A few years ago I saved the slats from an old, cheap bed that my daughter wasn’t going to use any more. I knew I’d find a use for them eventually and sure enough, we needed quite a few risers. In fact the slats were very good quality fir, much nicer than the 1x2 furring strips we’d used for the rest of the benchwork.
While some of the kids were gluing the Homosote to the plywood roadbed pieces others were sawing up the slats into 4 inch lengths. It actually took several days of regular effort to get all the risers we needed cut up, and by the end of the process a couple of the most dedicated sawyers were becoming proficient enough to take some pride in their ability. It’s one of those tasks that allows one to get into a wonderful state sometimes called “flow,” where you are focused, optimally challenged and productive. It was good to see them get a taste of that.
It was the end of the school year and we had run out of time. I was pretty sure we would, which is why I let the 7th graders take the lead on the layout building. They would be returning for another year and be able to pick up where they left off, while the 8th grade students “graduate” and go off to high school elsewhere. I didn’t want to rush the process of installing the risers – figuring grades and vertical curves is a key mathematical aspect of the project and I wanted to be sure the kids could really get their minds around it. But, it also seemed important for all the kids, especially the departing 8th graders, to have some sense of accomplishment and closure.
So I spent about ten minutes with each class showing them how the risers would be used to adjust the precise vertical alignment of the roadbed and temporarily clipping them into rough position so that both the horizontal and vertical orientations of the curved paths were approximated.
But for the kids to really feel that we’d hit a milestone I decided to assemble a length of flextrack along the path of the main and run a train. I had only about 15 minutes before classes began on the last day of school, so 10 lengths of flextrack with very hastily installed joiners went down floating freely on the Homosote with no fasteners of any kind. Alligator clips from the power and control box. Set up an engine and the colorful cars from the Inglenook.
Somehow I managed to run a train up and back to test the flimsy trackwork with 5 minutes to spare, so I had a chance to add a dollop of ceremony to the occasion. I had a full size track spike I’d picked while watching some yard ops up a few weeks earlier, and a packet of gold leaf material I use when we explore very small numbers (“if this gold leaf is .003 mm (3 x 10^-3) thick and we covered the entire floor of this room with it, what size cube of gold would we need to start with?”).
As it turns out gold leaf doesn’t adhere well to rust, but you see what I was going for here. I also “plated” a scale spike and set it into the roadbed next to the rail (just visible where the arrow is pointing below) so a student could drive it home amid cheers and applause.
The kids streamed in and the speeches began. Students reflected on what they’d learned, what they enjoyed (and didn’t enjoy) and how they felt about the project. Another teacher took pictures but I haven’t connected with her to be able to share them. Sorry about that.
That afternoon a group of students helped me dismantle the layout and carry it section by section up to storage space in the attic of our building. My room gets used by a summer camp program and has to be completely empty. I was quite pleased by this test of the benchwork design, the sections were very lightweight and easy for two students to handle, even on the steep stairs.
Now I had the entire summer to plan Phase II!
Jeff Allen