Front page | Contact us | Pick-up locations | Ad rates
 

Keeping Track of Trains
Keeps local train fans on track

 

trains
Twenty years ago, Cliff West heard on the radio there was a model train show at Longview’s Triangle Mall and hustled over to see it.

The Columbia & Cowlitz Model Railroad Train Club’s four members were there, manning their lone train layout. When West, who lives in Rainier, asked about joining, they said they didn’t want any new club members. By chance, however, two other men happened along, also curious about the club.

“We all three wanted to join ‘em and they turned us down,” West recalled. Instead of feeling dejected, they went to a nearby coffee shop to get acquainted and, soon after, formed what is today the Longivew-Kelso-Rainier Model Railroad Club.  Over the years, West estimated, about 30 people have been involved in the club, which welcomes new members and is eager to share the hobby.  Not surprisingly, the Columbia & Cowlitz Model Railroad Club is long since defunct.

Since he was “old enough to know what a train was,”  – about age 5 — West, now 60, has been a rail fan. “From where we lived (in Astoria),” he recalled, “you could see the railroad bridge across the bay.” As a little boy, he would watch from the window. “It came just before dinner time.” West was also drawn to railroad photography and some-times used his Dad’s camera—without permission — while his Dad was at work. Later, when the film was developed, “half the roll was pictures of trains,” taken by young Cliff.

“I got in trouble for it,” he recalled, chuckling.

The timeless allure of trains is based on many things, said Longview resident Rob Painter, 33, current president of the club. Some people are looking for friends to “talk trains” with, while others are attracted by the model-building aspect, or a simple fascination with machines and moving parts.
peffley
The cost to get started in model railroading is $100-200, West said, which “will get you a basic locomotive, a few cars, some track and a power supply.” You also need some space. Cliff West’s train room is 13 feet square, with a 16-inch wide shelf along all four walls, four feet above the floor. Not everybody has a spare room, however. What do train enthusiasts do if they live in a small house or apartment?

“That’s where the club comes in,” he said. Members each have a key and  can visit the club layout on their own any time, not just on Tuesday evenings. “You can bring your toys and play.”

“At malls,” he said, “people want to see the trains going  ‘round and ‘round.” But rail enthusiasts take train travel to the next level. “It’s fun to run it like a real railroad,” switching engines, sending locomotives to the engine house and re-arranging cars, based on where the train might be headed.

“If you like doing things with your hands,” West noted, “it’s a very rewarding hobby,” much like the theatre, with carpentry, wiring, scenery and track work. There is also the nostalgia of what some people consider a “bygone era,” he added, despite the fact that trains are changing with the times and constantly evolving. “Trains are not going away,” he said. When all is said and done, there’s a simple appeal for all ages, said Painter, whose 6-year-old son, Jimmy, has a Lionel set.

It’s fun to run the train.”

THEY CHOO-CHOO-CHOOSE TO SHARE THEIR HOBBY
The Longview-Kelso-Rainier Model Railroad Club, open to anyone 16 and older, collects dues of  $5 per month. After a 6- month probation and approval by the board, you will be a key-carrying member.  Children under 16 can join if mature and accompanied by a parent.

The club’s impressive  14' x 24' HO scale (87 times smaller than real trains) layout  is a project that is never quite finished. Each week, members add to it, modify it, admire it, repair it, and talk about it. The  layout is constructed so it can be disassembled and taken to  shows and conventions.

Meetings are every Tuesday at 7 pm in the basement of the Riverside Church (former elementary school), 3rd and West “C” Street, Rainier. Visitors are welcome.

Model railroading is a hobby enjoyed by over 300,000 Americans and many thousands more throughout the world. A good book is Playing with Trains: A Passion Beyond Scale, by Sam Posey.

For more information, call Rob Pointer, 360-577-8319 or Cliff West, 503-556-2407.

 

Cover page photo: Cliff West and Doug Markhart enjoy sharing their hobby at a meeting of the Longview-Kelso-Rainier Model Railroad Club.
A CHRISTMAS MEMORY -- by David Bell


‘Twas very early, the morning of my eighth Christmas. My younger sisters and I were peeking around the door frame into the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, to see if Santa had actually made it down our chimney. Much to our glee, there were colorful packages where none had existed just the night before.

After what seemed like eons, Mom and Dad finally got the movie camera and the movie camera lights set up so they could record our choreographed and orderly entrance into the room. Mom handed out the presents as Dad filmed our reactions. I remember being handed the special present, which of course, was always the last one.

I had no idea what might be lurking just a few millimeters beneath the colorful wrapping. I grabbed the bow with the deftness of a samurai warrior, and in one motion, breached the wrapping, revealing the word Lionel.  I sat in stunned silence. The look on my face must have made Dad smile.

We were a family of modest means and I did not let myself wish for something as wonderful as train set. I spent the rest of Christmas setting up the six-foot oval. I remember laying my head on the rug so I could look down the track as the huge locomotive bore down on me, only to turn at the last second to follow the track. I fell asleep listening to the wheels making their click-clack noise. I loved playing with that train.
bell
It is 50 years later, and somewhere along the way I transfered my fascination with trains to airplanes, which might explain 20-plus years in the U.S. Air Force. You never lose your fascination with things, they just move into the background.

Note: David Bell retired from the U.S. Air Force after more than 20 years as an engineering technician and now works as a manufacturing technician for Intel in Aloha, Ore.. He has seven grandchildren, including 3-year old David in Portland, who will receive a wooden train set this Christmas – a gift from Grandpa Bell, whom we’re betting will find plenty of opportunities to join him in playing with it, perhaps allowing his fascination with trains to return to the foreground.


The Starry Heavens Above and the Moral Law Within
by Alex Louise Whitman
(Alex Whitman is an instructor of English and Spanish at Lower Columbia College, Longview. This  essay is from her collection entitled "The Wishing Trail: Essays from the Benchland Farm")

Eighteenth-century German philosopher Immanuel Kant, one of the most influential thinkers of modern times, pursued a rich inner life, two ideas filling his mind with ever-increasing awe—”the starry heavens above and starrynightthe moral law within.” These formed the basis for his philosophy, which accepted the probability of a god and at the same time assigned responsibility to people based on their own reason. A person who followed his instincts, used whatever intelligence he was given, and possessed intrinsic goodwill would serve the community out of duty, and because of his contributions, the community would be better. One did a job simply because it needed doing and because he was the one most qualified to do it. And, according to Kant, since these attributes—instinct, reason, and goodwill—were universal, everyone was worthy of the same high level of respect.

This philosophy makes sense to me, for it is both spiritual and rational. I, too, have stood in awe on August nights, mesmerized by splendent stars or a pearly moon, my eyes unblinking and neck muscles cramped from arching backwards. The darkness and silence paralyze all but the spirit, a force leaping and surging as if the very energy from that infinite inkiness were striking all my synapses at once. In October I have lain flat on the central bench above Chicken Run, wrapped in warm wool blankets and gazing heavenward, holding my breath in expectation of a meteor darting across the sky, a silver streak, a bright blaze guaranteed to make my heart thump. I am not disappointed. I’ve stretched out on the ground down by the pond to watch the streaming aurora borealis, its silent movement undulating light and color against a firmament blacker than a raven’s eye. These empyrean phenomena, mysterious and distant shreds of heavenly flame, pierce the darkness then retreat. Inaccessible to us except in the imagination, like elusive thoughts they slip away before the mind can assimilate them.

In the benchland mountains, nights like these were silent; even pond frogs refrained from song as if engaged in some kind of sacred amphibian prayer. In the blackness I was powerless, filled with wonder at the profound silence. I heard only the music of the spheres, a perpetual concert of stars and planets revolving around suns in untold numbers.

Thirty and some years later, the night sky still holds for me the true and ultimate paradise, a superconscious state in an abstract place far beyond that which the rational mind can grasp, and which no words but those poetic can express. I find a deity here, a god of mystery and beauty, of goodness and peace, an incomprehensible god who guides and rewards, and for whom I need no evidence and no words.
Kant’s moral philosophy reaffirms my own sense of mission. When something needs to be done and I am the one most qualified to do it, I shall. This is nothing noble or praiseworthy, but mere obedience. When called, I follow instinct, put my head to work, and draw upon the goodwill that arises out of a profound respect for the dignity of all life forms, from the most insignificant, nameless, dust-laden insect to the rare and showy mariposa lily.

Authors’ Note: In the early 1970’s, my then-husband and I joined other back-to-the-landers of that era by purchasing a 200-acre farm in the mountains of Eastern Washington, 10 crow-miles from the Columbia River, which separates Stevens County from Ferry County in that remote corner of the state. Our purpose was to find the good life—a spartan, self-sustaining life founded on hard work, which, we believed, only the natural land could offer. The term “benchland” refers to the way in which tillage can occur on mountainous fields flat enough for a four-wheel-drive tractor to maneuver without toppling over. Chicken Run was a sled path named for the chickens that lived in a nearby henhouse.
 
Top of this page
Return to Columbia River Reader Homepage