t think it’s that easy,” observed Felicity.  “It’s a matter of familiarity.  I hate changing to a new car because the switches are not in the same places.”

“But when you get a new car, you get to know where they are, don’t you?” Paul asked.

“Well, yes,” Felicity agreed, “over time, for most of them.”

“Exactly,” said Fred.  “Over time.  People who operate at exhibitions must make the time to learn the layout before hand.  It’s rather like learning to drive a car.  We all take at least twenty hours to acquire the basic skills and much longer to become truly competent.  Even changing from one vehicle to another takes time.  It annoys me when folk turn up to operate at shows and they aren’t familiar with the controls or the operating procedures because they haven’t bothered to practise them.”

“Would it be a good idea if we had regular training sessions for the exhibition teams and those who want to join them?” the chairman asked.  We all agreed ...  But it remains to be seen how many will turn up and take rehearsals seriously.

Last week, the 00-group were basking in their successful trip to the Mucklesworth exhibition.  They proudly displayed their trophy for ‘Best in Show’ and gleefully listed the well-known layouts that they had beaten.

“We’ve now got plans to extend the layout,” Adrian excitedly announced.

“Oh, dear,” commented Graham.  “That could spoil a good display that is rightly popular with the public.”

“It’ll make it more like a real railway,” Adrian retorted.  “Bring it closer to scale length.”

“But scale length isn’t always a good thing,” Graham continued.  “It depends what you do within that additional length.”  He explained that as layouts increase in size, so it takes longer for a train to leave the fiddle yard, traverse the scenic section and re-enter its fiddle track.  This can make for a boring performance for the viewing public, though the operators don't recognise this as they are involved full-time in driving the train for the whole circuit.

“There are ways round that,” Paul interjected.  “The following train can leave the fiddle yard once the previous one is in public view.  That gives a rapid succession of trains.”

“And no end of a head-ache for the operators endeavouring to maintain that intensity of traffic hour after hour,” Bill cautioned.

“There are better ways to keep thing moving in front of the public,” Fred counselled.  Someone suggested quadruple tracks and another a station with shunting.

“That’s two ways,” Fred replied.  “What about loops to hold slower trains while a faster ones overtakes them?  A slower train can set off as soon as the previous one is back in the fiddle yard.  Because the faster train is out of sight, it doesn’t seem odd that the slower one pulls away well before the one in front could be expected to have safely passed the next signal box.  And because it’s accelerating only slowly, there is plenty of time for the fiddle-yard operators to deal with both trains.”

“It’ll be best if the extension has features that generates additional traffic,” Graham advised, “rather than just increasing the length of plain track between the station and the scenic break.”

“Nothing of operational excitement ever happens between the distant signal and the outer home,” Jim agreed, forgetting that present day railways aren’t always semaphore signalled. “It’s just a length of track that trains have to cover.”

“It’s rather like a tv drama,” Graham observed.  “The key incidents follow each other fairly quickly, with the long periods between them either totally ignored or taken up with a different story-line. Isn’t this how we should build and operate our models?  A long layout requires several centres of operational interest if it is to satisfy the public.”

Before things got too heated, the chairman intervened.  He pointed out that any proposal would have to go before the committee and be approved at the AGM.  “Audience interest is an important consideration in any layout intended for public exhibition.  Let’s see what the 00-team come up with and then judge it on its merits.”  And everybody agreed with that.

A few weeks ago, we got round to talking about the opportunities for people to become actively involved when they visited a model railway exhibition.

“Adults don’t want to get involved” was Peter’s instant opinion.  “They are unsure of their own competence and afraid of making fools of themselves in public.”  The rest of us smiled.  Peter often tells us what we should do, but hasn’t yet got the courage to do it himself on his Granary-St-Mary layout.

 “Some layout presenters are very good at involving the public,” Bill observed.  “I once saw a guy with a simple shunting layout.  He explained how and why shunting was carried out and invited children and their parents to join in by working the point levers.  His stentorian tones carried and it wasn’t long before every exhibitor in the entire hall knew he was working the audience for all he was worth.”

“ ‘Alex pull on your lever, Chloe push, Mum push’, he would call out as he directed operations.  And periodically there were cheers and applause when families got all the wagons in the correct sidings. One wag suggested that with all this ‘Mum push’ stuff, it sounded a bit like a maternity ward.”

“Though some of the serious exhibitors didn’t like it,” Bill continued, “he was certainly getting whole families interested, involved and hence excited in railway operations.  As the purists tut-tutted, perhaps it was they who should have considered how effective they were at convincing any generation that this hobby is for them.”

“I’ve seen a layout that represents the terminus of a light railway,” Jane commented.  “There with a succession of mixed trains to reverse, drop off incoming wagons and pick up others. There was work for two visitors, one as driver and the other as signalman.  People were having a wonderful time, under the strict guidance of the presenter.  While shunting proceeded, he explained railway operations, such as why the vacuum-braked coach had to be next to the locomotive and the purpose of the guard’s van at the rear of the train.  Many in his audience left with a much improved understanding of real railways.”

“Some youngsters are better operators than adults,” was Fred’s contribution.  “I saw one layout where a lad of about nine or ten was directing operations.  The other operators, some many times his age, were obeying his instructions.  Their conversations showed that they were treating him as an equal, at least as far as running trains were concerned.  I thought it was a lovely situation.”

“But will he stay as a modeller?”  Paul asked, dismissively.

“Who knows,” Felicity replied, “and does it matter really?  The happy memory of time spent working as a successful team will remain with him for many years.  Whatever hobbies he has later in life, I bet he’ll grow up with a far more positive attitude towards co-operation and the older generations than the standard estate hoodie.”

“The best shows for me are the ones where I finish up helping to work a layout,” Ken observed.

“Isn’t that what shows are all about?” the chairman enquired.  “Engaging with the public.  If we want our great hobby to have a future, public involvement has to be designed-in, not an after-thought or just left to chance.  ”  And who could disagree with that?

There were mutterings the last week about the lack of recruits to railway modelling.  Several reasons were suggested.  But the general impression given by shows featured highly in the ensuing conversation.

“We’ve got to catch them young,” Bill advised.  “But some show organisers seem determined to frighten youngsters away.  They book layouts that are far too high for children to see what’s happening.  There are no steps or viewing platforms.  Then there are the ones where there’s nobody explaining what’s going on in terms the youngsters can understand.  And above all, they don’t have anything for them to do.”

“Quite true,” Felicity joined in.  “I once saw a layout billed as ‘Thomas for the Children.’  But it was heavily protected behind a security barrier and plastered with stern ‘DON’T TOUCH’ signs.  What a way to kill youngsters’ interest and enthusiasm!”

“But children are a nuisance,” Paul retorted.  “They can’t keep their hands to themselves.  Always putting their sticky fingers on the track, grabbing locos, breaking signals and grubbing up the scenic dressing.”

“Is it because the parents haven’t explained how to behave at an exhibition?” Jim asked. 

“I’m sure it’s because most just want to join in,” Felicity replied.  “Perhaps a Code of Visitor Conduct should be displayed, or a statement in the programme about exhibition etiquette.”

“We bought a family ticket at Fenleigh St Michael,” Jane reported, but the show wasn’t very family-friendly.  On their Thomas layout, our grandson recognised Henry.  He was the only loco on view and hadn’t moved for some time. ‘Choo-choo move,’ he called out.  But the operator didn’t respond.  He then said quite clearly ‘Choo-choo move.  Henry move, now.  Please.’  But again the operator declined to say or do anything.  An opportunity to interact with the audience was lost.”

“Some youngsters are quite knowledgeable,” Fred observed, “even really young ones.  I remember another Thomas layout.  A little chap, perhaps only three or four years old, asked the operator where Bertie the Bus was.”

“We don’t do road transport,” was the dismissive answer when the operator finally responded to the young enthusiast’s repeated question.  It’s not as if Bertie was irrelevant.  He was introduced by Rev Awdry quite early in his series of books and has a key role in several of the stories.

“The lad was visibly confused, if not upset, by the operator’s attitude,” Jane added.  “He could so easily have given a more positive answer.  If only the operator had asked whether they should have a Bertie the Bus on the layout and why he was important.”

“Perhaps there should be layouts clearly set up for kids to operate,” Bill suggested.  “If they are happy, then Mum will be pleased it was a family trip.  She might even countenance Dad spending some money on a family project.  But if the kids are bored, Mum will get agitated and want to be off.  Dad won’t have a chance really look at the displays, so he feels frustrated.  He won’t have time to buy anything, so the traders will have lost sales.  And the family might not attend that or any other show again.”

“We’d better see what we can do at our show,” the chairman observed.  And everybody agreed, though it remains to be seen whether this can be translated into opportunities for participation and changes in operator attitude.