Track Plan Analysis, Part 2

Continuing our track plan analysis discussion, one person asked me why I didn't focus earlier on layout vision and concept. After all, it's the first thing I ask about in the questionnaire I suggest for new clients. And when designing a model railroad track plan, it is the most important issue in my mind, by far.

But in analyzing an existing plan, I don't usually get there until a little later in the process. Bear in mind that it took me a lot longer to write about the first three steps (see earlier post below) than it does to go through them on a particular plan. A lot of this is intuitive for me at this point and I tend to jump around between these steps, not follow them rigorously. OK, back to our discussion.

4) Reality-based rendering

Whether hand-drawn or computer generated, a number of overly-optimistic errors can creep in. Track-to-track spacing, S-curves, impossible grades, unworkably tight turnout angles, and curves not meeting tangents at right angles can all be problems. Tracks too close to the benchwork edge or a wall also crop up quite often. I'm not looking for one small error; this is often systemic with a particular plan.

One thing that I see quite often lately is errors in plans drawn with general CAD programs. Sometimes the turnout angles are correct, but they've been drawn impractically close to the next turnout. In real life, it requires space for the points, so turnouts can't be lined up like sardines in a can.

The commercial press often uses general drawing tools to render the beautiful track plans seen in the magazines. These track plans sometimes contain many of these errors, since they are developed from author inputs of varying precision.

5) Train capacity, flow, and balance

Here I am looking at the overall scheme. In anything but the smaller plans, I'm trying to understand if there are sufficient passing tracks in the best locations to allow the desired traffic to flow. In double-track designs, the location and orientation of crossovers is the key factor. I'm trying to get an idea of what the typical and maximum train length can be, how many trains in motion at once, etc.

Friend and fellow former Layout Design Journal editor Joe Fugate has adapted formulae originally published by Dr. Roy Dohn (Model Railroader, June 1968) for this purpose. [Joe published these in LDJ#21, Fall 1998 and on-line here.] I find this mechanistic approach does not work well for me personally, but it is a way some have found useful to look at capacities and flow.

I prefer to look more qualitatively, considering the typical train length (what has been called a "lineal" by some). Where does a train of typical length fit, where may two trains meet or pass, how far apart are these locations, etc. Again, it took a lot longer to write these paragraphs than I spend on this element when considering a typical plan. But it scuttles more than a few plans whose meet/pass points are too few, too short, or too clustered.

For plans with staging, I am also considering at this step whether the number and length of the staging tracks is in balance with the passing sidings or meet/pass areas between crossovers. A ton of staging may not do much good if only two trains can be operated across the layout at once because of a lack of meet/pass points. Staging tracks much shorter than the typical meet/pass points are also an out-of-balance signal.

6) Leads, runarounds, and switchbacks (Oh, my!)

Yep, another pet peeve. The persistent overuse of switchbacks by model railroad layout designers sometimes makes a plan look busy but operate poorly. A recent published design requires five back-and-forth moves to serve one industry.

More generally, I am looking to see if runaround and lead lengths are consistent with industry track length, rolling stock and motive power length, and if many switching moves require blocking a busy mainline or moving a lot of previously placed cars at unrelated industries.

A surprising number of newbie plans contain no runaround or an unfeasibly short runaround. Or they have an 18" switchback switch lead to serve a 48" long track hosting three large industries.

This is one of the areas where I must fault the commercial press. They publish designs with these failings over and over again … it provides a very bad example for aspiring designers.

===

Whew! A lot of words so far for steps I usually do pretty quickly. But perhaps it will suggest areas to consider when analyzing plans on your own. Next installment: yards, Cornerstones, and PICS.

Index to all five trackplan analysis posts
My wife and I had the good fortune to see Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris in concert last summer in support of their All the Roadrunning album. After a fabulous solo vocal by Emmylou, Knopfler remarked to the audience, "There is only one … Emmylou Harris". I absolutely agree. She has been a favorite artist of mine for decades and I believe she is doing some of her best work now. I listened again this week to Red Dirt Girl, an album that showcases an artist still at a high point in her musicianship, but with the wisdom and strength that comes only from the experience of life's lessons learned. Moving, haunting, atmospheric … there is only one … Emmylou Harris.

Track Plan Analysis, Part 1

"Don't ask me what I think of you, I might not give the answer that you want me to." One of rock's more clever lines, penned by Peter Green in the early days of Fleetwood Mac. This phrase has been echoing in my mind recently after a couple of experiences trying to help newbie layout designers on the Internet.

Regular readers will already know my concerns about the simultaneous proliferation of cheap or free CAD software and weak layout designs on the Internet (some CAD, some pencil and paper). Undaunted, I still occasionally find myself trying to help people with their ideas (yes, I'm a slow learner). So both on-line in the forums and off-line in private emails, I've tried to offer design advice.

The outcomes are almost always disappointing. I think it's often a case of mismatched expectations and experience.

There's one group of folks posting designs who are looking only for adoration of their "baby", not for advice on how to make it better. Good luck getting these savants to incorporate needed changes. Another group possesses very little background on model railroad layout design principles but insists on pressing forward with their own design regardless. These situations can be very frustrating, because there's no common language to use: if the newbie doesn’t know what constitutes a runaround or a switchback, it's darn-near impossible to help them understand what you're trying to point out.

A final group just isn't serious about what they post. After many helpful respondents offer advice, the original poster replies, "Oh well, I'm not moving out of Mom's condo for at least two years anyway, so I'm not really sure what space I'll have." Thanks a bunch, Junior!

I enjoy helping people, but the individual interactions often seem unsatisfying for both parties. So what to do? Perhaps an answer is to spend a little time and effort in a few blog posts describing what I look for in analyzing a plan, in print, on-line, wherever.

I've written indirectly about some of these ideas before, in earlier blog posts about the 8 Tricky Traps of layout design (here, here, and here). But this is looking at things from the other way around: how to analyze a model railroad track plan when considering it for long-term enjoyment, space efficiency, ease of building, maintenance, and operation, etc.

I'll list these ideas in a (very) roughly sequential order, but I don't follow this order rigidly in my analysis. I might skip around if there's a glaringly obvious shortfall or an evident highlight that merits priority focus. I'll present the first three ideas in this posting, with more to come in future blog entries.

1) See the space, not a table

Typically, the very first thing I like to understand when considering a model railroad layout design is the space it will occupy. What's the overall size of the room, how does one enter the space, where are the windows and other obstructions, etc.

Many plans are drawn and presented without any indication of the space which they occupy. And very often, these are drawn as one or a couple simple rectangles. For example: 6'X6'; two sheets of 4'X8' plywood in an "L", a 12'X12' monster with "Prairie Dog Village" pop-up holes, or the "sacred sheet" HO 4X8 (and regular readers know how I feel about those!).

I'm willing to bet that 9 out of 10 times, designing a model railroad layout solely to fit building material manufacturers' preferred sizes of sheet stock is a mistake. It's easy to see that a more-interesting layout will fit in the same sized room as will a 4X8, once one considers the aisles necessary for construction, maintenance, and operation.

It's certainly more challenging to design a layout that makes best use of the available space, but the rewards of greater long-term interest and better access make the extra effort worthwhile.

While considering the space, I also think about aisles, duckunders (if any), and overall reach required. Lots of plans flunk out at this stage, or require substantial rethinking and rework.

2) Thematic schematic

A model railroad schematic is the unwinding of the track plan to show the relationships between the various elements and connections. When I consider the schematic of a plan, I am looking first to see if it is logical and comprehensible (not the same thing!). Next I am thinking about what themes or concepts this schematic can support from an operating and/or model railfanning standpoint.

The image below is John Armstrong's Pennsylvania and Potomac from 101 Track Plans for Model Railroaders.

When we unwind this plan into its schematic, we discover that it's basically a continuous-run with a reversing connection.

With this type of schematic, it's possible to support a decent amount of operation, even in a relatively small space. Layouts with a lot of odd alternative routings and short-cuts can be hard to understand and operate and may not prove interesting in the long run.

I don't always sketch out the schematic when looking at a straightforward track plan, but it's a step I will take when trying to analyze something more complex. Since many designers either don't understand schematics or don't bother to check them, many plans are offered up for discussion (or even published) with inherent routing flaws.

3) To stage or not to stage

Personally, I like staging. I include it in most of my designs because I like the idea of trains leaving the visible layout to go "somewhere else" and for trains to arrive on the visible layout from "somewhere else". This gives me the feeling that the visible modeled scene in front of me connects with, and is influenced by, the larger unmodeled world.

Having said that, I'm not one to insist that every model railroad track plan requires staging, although many more could benefit from staging than are drawn with it. It depends on the owner's desires for the layout. An interest in operations or model railfanning seems to me to suggest staging, while a layout designed instead primarily for display of models might not suffer through lack of staging. (And some model railroaders just can't see the point of placing any track where it's secluded or hidden.)

What I am looking for in this step is to see if the owner's desires are reflected in the plan. Assuming there is staging, I am next looking for accessibility, capacity and the flexibility in the way the staging connects to the fully modeled scenes. Are the staging tracks sufficient in number and length to support the owner's desires and/or rolling stock inventory? Can trains from staging run only one way around the layout with no way to return?

I recently saw an HO layout design posted with a number of staging tracks that appeared to be about 18" to 24" in length. Unless it's an interurban or streetcar layout (and this was not), those clearly aren't long enough to be useful. Yet the design was greeted with the standard "Great, you’ve got staging!" litany of comments from the forum peanut gallery.

Track plans that survive this first round of analysis pass on to the consideration of more subtle, but equally important, elements. More on those later.

Index to all five trackplan analysis posts

You're not an expert if …

One of the things I find just plain silly is the large number of people on Internet forums who believe that they can present themselves as expert modelers by parroting certain stock criticisms or truisms that they feel denote expert status. As a public service, here are seven of these tired bromides … none of which mark you as an expert modeler.

Criticizing Model Railroader magazine does not make you an expert modeler.

No, it’s not perfect for everyone, but MR is the "big tent" that serves most of the hobby pretty well. Yeah, yeah, we get it, you're telling us you're much too advanced for MR magazine. We just don't believe you. Or care.

Unstinting loyalty to Athearn Blue Box does not make you an expert modeler.

Good grief. There are lots of terrific models on the market today. Some of Athearn's products are fine … some, with their warped car weights and meat-grinder drives, are better left as a hoary memory of the past.

Worshipping at the altar of Allen (or Ellison, or Westcott, et al) does not make you an expert modeler.

Being a groupie doesn't impart any special status to your modeling. Especially if it closes your mind to the myriad different approaches and concepts that can inform and improve your modeling and enjoyment of the hobby.

Complaining about prices does not make you an expert modeler.

No, it's not the world's cheapest hobby. But allowing for inflation, model railroading gear is a better buy relative to the past than are homes, gasoline, and automobiles. (Here's a tip: complaining about the price of cars doesn't make you Jeff Gordon, either).

Denigrating newbies and casual hobbyists does not make you an expert modeler.

Still haven’t started your layout because you haven't yet tracked down the names of the porters in all the Pullman cars operating over your stretch of mainline on April 9th, 1955? Your dedication to prototype authenticity is awe-inspiring. But it doesn't impress me to hear you rant about the guy who's actually building and enjoying something, albeit with some anachronisms. In fact, complaining about that guy's lack of modeling rigor just makes you sound like a bitter twit. Yo bro', it's a hobby!

Constantly predicting the death of the hobby does not make you an expert modeler.

These self-appointed Jeremiahs of the Johnson Bar harp incessantly about the impending death of the hobby, brought on by the proliferation of ready-to-run, the horrifying influx of unwashed masses who don't know their John Allen from their John Armstrong, and the fluoridation of public water supplies. Not that these folks ever do anything to bring newcomers into the hobby. Oh no, they've got much too much on their plate defending the hobby from the rabble who just want to build layouts and enjoy the process.

Kvetching about ready-to-run does not make you an expert modeler.

Face it, pilgrim, the hobby has changed. Models today are much more detailed than even 10 to 15 years ago. Way back when, RTR models were just kits that someone had assembled … now they are engineered for efficient production. Not everybody has time and skills to whip up an SP C10 2-8-0 MacGyver-like from two old tin cans and a roll of solder. But they can still build a great layout and that's a fine thing. And if you insist that scratchbuilding everything is the only true way to model railroad, have at it! Let us know how the armature-winding is going …

Of course, the people who need these tips the most won't see themselves in this list. They'll just stay in the group I like to call Doggedly Fretting about Unimportant Stuff (DFUS). In case you're wondering, that acronym is pronounced "Doofus".

Note: This post in no way is meant to criticize people who make the investment in time and effort to improve their skills, scratchbuild, and/or research the prototype. I find their efforts appealing and motivating. I have also found most of the true expert model railroaders I've met to be helpful, inclusive, and embracing of change. Unlike most of the DFUS crowd.

Warren Haynes has long been a favorite. Another member of the extended Allman Brothers family, his brawny vocals and smooth playing are a nice complement. Gigs with the Allman Brothers, The Grateful Dead(!), his own Gov't Mule, and solo make him one of the hardest working guitarists in rock. I enjoyed listening to Gov't Mule's The Deep End (Vol. 1) this weekend, which saw the surviving members of the original band teaming with a legendary roster of guest bass players, vocalists, and guitarists. The results are nicely diverse and it's interesting to hear some legendary players inspiring, and inspired by, Haynes and drummer Matt Abts.

Lost weekends

I've never been a big partier, so the title is not referring to some dissipative debauchery. Instead, it's describing the handful of weekends I've spent infatuated with a change in direction of what I plan to model. Most of these have been brief divergences driven by some off-hand discovery, article, or idea.

When I moved to the Bay Area in 1997, my plans were to build a proto-freelanced shortline/secondary mainline based on the proposed-but-never-built Midland Pacific. My layout design and operating plans for the Midland Pacific were covered in detail in the Layout Design SIG's Layout Design Journal # 35, December 2006.

Within a few years, I shifted concepts to a prototype-based Bay Area plan focused on San Jose and environs. I worked on this for a couple of years, until one day while on a walk I realized that San Jose was ten pounds of sugar in the five-pound sack that was my garage. The only way I could get all the things I really wanted into a layout was to proto-freelance. This led me to the Oakland Harbor Belt (OHB) layout currently under construction in the garage. I remain happy with this concept and I'm looking forward to it slowly taking shape.

But along the way, I've had ever-so-brief dalliances with other ideas, locales, eras, even scales. There was the one long holiday weekend (while my family was out of town) spent feverishly on the computer wrapping an HOn3 Hawaiian-themed proto-freelance layout into my garage space. Operations would have been somewhat limited with no interchange, but at least my HO-chauvinist friends could have read the car numbers. I decided I liked the OHB better, but I did get the germ of an idea for an article out of it, slated for publication soon in the commercial press. So that weekend wasn't really lost.

Another model RR crush was on the Central California Traction (CCT), an eminently modelable traction line turned diesel shortline. (Fan site here, the RR's official site here) This one was pretty serious, dropped only when I decided the lack of suitable models in N scale for the period in which I wanted to set the layout was going to be too difficult for me to overcome. Friend Dave Stanley has since written a terrific book on the CCT with Jeffrey Moreau. Fortunately, the book had not been published when I went through my brief CCT obsession, or who knows where I would have ended up! Once again, the focus was not wasted, because later I had the chance to do a custom proto-freelanced HO design for a client based loosely on the CCT and the neighboring Sacramento Northern.

One other weekend fling was with the Modesto and Empire Traction. This is a very neat little shortline that does some pretty big-time railroading in a few miles of industrial park in central California. In the end, my interest in rail-marine brought me back home to the OHB, but the idea of shoehorning some tight HO curves into the garage for a couple of Bachmann 70-tonners was good for some heated doodling. Eventually cooler heads (and some radius reality!) prevailed.

This last affair came to mind this month with the article by friend Trevor Marshall in the October 2007 Railroad Model Craftsman. Trevor does a great job outlining the present-day M&ET and offering a neat Free-Mo based layout design concept. It's a two-part article, so I am really looking forward to next month's issue. This is a very modelgenic prototype, especially for contemporary or near-contemporary layouts. No tangible results yet from my M&ET infatuation, but there is that long, empty wall in my office … and there are still some 70-Tonners around ….

Each of these brief flirtations has ultimately strengthened my focus on the OHB. The explorations of different eras, themes, even scales helps bring to light the reasons I made the choices and trade-offs that led to this concept. Hopefully these lost weekends will be fewer in number (and less intense in severity) as construction continues, but I'm glad for the perspective they brought along the way.

This weekend's guilty listening pleasure was Un-Led-Ed by Dread Zeppelin. Yes, a reggae band fronted by an Elvis impersonator doing Led Zeppelin covers. I can't explain why I enjoy listening to it … and I have even less justification for why I bought the CD in the first place. It was LA, I was young .... (alright, younger) This is definitely a once-per-decade listen -- but I liked it! (Talk about a lost weekend …)

Too common to name

Thanks to the Discovery Channel, most of us know the word describing animals that are active at night and rest in the daytime (like most bats, for example) -- it's "nocturnal". But is the word for being active in the day and resting at night on the tip of your tongue? It's "diurnal". Because I was a biologist once (a long, long time ago), it's a word I know well. But for most people, it's not a regular part of their vocabulary.

Why is that? It would seem that the word (diurnal) that describes our own mode of life would be more common to us than a word (nocturnal) that describes a foreign mode of life. The reason it's not, I submit, is that some things are almost too common to notice, remark upon, or even name. But those common things make up most of our life experience. The exceptions are memorable, but the common occurrences, sights, and experiences make up our definition of normal life.

"So how does this relate to layout design, operations … or really, to anything I care about, Byron?" you may ask. Simple. When we build a layout or design an ops session, I think it's easy to become focused-in on something unusual, something unique. Some amount of that defines the character of a prototype or a place, to be sure. But too much emphasis on the exceptional can give our layouts or op sessions an air of unreality.

This came to mind recently looking at Jim Boyd's photo of an Illinois Central E6 passing through Rockford, Ill. in June 1965 in the October 2007 issue of Railroad Model Craftsman (page 47). The subject of his photo is obvious, the relatively unusual (by that time) E6 on the point of the Land O' Corn. But there are a myriad of details in the rest of the photo that scream -- OK, whisper -- "reality". The longer I looked at the photo, the more these became obvious: signs hanging from storefronts; some windows open, some closed; access ladders; power poles; etc. While the rare E6 is interesting, the humdrum details make the photo look real.

If we were asked what we noticed about the photo, most of us would be hard-pressed to name a lot of these everyday elements -- they are so common we filter them out. But they are worth the extra effort to think about and include in a design or ops session. Layout Design SIG founder Doug Gurin and others speak of "modeling typicality", and that's excellent advice. And of course, it's possible to overdo these details into a cluttered mess that overpowers the viewer. The typical is not always easy to appreciate, or easy to capture, but its ubiquity makes it an important consideration.

An "eye for the usual" sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it's modeling the things that are "too common to model" that gives a scene life.

Preview of coming attractions

Friend Bart Thurber has already contributed substantially to my Oakland Harbor Belt layout. He's researched the locale and railroads that served it during many dusty hours in the Oakland Library's archives, joined me for study jaunts to see what's left of the prototype railroads in the area, and been a strong supporter of the concept.

But now he's really gone above and beyond … building his own version of a key element of the OHB. Alice Street Yard was the Santa Fe's outpost on Oakland's inner harbor, a pocket yard served only by car float from Richmond. (For more on Alice Street, refer to W.W. Childer's fine article in The Santa Fe Railway Historical & Modeling Society's Warbonnet, Third Quarter 2001.)

Bart's done a great job of squeezing an HO representation of Alice Street into a spare-bedroom-sized space. He was kind enough to invite me over to operate (or was it that I was there and invited myself to operate …). The layout is still in its early phases and Bart has yet to apply any of his fine modeling skills to the structures. Most of the industries are still mock-ups, but I had a very enjoyable time working the yard, team tracks, freight house and associated industries in response to the arrival of a couple of car floats (actually cars Bart interchanged by hand from storage drawers beneath the benchwork).

For a nearly-new layout, things ran well and we had only a couple of very minor hiccups. It was terrific fun actually operating for a change while Bart busied himself with the "hands-on" interchange and working the nearby SP tracks with another throttle. He's taken the time to add a coat of earth-colored paint and sprinkle a bit of ground cover. That, along with the industry mock-ups, was more than enough to put me in a fun railroadin' frame of mind.

Even better, I was essentially "test driving" a section of my own layout years before I will get to that phase of construction. During my planning, I've wondered if switching on my own depiction of the Alice Street Yard would be varied enough to hold an operator's interest. After this preview of coming attractions, I think it's going to be great. But, Bart, I might need to do some additional research … umm … maybe I'd better come by and operate some more …

Gavin DeGraw's 2003 album Chariot is a well-produced pop package. That description might put some people off, but I have enjoyed listening to it lately. Crisp but unpretentious guitar work by Michael Ward (Ben Harper, Shelby Lynne, Wallflowers) sets off DeGraw's vocals and keyboards while adding just a touch of Keith Richards-style bluesy greasiness to "Chemical Party" and a driving southern rock feel to "I Don't Want to Be". DeGraw's voice flows easily from a slightly gritty Black Crowes-esque vibe on the latter to a soulful strut on "(Nice to Meet You) Anyway". Yeah, the teens swooned for the "Chariot" video and know DeGraw from One Tree Hill, but I don't hold that against him.

A pleasant surprise

I've written quite a bit in my life: marketing and business plans, technical documentation, ad copy, articles on technology, ghost-written book chapters, even the odd model railroading article. But it was a neat surprise to open my copy of Model Railroader's How to Build Realistic Layouts: Freight Yards special issue this week. Obviously, I knew what my article "A Baker's Dozen Yard Ideas" would include -- I wrote the text and prepared some of the rough illustrations. But Andy Sperandeo and the folks at Kalmbach matched up portions of the text with file photography and new illustrations that added a lot to the piece. It's rare that I write something and feel that the final result is significantly better or more engaging than what I submitted, but in this case, it surely was.

The rest of the magazine is pretty interesting, too. I don't know if these special more-than-a-magazine-not-quite-a-book issues sell well from a marketing standpoint. But it was a real pleasure to see my work showcased in this one.

(Parenthetically, I have also been a bit surprised that a few folks don't seem to know that a "baker's dozen" is thirteen. When I was a kid, it was common for one additional donut or other baked treat to be included when a dozen of the same item was purchased (this carries on for donuts at our local purveyor). In this era of pre-packaged foods (and healthier eating!), perhaps it's not surprising that the phrase is less well-known. Interestingly, the baker's dozen seems to have originated in England out of a fear of penalties for selling a customer short.)

Three sides to every story

I had a fun meeting with (hopefully) a future layout design client this week. He's getting close to finalizing a new layout space, excellent modeler, knows his prototype really well, has a clear vision of what he wants to accomplish. And that prototype is new to me, fairly unique with a lot of character. All in all, a project I am genuinely looking forward to.

Generally, I think he and I share the same overall concept and vision of the layout. But even so, we have significant differences of opinion on the inclusion of some scenes over others. (Needless to say, the client always has the final choice, although I try to make my case well in the discussion.)

It is always fascinating for me to see how two relatively knowledgeable people can take the same prototype, givens and 'druthers, etc. and distill different visions of a layout. Our vision for a layout design is influenced both by the way we see and by the way we visualize -- two words that seem the same but are mirror images of one another.

His vision comes out of many years spent studying and admiring the prototype and designing his own earlier successful layout. There are towns and scenes he wants because he wants them. More justification isn't possible -- or necessary. Those towns are the sine qua non* of the prototype and region to him. At the same time, from my outsider's perspective, there are different towns and scenes that hold a particular appeal because they communicate something especially unique about the prototype. Well, and OK, a couple of them just fit better in the space.

There are three sides to this story: the historical reality of the prototype -- where it went and what it did; my client's heartfelt vision and visceral understanding of the line; and my own inclination toward choosing scenes that tell a unique story of the prototype and era (and oh by the way, will fit!).

The creative tension between these "three sides" of the story will ultimately result in a better layout. And selfishly, the challenge and reward in coordinating these many different elements is what makes layout design so much fun for me.

* from the Latin: "Without which, not; an indispensable condition"

My musical listening has finally moved back into this century with Steve Morse's Major Impacts. Morse is an incredibly gifted guitarist, beginning with the Dixie Dregs, then his own solo career, with some time out as "hired gun" guitar slinger with later-day incarnations of Kansas and Deep Purple. (Those two gigs alone tell you something about his range.) Major Impacts is unique -- Morse plays his own original tunes written and performed in the style of his major influences. Thus, there's a song in the style of the Rolling Stones, the Byrds, etc. (not covers, but original compositions). In a couple of interesting cases, Morse links some performers together in a single tribute, such as Jeff Beck/Alex Lifeson (Rush)/Eric Johnson. Listening to these multi-artist-inspired tunes is very interesting because one hears not only their influences on Morse, but on one another. And the Leslie West (Mountain) inspired tune sounds like Morse is channeling West's heavy licks note for note and tone for tone. Amazing instrumental virtuosity!

Change is choice

When I moved to the Bay Area, I had the pure dumb luck to pick a house a few miles away from custom layout builder Rick Fortin. Those of you who have seen some of my articles in the hobby press know that I have helped out a bit with construction and op sessions at Rick's layout over the last eight or nine years.

The quality with which Rick builds is an inspiration, and I've learned a lot just by being around the layout. But I still learn new lessons. A few days ago I dropped by while Rick and mutual friend Ted Thorson were reworking scenery as part of a project to put a connecting shortline into its first phase of operation. Rick has been extensively reworking sections of the layout roughed-in just a few years ago to create more realistic scenery profiles and add operating elements.

For many people, the thought of cutting into (even roughed-in) scenery is daunting. But Rick is always willing to make changes. This acceptance of the work required to make changes opens up many new choices, even for sections of the layout already in operation. One lesson learned for me is recognizing that every decision isn't "once and for all". If you're willing to make changes, it provides more choices in the future.

And that, in turn, helps diminish the "paralysis by over-analysis" so many of us experience.


Perhaps not the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to marry, but the late Warren Zevon had a keen eye, rapier-like wit, and certainly knew his way around a hook. While some of the lyrics are a little disquieting, A Quiet Normal Life: The Best of Warren Zevon is a lively look inside his mind and a time travel trip to the '80s. Nifty slide guitar and lap steel parts by Waddy Wachtel and David Lindley and that bright country-tinged production heard often in the era made this a fun listen this afternoon.

What's it worth?

Those Mastercard commercials are so ubiquitous that they've become shorthand in our culture. You know, the "insect repellent, 5 dollars; allergy medicine, 6 dollars; not spending your vacation scratching and sniffing? Priceless" commercials?

I was reminded of that as I surveyed my not-very-quickly-building layout domain in the garage. Because I changed the plan significantly post-first sawdust, I had to change the staging yard from one side of the garage to the other, then change the location of the loop in staging from one end of the yard to the other.

Throughout, I was trying to keep the forlorn and lonely body tracks of the original staging shelf. This led to an increasingly challenging series of mental and ladder gymnastics to try to make everything line up, even though I had flipped the whole thing end-for-end and side-to-side.

Then I realized, what was I actually saving? A piece of homasote and some flex track. Now it's true I hate to waste ... growing up with two parents who lived through and remembered vividly the Great Depression will do that to you. Oh, and I am what you'd call ... er ... stubborn.

But this had gone past frugality to stupidity. So in one swift motion, before I could change my own mind, I backed out the handful of screws holding homasote to plywood, broke the thing into chunks, and stuffed it into the trash can.

Not having to live for years with an earlier mistake? Priceless.