Sunday, October 2nd, 2011

image of the Lost Continent Railway

The track gang has earned their keep this weekend.

This was the scene this afternoon at the crossing on the low end of the Lost Continent Railway. With the last of the rails laid through the crossover, the return loop was completed at about three-thirty and the chief engineer, standing on the roof of the cab of the work train’s engine, yanked the cord on the whistle to signal an early end to the working day. “It’s a good day’s work, boys,” he told the track gang. “If you stop in at The Draw Bar on your way home, the first round’s on me.” Three cheers went up from the gang as the chief climbed down from the cab.

On what was likely the last really nice weekend, which I probably should have spent in the saddle of my bike (did you know that cyclists refer to bike seats as &#147saddles?” Pretentious bastards, aren’t they?) or hiking through a park while I can still do that without hearing the crunch of leaves underfoot, I was instead in the basement of Our Humble O’Bode for several hours yesterday and today, cutting and burning my fingers as I pieced together this last daunting section of track.

I can’t say I enjoyed it. I got a lot of satisfaction out of standing back and admiring the finished product, but getting this far required a lot of cussing. Yes, required. There are some things I really can’t apply myself to unless I have the freedom to blow off steam through cussing prodigiously while I’m trying to work my way through a really tough problem. I’m not sure I’d be able to ever join a model railroader’s club unless the rest of the members cussed like construction workers.

The section of track outlined in blue painter’s masking tape was especially satisfying to complete because it required that I concentrate intensively on planning, execution and, of course, cussing. I had to cuss ten times as hard to complete that crossover (the Hella scale of cussing increases logarithmically, with each escalation being ten times more blisteringly offensive than the previous onslaught). I laid down blue tape so I could peel up the glued-down ties in case I botched the job, something that seemed likely as my scratchbuilding skills are no better than rudimentary at this point, but that wasn’t necessary, thank dog, and I was able to finish off the crossing this afternoon by laying flex track on the road bed and connecting it to the hand-laid track.

Compare to the same view on May 28th.

crossed | 6:24 pm CDT
Category: entertainment, hobby, LoCo Rwy
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