My Dream Layout
I can dream, can't I? I've had dreams of a dream layout ever since I started modeling when I was all of seven years old. And I'm sure I'm not alone—I'm certain I stand with droves of modelers who have images of dream layouts in their minds, despite having no chance of achieving them. I'm also equally certain there are a precious few of us out there who have realized their dream—emphasis on few. Lucky you!
Assuming I had an unlimited budget of money and, more importantly for me, an unlimited amount of time, what would my ultimate dream layout look like? I was actually within striking distance of realizing such a thing in 1987 when I embarked on the White River & Northern II in the basement of the first home I owned (below). It featured nearly all of the major targets I wanted to hit, and indeed it did so in unusual ways: it represented different eras and even different seasons on one contiguous layout—a ballsy, if insane, move. It had it all: from big city congestion to urban industrial, from steel mills to New England narrow gauge, from steam to diesel and even electric!
The city was the 1980s (present-day at the time I designed it) in the spring; the industrial suburbs in a 1950s summer; and the mountainous region—featuring a dual-gauge mining line, complete with an incline—was set in a 1930s fall. Then, winter in the 1900s presented a narrow-gauge New England logging line in deep snow.
Perhaps one of the most unusual aspects of the layout was a planned river to fill the canyon: it would slide out from under the layout in sections like giant drawers that fit together, ending at an enormous fold-out dam located roughly across from Spano Bay. The scenery from there along the mountain range to the top-most point on the layout would drop all the way to the floor.
Ambitious? Absolutely! Satisfying? Without question! Realistic? Let me get back to you on that one. Still, I firmly believe I could have done this, assuming I had more resources, specifically time and money. Anyway, this dream was cut short by divorce.
The closest I came to actually realizing at least some of the elements of a dream layout was the White River & Northern IV (above), "the one where the trains actually ran," as I'm fond of saying. Given that it appeared in Great Model Railroads 2000, and was also chosen to be part of an NMRA tour, I must have done something right. Not only that, the plan appears in Kalmbach's 102 Realistic Track Plans. I'm flattered, to be sure, but also perplexed, because it's hardly a realistic plan! Anyway, the dream layout targets I hit with this layout include a convincing depiction of an urban industrial environment, as well as a fairly significant amount of animation. But owing to its compact size—only 7 by 11 feet—it barely scratched the surface for me. Anyway, this dream was cut short by divorce.
Not long afterward I suffered a nervous breakdown, the consequence of which was my most bizarre layout concept of all, but not because of the layout's design; actually, of any layout I've doodled, this one was the most firmly rooted in reality. No, it was the location of the layout itself: it completely filled the living and dining rooms of a condo; I turned the master bedroom into my living room, and the second bedroom (where the WR&N IV used to reside) into my master bedroom. Dining room? Who needed one?
The White River & Northern V (above) was an attempt to capture the the most realistic depiction of Eastern railroading possible, right down to the mainline rerouted through tunnels and across viaducts, abandoning the original route along a river as it wound around a mountain range. It also retained the thick urban industrial regions from its predecessor, and benefited from the addition of numerous scenes around the remains of a canal—another favorite theme (think New Hope meets Easton). There was an awful lot of potential with this one, even though it left quite a lot off of my wish list; I got as far as completing most of the steel benchwork before my sanity returned.
One might have thought that, as I built my own home, complete with a specially-designed layout room, I was ready to embark on my dream. But the layout room was only 11' 8" by 14' 10", barely enough for a fraction of what I'd want. This, however, was by design: at that point in my life, I knew I wouldn't have the time left to complete a true dream layout. My first pass at a track plan (above) was the Reading Central, my stab at a compromise between dream and reality. It never stood a chance; it was so ridiculously condensed that I doubt I could have completed it, no matter how much time and money I had available. I switched to the Black River & Western (below) as a means to find something I felt was realistically achievable, and that also scratched a rather different, very sentimental itch. Anyway, this dream was also cut short—not by divorce, but instead by health issues.
And so, from that point onward, I was relegated to dreaming. On the plus side, I can imagine anything I'd ever want; on the minus side, I'd never get to have the satisfaction of actually building, seeing or enjoying anything tangible.
If dreams are all I have left, then so be it; I'll break out my imaginary track planning graph paper and my imaginary pencils and have at it. But it's not as simple as that, because one of the biggest problems I have in coming up with the ultimate layout is that I do not have a favorite modeling era; my interests span a broad range of time, from the turn of the century through to the present, as well as an enormous geographical area, covering a giant triangle from Chicago across to Maine and down to Virginia. And so I might summarize my dream layout as a blending of all of the above plans. Each one had its strengths, its special appeal.
However, I've never had, and still do not have, any interest in operation. Very likely any big layout I built would run as if it was a museum display: trains would all do laps on their own, except perhaps for a few that visitors were allowed to run, and most of the animations would be under viewer control. Having said that, if the layout were truly "dream-sized," I'd make it fully operational, but leave all operating responsibility with a "club" formed solely for the purpose. I very much enjoy the idea of "hosting" operating sessions in which I merely observed, or played Mr. Fixit, running around making sure everything operated properly—which, as it happens, was precisely my role during a number of operating sessions I attended at the Sceniced and Undecided, all those decades ago. Despite all of the setbacks I've suffered over the years, I confess I've enjoyed as many delights. I may not have been able to build my dream layout, but it certainly wasn't all bad!
At any rate, I thought it might be mildly amusing for my "regulars" to have a peek at my most cherished modeling fantasies—a look at what might have been in some alternate reality where dreams do come true.
Also see: Gallery of Favorite Modeling Images
—DKS, 30 December 2022