blog.jerm.ca

IP Engineering seems to hold a monopoly on rolling stock and locomotive sales to the CSLR. Some might wonder if there’s an exclusivity agreement in affect, negotiated in some shady Turkish cafe. But the truth is that IP make a fine, quality product at a fine price and I believe in supporting good businesses. So it will be of little surprise to anyone that under the Yule/Christmas tree was another IP Engineering kit. Only this one is made of something called “plastic”. A strange, pliable yet stiff material that bonds with a noxious smelling cement. All smart-assery aside, this is the first kit from IP I’ve assembled that isn’t laser cut wood. I had some concerns about that initially; working with wood is quickly becoming second nature to me. But so far…

So far I’m loving the plastic all over again. The latest offerings in IP’s Ezee line (which is wood based) come with the laser cut pieces still attached to the sheet leaving the customer to seperate them by cutting strategically placed sprues. I wouldn’t necessarily call the procedure difficult, but it’s not easy, either. The little tabs of plywood can be surprisingly difficult to cut through. In plastic it’s a whole other story and the knife slices easily through the sprues. For that reason alone I’m already loving this kit.

The kit? Oh, this won’t do. I’ve gone two paragraphs and I haven’t even mentioned what the kit is yet. As much as I love the Ezee range, the models are small even by narrow gauge standards. The kit in question is IP’s Lucy – a small, but larger locomotive in SM45. This represents a move up to a more standard loading gauge that resembles a real, operating railway and not a park train or an estate line. The Ezee range coach, for example, scales to roughly five feet high on the side. Following the philosophy of there’s-a-prototype-for-everything, I’m positive that somewhere at sometime there was such a small vehicle in revenue service (which I represent), but something that small is more likely to be found brightly painted and trundling around the local zoo.

Back to the build…

No.4 (name to be determined) is being built in chunks into sub assemblies each time I visit my parents on Sunday. Since this is a larger build and just a little more elbow room is required this makes sense and I’d rather have everything concentrated in one place, especially when it comes time to paint (an activity for which my apartment is not suited for in the slightest). The first subassembly was the chassis and the frame. Most – actually, all – kit’s I’ve put togethor at this point have had the axles ride on bearings inside the axle boxes (journals) themselves. No.4 is different in that the axle boxes are merely decorative. To that end there is an inside chassis and an outer frame (my terminology). The axles ride on inside bearings mounted in the chassis while the axle boxes are mounted on the sole bars of the frame at the same spacing as the axles. I made a small error in this assembly (while following instructions, I might add).

Chassis and frame, presented in an inverted state for illustrative purposes.

The included documentation instructs to set the sole bars 10mm back from the edge of the frame. Following this, I found that left far too little room in between for the wheels and had to break the fresh weld to reposition them. I’m going to be documenting this build weeks behind actuall progress and because a few weeks have passed since I completed this step the details of the incident have faded some. But I believe the reason for this mistake is that the instructions are written assuming you’re building the kit to 32mm gauge and not my 45mm gauge. Don’t hold me to that, but that spacing would give ample room for a 32mm axle.

Next step: The cab

End note: Also, I found at the bottom of a box the alligator which I thought I hid out in the garden two years ago and haven’t seen since; presumed missing.

I was going to have a post up tonight but I’ve had an awfully long day. I’m writing this on my Kobo, which is relevant because I realized I haven’t touched a physical keyboard all day and I’m aiming to keep it that way. So, new post tomorrow.

Three weeks without any time spent in a workshop is about three weeks too many. But I guess that’s what the holiday season is for – shrugging off leisure time for baking, shopping, wrapping, feasting, socializing, more baking, more socializing, napping, recovering from the aforementioned feasting and socializing and so on. Even though I had a full, luxurious ten days away from work I had precious little time to pick up a knife, hammer, soldering iron, or other tools of the trade. At the risk of sounding Scrooge like, I must say in some respects I am glad the holidays are over. Now, back to work of all varieties!

Impressed with the results of the first coach make-over, the first project of the year (oh, and happy 2012 everyone) was to continue the refurbishments to the rest of the coaching stock. I learned a couple of lessons from the first and last attempt – namely not to scribe the planking on the very thin wood with a knife (as it’s prone to cutting right through) and use something somewhat more blunt (a sharpened pencil in this case). The new rooves for the remaining coach and saloon look much better than the first attempt. I thought the graphite from the pencil would stand out like a sore thumb, but surprisingly it blends in well with the wood stain leaving just enough of an impression of planking.

I used more care in attaching the rooves this time – which was an easier task since I hadn’t broken them in half like the last attempt. Before that though, I touched up the window frames with a light cream white where ever it was needed and added glazing cut from transparent sheets for a projector.

Another lesson learned is that small lengths of thin brass rod do not resemble door hinges or handles, at least not the crude snip-and-glue method I tried. I firmly believe in the two-foot rule (if I don’t notice it more than two feet away I don’t care), and it’s true that you can’t really see the handles or hinges made in this method from that distance, but I know they’re there and I know how bad they look so I’m making an exception.

The last time I visited my “local” hobby store which also doubles as a purveyor of doll house materials, wares, furnishings and so forth, I noticed some brass hinges and handles intended for miniature dwellings. I’m not sure what the scale of these fittings is supposed to be, but I have confidence that they will fit the bill for 16mm. They are, however, somewhat pricey which is why I haven’t bought and fitted them yet, but I will one day as soon as budget allows. I could be mistaken but I think this is one of those few things that can’t be bashed together effectively on the cheap.

And thus apart from the door fittings I feel that the coaching stock is now “done”. At least until I get my next bright idea. I’m not bothering with an interior, mostly because of the two-foot rule but also because my railway is at ground level one can not properly see inside unless one is lying on the grass. I’ve reached that rare state where I feel finally satisfied with the culmination of my work. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m quite proud of it.

Well, actually now that I see this picture I realize with horror that the observation platform/veranda on the saloon is unpainted and undecorated. As is usually the case, I suppose there’s still more to do. Oh well, back to the workshop!

Technically this should have been posted back on the solstice, but since I was run off my feet, it wasn’t. But, with the magic of the Internet, I can back date it!

First, I raise a glass to Odin, father of victory, poetry and wisdom. It is for wisdom in particular that I honour him tonight. When I read the news, check in on Twitter, or even hear what her Ladyship has to report from her friends across the world,  I always find myself shaking my head and thinking of how much this weird, messed up world we inhabit right now could use more wisdom, even just a little. Wisdom to make the right decisions, wisdom to admit to bad decisions and seek a means of correction. Wisdom to perceive our faults and wisdom to better ourselves. A victory is a great thing, but without wisdom you can not hope to maintain it. So here’s to you, you wise old man! May this new year bring wisdom to us all. Hail!

Second, moving from one father to another, I raise a toast to my own father. In the past sixteen months my father has been diagnosed with cancer, gone through chemo and radiation, surgery and the long recovery period and come out the other side. Dad, you’ve faced it with a grace and determination I only hope I can muster should I ever face that myself. In the months that have passed, every time I have found myself in a moment of personal hardship I’ve stopped to think about what he has gone through and tell myself  ”if he can make it this far, than I can most assuredly do this!”

This past week my parents have bought themselves a little sports car under the reasoning that since 2011 was such a bad year they deserved such a little sports car. I couldn’t agree more.

So here’s to you, Dad! Hail!

Finally, as we move head first into a bold (and hopefully better) new year I look back on what I have done up to this point and I find myself wanting. So here, on this night, I make this decree: 2012 will be the year I put away the excuses and the writer’s block and I self publish. I make this oath on the hammer that this year I will finally write a piece I’ve been working on for some time and have it ready by 2013 for self publishing. No more excuses, no more delays, no more putting it off for another time. This year I will self publish.

But, such a boast does come with a weight when compared to my past history of seeing projects such as this through to completion. And so, I also swear by the hammer that should I fail in my efforts through fault of my own, I will hold a feast for the local author’s group to which I belong including as many kegs as necessary for the enjoyment of my fellow writers.

Hail!

And hail to you, my friends, family and readers! May this new year bring to you all that you wish for and when we meet again in twelve months time, may we all have smiles on our faces!

As devoted a fan I am of I.P. Engineering’s Ezee range, one thing I absolutely hate about them is the roofs. The stock roof supplied with each kit (that has a roof) is a sheet of styrene, about 2mm thick. Now I love styrene but the curve that this sheet has to be bent to is rather tight and the piece small. To date only one of my Ezee kits actually uses the supplied roof, the others I have substituted. My material of choice so far has been poster board. It’s cheap, easy to craft and sticks well. What it does not do well, though, is look like a roof. It looks like paper. Because, well, it is paper. To make matters worse, for some reason I just can not find any suitable colour of poster board. Everything around here is either stark white or impossibly black. There is no grey poster board to be found. None. Also it conforms a little too well to the roof line and warps over every defect making any imperfection plainly visible.

This past weekend I tried a new solution – thin basswood scored length wise to resemble planks. The wood already bent well to begin with but the scoring helped it even more. This was glued to the roof line and once dry, stained with a wood stain pen. The result is… not perfect, I would say, but in my estimation it’s a lot better than the paper. Yes, I’m well aware that in the attached photographs the roof doesn’t appear to be straight. This will be sorted out the next chance I get. On my first attempt I was a little too aggressive it seams with my scoring and I ended up cutting the roof right in half. I was able to salvage this but there is a slight gap between the two roof segments. I’ll probably take the design a step further and add a layer of painted tissue over top to represent canvas roofing. This will have the added benefit of covering up any mistakes such as the above.

The second big accomplishment this weekend is the completion of the first snow plow! W00t! It’s a simple assembly of wood, including scraps salvaged from the old water tower, and four nut/bolt/washer castings for superfluous detail. The entire assembly is “bolted” to the end of a HLW open wagon that has served as a test bed for various other projects. The entire vehicle ends up rather on the heavy end and should have no problem staying on the tracks. I haven’t tested it yet but I’m already seeing a flaw in the design. Two of them, actually. The first flaw is the geometry and position of the blade. I fear it’s too narrow and too far forward to clear the track adequately. Second problem is those castings. While they may look good, I wonder how long they’ll survive.