Poolside Rails

“Now, let’s have your name again, please?” the CEO leans forward across the boardroom table, almost spilling his brandy.

“Bill,” the applicant for the Chief Architect job says, crunching his cigar. “Bill Dimcheep.”

“Well,” the CEO slaps the table, “I like the sound of that!”

“My motto is ‘Why waste money on quality?’” Bill pulls the cigar out of his mouth and smiles broadly at the assembled boardmembers. He’s not a tall man, and quite round. His natty green pinstripe suite makes him look rather like a melon with a grape on top. A bald grape at that.

“Yes,” the gruff CFO looks closely at Bill’s business card, “I see your trade phrase here is ‘Buildings for Tomorrow, and Probably the Day After’. Hmph. I’m not so sure…”

“Poppycock!” The CEO stands up. “I like this fellow! You, sir, are HIRED! Gentlemen, may I present our new Chief Architect, Bill Dimcheep!”

My brother looked at my plan for the Kazakhstan Bridge in the last post and came up with a brilliant suggestion; instead of cutting squares of Styrofoam and stacking them up to build the bridge, why not just cut a whoppin’ big Styrofoam facade? It would take far less ‘foam, and only we initiated folks would know! I’ve attributed the idea to Bill Dimcheep.

“Plus, since it’s just a facade,” Bill pops the cigar out of his little mouth and waves it around for effect, “you only gotta build one side! Nobody’s going to look on the back side of a bridge!”

“B..b.but that bridge is nay safe!” stammers the Chief Engineer.

“Poppycock again, I say” the CEO blasts. “It’s perfectly safe…it just looks ugly, and this will fix that. This will put it into scale!”

“Oh,” pops the PR Guy, “I like that. New Construction Method Scales Down Bridge Problem! I’ll get on that right away.”

Well, I happen to have just enough of the Popcorn Flavor White Styrofoam to build the facade. I have almost exactly enough, although, because of the shape of the ‘foam, I’ll have two pieces and a big seam…I’ll fix it with a drain pipe or something.

Now, this white ‘foam is a little tricky to cut; don’t treat it like styrene or you’ll have a popcorn snowfall. Instead, jam that old knife right on through both sides and cut it like a man…make sure your blade is sharp and GO TO!

I used the end of an “L” bracket from some other project to emboss the shape of the stones into the face of the ‘foam. The stone blocks are two inches wide by one inch tall, and, my God, it took forever to get ‘em in there, but, once done, look pretty snappy!

Pictured is about 60% of the entire facade…the remaining piece of ‘foam has yet to be treated.

Puzzle Part Two: how to attach said facade to said existing bridge structure.

Oddly, Bill Dimcheep hasn’t said much about that!

“What was that?” asks the CEO. He draws ferociously on his cigar. “A success? On our railway?”

“Must be a type,” quips the CFO.

“No, I proofread it twice,” says the PR Guy. “I couldn’t believe it myself!”

As you’ll recall from our previous adventures, we’ve been testing the efficacy of a water-based coating on a Styrofoam structure. Now, before you tut-tut and cluck (if you’re a chicken you may feel free to tut-tut and cluck), let us consider the problem at hand:
A: No funds to hand
II: Paints on hand either a) attack the Styrofoam, or True)run right off it
3: This attempt at a silly numbering scheme isn’t working at all! But you        can see what I was trying for, can’t you?

I figure we’re learning this garden railway building thing together, am I right? I reckon we’re learning this blogging thing together too, aren’t we? I mean, really, who knows anything about blogs except folks like us that are flying by the seat of our pants? So we may as well learn about comedy writing together too, huh? Kind of follows, doesn’t it? I think our lesson for today is to jump ship when a premise doesn’t work.  Nobody likes to see a writer beat a dead horse. Or a live horse. It’s just not pretty. So, when your idea doesn’t stand up, knock it down.  If you have to work to explain your premise chances are good it’s too arcane for the average reader. Arcane. Look it up.

Anyway, it rained on my China Bridge, the 7th Wonder of the Styrofoam world. The wonder, of course, is how something so shoddily built can still be standing! The north side of the bridge is covered in a super thick paste of “heavy” acrylic paint…that’s the paint from the bottom of the bottle, with most of the water removed. I stippled it onto the ol’ Styro to see if it would stick…it Stuck! The south side is a combination of the stipple method and a plaster of Paris slurry I shlopped on there. The deck itself features only the P of P slurry.

And the winner…I’ll tell you in a minute. I was just thinking about that snide joke about the bridge being shoddily  built. I think I’ve fallen into a rather bad crevasse, and I could use your help in getting out of it.

I’m always testing ideas. Like the Bachmann Not-So-Big Hauler. It’s a huge pile of tests; can you put a car R/C into a battery powered locomotive? Can you shorten the wheelbase on a locomotive and have it work? Will a shortened-wheelbase heavy locomotive cure the China Section track issues? Can you make an American prototype look European? For the testbed, however, the only heavyweight battery driven loco I have IS the Bachmann Big Hauler. So I wiped out a perfectly good machine to test an idea.

Fortunately, the test is working.

With dang near zero funding, though, my test units become the real deal. Like this bridge. It’s just a test to see how Styrofoam works. Because it’s a test I rather slapped it together…who’s going to waste time finishing a test that may not work? But the test appears to be working, and now I’ve got a durable finish on it. Well, now it’s a shame to waste all the work I put into that finish.  So here I am putting a good finish on a slap-dash construction. You see the problem? It’s rather horse-and-cartish, if you know what I mean.

And now the answer to the better finish: the acrylic “mud” that was stippled on. That dried in a tough, leathery surface that, as I had hoped, snugged itself down around the Styrofoam. The plaster slurry, particularly on the roadbed, seems to want to jump off the plastic of the bridge.

So, what did we learn?
A: Stupid numbering schemes aren’t funny and are hard to do
B: Keep tests simple and small, and avoid the temptation to cut up good  things to test theories
C: A slurry of “heavy” acrylic paint will stick when applied in a thick stipple pattern

Now comes the debate about whether or not to keep the existing bridge structure or replace it with something…something more…well, neater, for one thing! I’ll let you know!

You see, the headline’s supposed to be a pun about missing teeth…you, know, bridgework? Get It? No? Skip it.

As you know, we’ve abandoned nasty, scary plywood with spider egg sacs for clean, white, efficient Styrofoam.  Last week it was an idea, and this week, zoom, zip, kabam, it’s a bridge!

There’s an interesting life lesson here. Garden railroading, as you know, is real railroading, which means the lessons one learns in garden railroading must apply to real life. Rather “I am therefore I think” logic, but it gets the job done.

I’ve been putting this bridge project off forever because I don’t know anything about working seriously with Styrofoam.  Like everyone else I’ve hacked at it and swept up those little white pills that cling so statically to just about everything…won’t even dump out of the dustpan because they’re so electrically charged they can’t let go. But I have this glowing memory of my stepson in the 4th grade…here in California our 4th graders learn about the California Missions, and are required to build a model of one. It’s  a big business for Michael’s…the craft store sells Styrofoam kits of each of the missions, complete with little fountains and stuff like that. We took my stepson’s kit from Michaels and coated it with this interesting yellowish slurry of “heavy” acrylic…acrylic paint from the bottom of the bottle that hasn’t been mixed. The result looked very much like stucco.  But that’s not the point of the story.

The point of the story is this; Walt Disney said the difference between someone who dreams and someone who lives their dreams is that the person who lives their dreams actually does it. Or maybe it was if you want to do something, do it. Now I don’t remember what it was. Dang. It was a good one. I fall for those jingo-istic things all the time. There’s no I in teamwork…I get it! But that’s not the point of the story either.

The point of the story is this; yesterday I didn’t have a bridge because all I had to work with was crappy old plywood and outdated tools. By shifting my paradigm and looking at the situation from a different standpoint, today I have a nifty bridge that is pretty near complete.  It took a shift in attitude, but I did it.  Like Captain Kirk and Kobiyashi Maru…if you didn’t see that Star Trek movie, you are forgiven.  The underlying theme of the film is that there is always a third alternative, even if you have to manufacture it. The Kobiyashi Maru was a Star Fleet Academy simulation of a rescue mission…the people taking the simulation did not know that they were destined to fail it because it actually designed to test their response to failing in a critical situation. Captain Kirk was the only guy to make it through the simulation and succeed. He knew he was supposed to pass it and that no one else did, so he hacked the computer system and rigged it so he would succeed. He created a different alternative.

So, when you look at those big wonderful things you’ve always wanted to do, ask yourself this: why aren’t you doing them?  I know you have very valid reasons as to why you’re not, just like the rest of us. But, how can you engineer your circumstances to make it possible? What can you hack, what can you quit, what can you start that will get you moving towards your dream? If you look at it not by saying what can’t be done, but by saying what can, you’ll be amazed at what follows. Trust me.

Proof? I have a nifty bridge down there in my China Section. Is it perfect? Heck no! I have a rough slurry of heavy acrylic paint on the north side, a plaster of Paris roadbed down the center, and a combination of plaster of Paris and slurry coating the south side. But look at it again; yesterday I didn’t have a bridge, today I do.

What changed? I finally got off my duff, faced my fears about the Styrofoam, and built the darned bridge! I expected the project to take months…in reality I was just afraid to commit to doing it.

That is really the point of this whole railway project: I used to be afraid of building my garden railway, because it seemed so big and I know so little.  But we’ve broken it down into little chunks, you and me,  and we’re working those chunks! They’re not so big! We can do it! You can do it!

The bridge is rough, but it looks pretty good. Once my various coatings are dry, I’ll nail it with good old Rust-Oleum and then paint it in earnest. I’m happy with the outline, and I like the arched deck  – that took a lot of quick thinking, but it worked out great.

It’s supposed to rain here in the next couple of days…I’m interested to see what effect the rain will have on my acrylic slurry.  I know it won’ t hurt the Styrofoam…at least I hope not!

I apologize for waxing philosophic, but I have a lot about which to be philosophical these days. Someday I’ll buy you a beer and we’ll sort it all out.
For now, though, let’s just put it this way: the difference between my bridge of yesterday and my bridge of today is that I went and did something about it.  Hint hint hint!

“What’s this?” says the CEO. “Styrofoam?  Isn’t that…well…cheap?”

“We prefer to say it’s economical,” replies the PR Guy.  “We also prefer to use the phrase ‘architectural foam’ in exchange for the banal Styrofoam.

“Banal,” says the Chief Engineer. “Don’t that mean bathroom?”

Well, there you go, sunk to bathroom humor within the first fifty words…it’s got to be a record!

As you may have heard, we abandoned nasty, splintery, naily old plywood in favor of light, smooth, easy to use Styrofoam. Yes, Styrofoam, the king of take-out food materials, has proven itself to be right at home on the garden railway.

Like most wonder materials, however, Styrofoam has some interesting quirks that take a little getting used to. For one thing, it’s messy. For another, it ain’t natural, folks, so be prepared to leave the green road. But once you get the hang of it you are in for an interesting treat.

I think I bought the wrong Styrofoam for my project.  I’ve read where other modelers have used architectural foam to great success. Theirs, however, is that dense cell blue stuff. I went to Lowe’s and bought a couple of sheets of what looked like architectural foam to me…4×8 sheets of white foam. When I got it home, though, I realized it’s just plain old Styrofoam , the kind your Chinese food comes home in, sandwiched between two thin plastic sheets. I was gravely disappointed, until I started working with it. Trust me, you’ll like it.

Cutting this laminate Styrofoam is easy, and no special tools are required.   If you’ve ever tried to cut plain old Styrofoam (like the kind that they packed around your new 8-Track player) with a knife, you know you’ll get Snowfall Over the Alleghenies; white pepper-corn dandruff that goes everywhere.   Expecting the worst, I used the quasi-sharp knife blade in my trusty Leatherman tool. Because of that plastic sheet laminate, this stuff cuts smoothly and retains a reasonably clean edge…you can cut freehand curves and everything!

But here’s the thing: you gotta cut this stuff like a man. Don’t treat it like styrene, you know, where you make a shallow cut and then go back over it. Doing that here breaks through the laminate and exposes the white dandruff. Go straight at this stuff. Drive your knife all the way through both sides and cut it with a gentle sawing motion. You’ll find that it cuts like a dream.

You can make it curve, like inside the arch of my railroad bridge, by cutting through the Styrofoam from one side all the way down to the laminate on the other side. I cut through the laminate on one side and about halfway through the foam itself. Making sure to leave the laminate on the other side intact, I broke the Styrofoam along my cut lines. The uncut laminate acts kind of like a hinge and allows you to build remarkably smooth curvy things.

The ancient tool, fire, can be used to anneal the edges of my Styrofoam pieces. A candle did a nice job of slightly melting the edges, closing gaps between the large cells of the foam and making ‘em stick together.

Now, sticking is an issue. My current favorite adhesive is Plumber’s Goop. It works great and holds super strong to the laminate sheet. But it is unbelievably aggressive towards the unprotected Styrofoam.  As the foam is naturally anhydrous…

“How can Styrofoam be ‘naturally’ anything?” mutters the Chief Engineer.

“Shush,” says the CEO as he lights a cigar. “Let’s just go with it.”

…and is extremely reactive to toluene-based adhesives, your choices are kind of limited. I cheated, and you might want to as well. I used dopey old Elmer’s Glue, knowing that it’ll work like a stick-um, and then screwed the pieces of my bridge together with gnarly 3 inch long deck screws. The thing is sturdy!

Oil-based paints, too, will attack the Styrofoam itself, although I’m rather certain they’ll stick just fine to the laminated sides. Water-based paints won’t stick, and oil-based paints will attack. What to do?  Well, again, I cheated. I used straight water-based acrylics, but I didn’t mix ‘em first. I used the colored sludge at the bottom of the bottles. And I didn’t brush it on: I stippled it on. The thickness that comes from stippling the super-heavy paint makes it work kind of like a glue. All I’m trying to do with my acrylics is get a coating over the bare Styrofoam so that I can use enamels on it…my thinking is that the acrylics will protect the Styrofoam while the enamels protect the acrylics. I’ll let you know what happens.

Here’s the beauty of the Styrofoam: it cuts easily, holds its shape, and forgives your sloppy workmanship. You don’t need a scary power tool to cut it, and mega-projects like this bridge go together in the blink of an eye!

Plan for China House

Well, exciting times have come to the Paris to Peking Railway, haven’t they? Just look at our new surroundings.
Housekeeping first: our new surroundings will result in better information for you. You’ll be seeing more and better links coming in the very near future.
We have new staff to help us accomplish this bold new look…my brother the graphic genius has officially signed onto the railway as the Marketing Director. He is most welcomed!

Important Update: I talked to young China’s mom this morning. China’s vision in the damaged eye has been making a steady recovery…first lights and darks, then shadows, then blurry colors…until today. China told her it was no better today than yesterday. Still, it’s a rapid recovery from a disastrous injury. I thank you, good reader, for your prayers, your concerns, and your well wishes. Her mom asked that I thank you, too.

Okay, back to work. In my panic to use up the remaining plywood before the arrival of the dreaded dumpster I designed this very cool looking China House.

A quick aside: when I tore the roof off of my patio I had nowhere to park the debris. Mind you, this was a big job…20×30 feet of tarpaper-covered plywood laid over 2×6 supports. The guy who put that thing up must have had the hots for the nails saleslady…that sucker had a nail blasted in there just about every half inch. We’d ordered a dumpster to haul the junk away, but my went crazy with the chainsaw and trimmed the trees in front, filling the dumpster twice. Twice!

Anyway, I stacked all the junk on a corner of the patio, with the best sheets of plywood stacked vertically. Sunday I noticed there were nails pointing into the walkway…very much a hazard. I pulled one out with a hammer, and that one darn nail was supporting something else, and that slipped, and the whole pile of junk cascaded around me like Fibber McGee’s closet! You would have to be in the Navy to hear worse language!

So I’ve decided not to use the plywood anymore…bad memories. Instead, I bought this cool insulating foam from Lowe’s. At least I thought I did.

According to an article I read in Garden Railroader Magazine you can use insulating foam for structures…you have to coat it with something like stucco, but it’s supposed to hold up for decades.

Well, the foam I bought at $10 for a 4×8 sheet of 5/8 looks suspiciously like the foam my laptop came in. What gives? It has a very interesting thin sheet of plastic, kind of like a Mylar, on the faces, but once you cut it you get that grainy, crumbly snowfall of little pieces. Grrrrrr

I used the really sharp knife blade in my-friend-the-Leatherman. Most often it worked when I cut quickly, but the stryofoam bunched up underneath the Mylar sheet and made a mess. Grrrrrrr

To do this right we’ll have to invest in a hot knife, unless I can find a plan to build one on the…you know me…cheap. I’m excited to use it as a building material…just have to get used to its idiosyncrasies.

I’ll do that after I clean up the wreckage on the patio!

It's still styrofoam!

Ten bucks a sheet! Cheap!