Forgive me if the title conjures up an image of a grocery store’s improving trade figures (or possibly of a surge of interest in some obscure evangelical denomination) but it does seem to fit the bill. To begin at roughly the beginning, in early 2014 the West Lancashire Light Railway lost one of its elder statesmen when Derek Preece passed away. As well as an experienced and capable driver of 2ft gauge locos, Derek was also a keen 16mm modeller, and had built (or assisted in building) a number of layouts. So much so that when Mrs Preece was advised of the discovery of an old layout bearing his name in a West Lancs goods van, the response was ‘What, another one?’ Her offer to donate it to the railway was a generous one, possibly also tinged with a little relief.

 

As it happened, for most of the previous twelve months I had been mithering anyone who didn’t walk away fast enough with various plans for a proper exhibition-standard layout, as an upgrade to my existing effort, Walmer Bridge. This had been built partly to satisfy my own ego but also to realise the Corris exhibition manager’s desire to have live steam at his show. Both ambitions were satisfactorily achieved, and the layout also appeared at the Peterborough show two years running. As the scenery was more demonstrative than life-like, it unsurprisingly failed to register in any list of visitors’ favourites. However a number of people did grasp its real intent, which was to show what could be done in a small space indoors.

 

A new design

The new layout I was proposing would involve a number of local people contributing, possibly on the modular principle. A potentially-suitable baseboard set had been offered for sale, courtesy of Chris Mackenzie, but the level of interest in the project was not the overwhelming rush my sunny, optimistic nature might have wished. So when Derek’s layout surfaced I tried another tack. His baseboards were constructed on a somewhat heroic scale, and not really suitable for a fully-portable layout. However the 40ft or so of Tenmille track seemed to be in good condition, and included a full half-dozen points of assorted handage. With new lightweight baseboards, a layout might be constructed which could be run not only at West Lancs gala days (alongside the resident layout Hundred End) but also at exhibitions and other events where the railway’s display boards were shown.

 

The clincher, so I hoped, would be involvement of Mike Lowe, proprietor of Pendle Valley Workshop and maker of a wide range of quality resin building kits. If Mike could be persuaded to lend us a suitable sub-set of his output, we could reciprocate by showing the layout at events attended by the Pendle Valley sales stand. It would then be a simple matter of saying to all who came near ‘this is how good Pendle buildings look on an operating layout, and right there is where you can buy them’. A cunning wheeze, or what? Fortunately Mike thought so, or was too polite to say otherwise, and the plan was hatched.

 

The name Middleforth came from yet another layout built at West Lancs by local 16millers in the 1970s, but long since decayed until only the name board remained. It was exhibited at the Railway and at local shows and events, but gradually painted wings and giant strings made way for other toys, and those involved turned to other forms of the magic puffing dragon. A handful of photos survive on the internet, courtesy again of Mr Mackenzie. Possibly a reader or two may remember the original layout - if so I trust they will not mind too much how it has been brought back to life.

 

Starting the build

Alan Frodsham, West Lancs’ resident pattern-maker, volunteered to help with the woodwork, which involved some tricky joinery to include a pair of 3ft turntables at either end of a set of 4ft by 3ft 3in plywood boards. I wanted an end-to-end to differentiate it from the previously-mentioned layouts, which were both ovals of a similar size, and to make it an easier fit when set up in the engine shed at Hesketh Bank. It would also be a different type of operating challenge, requiring more skill with loco controllers than is normal for the average roundy-roundy. The plan, such as it was, was for a small village at one end and either railway workshops or some industrial elements at the other.

  

So in the middle of the quite long, quite hot summer of 2014 we dug the layout boards out of the van (no mean feat considering their weight, and the amount of other valuable clutter stored therein) and set to to remove the trackwork. Most of it came off fairly easily, although there were parts where the combination of rusted pins and age-hardened glue resisted removal more than one would have liked. The points were particularly fiddly, as there was a risk of them all falling apart into a random jigsaw puzzle of sleepers, chairs and check rails. However after some careful cleaning and only modest amounts of reassembly we had the basis for fulfilling the track plan. At the time this was little more than a scribble on some graph paper, its main components being a main line along the front of the layout, a loop going off to the main station, and a couple of sidings.

 

The first construction target was to build the turntables. Now you have probably seen, or possibly even built, the sort of neat, properly-engineered devices used to handle stock at the extremities of end-to-end layouts. Unfortunately I don’t do neat or proper to any significant degree, so my effort was always going to be a bit on the scruffy side. But it had to work, as the First Law of the Exhibition is to Keep Stuff Running, or else visitors get bored and move on, no matter how exquisite your scenic detailing might be.

 

The first task was to cut out the circular base on which the moving parts would sit. I had never used an industrial-strength jigsaw before, but after a little tuition from Froddy I found myself concentrating hard at aligning a large unwieldy board at just the right angle to keep the blade cutting in as precise a circle as I could manage. Despite a few minor diversions the end result was round enough to pass muster. I then relocated the cut-out section back in the hole where it came from but a couple of inches lower, and supported it with some 2” x 1” battens.

 

Using some donated rail I then laid a circle of track around the edge of this base, the radius being a somewhat alarming 16”. A plank salvaged from an old bunk bed then had a pair of bogies fitted underneath, one at each end, and a hole bored through its centre. A length of proper Peco track was laid on top and the whole assembly placed on the circular base, the hole locating a large bolt secured vertically in the centre of the base. 

 

Then came the test - would the plank revolve smoothly on the circle of track? Of course not - it jammed against the baseboard top and wobbled excessively, and both bogies derailed. Much muttering and fiddling about later and it did go round well enough, even with a locomotive load, providing two hands were used and a temperate rotational speed observed. More fiddling with the base supports and it went round at the right height, with the Peco track matching up with the Tenmille laid on the baseboard top. Sighs of relief all round, and the building contractor celebrated with a bottle of Shepherd Neame's best. Not surprisingly the second turntable enjoyed a more straightforward creative stream, lessons having been learned. Then it was out with a paintbrush to give everything an initial coat of coloured wood preserver.

 

With much of the hard work done, and most of the worry removed over the layout’s viability, it was time to design the track plan properly. The only place suitable to take all six boards at once was the back garden, so with the forecast promising dry weather I borrowed the trestles from Walmer Bridge and set it all up. The track plan was more-or-less laid to the original tentative design, with some cutting and pasting of the shorter sections of track to use all of it as efficiently as possible.

 

Planning the scenery

With the complete layout laid out in the spring sunshine, the amount of scenery required to fill it became disturbingly apparent. Fortunately the Pendle portfolio of architectural designs gives plenty of buildings to choose from. My initial selection was a touch ambitious - as Mike pointed out smaller buildings might not only fit better but also look more appropriate. So I tried again, this time with cardboard rectangles to show where each building might go.

 

As to the rest of the space, after more thought and more Kentish brewery products I came up with a couple of ideas. One was a small wagon scrap yard/repair yard, where time-expired narrow-gauge rolling stock meets its maker, or rather its undertaker. As we know, most small-scale locos and wagons lie where they fall, slowly dissolving back into the iron ore deposits from which they were formed. However there is a modest trade to be had in repairing, refurbishing and recycling such time-expired railway items. A prime operator in this specialised field is Sidney Smith, alias Sid the Scrapper, a one-time welterweight boxer from the murkier side of East London’s sporting life. Once retired from pugilism, Sid set up his business with the aid of his modest winnings, an out-of-court settlement with his ex-manager and a couple of dodgy deals with a local councillor. He now happily spends his time with blowtorch and welding set, applying a piercingly-realistic judgement to what can be renovated or repaired, and what is only fit for recycling.

 

It was similar to a plan I had contrived many years ago as a micro layout. ‘Scrapper Sid’s’ secured a place on the late Carl Arendt’s admirable Small Layout Scrapbook website, but never got built. Now was its time, and if ever my baker’s tray No.3 (Rolling Stock Bits) needed decluttering, now was its time also. As it happened I also had several suitable wagons, one with a load consisting of a small disassembled diesel and another with a working pump, surely something any scrappie would find useful.

 

The second idea came from one of the more recent sleeper trips organised by Southport Model Railway Society. This included a visit to the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway (as well as the Glasgow-Euston sleeper, the Edinburgh tram system, the Parisian Metro and the inside of a submarine, you will be bemused to learn). Now the southern terminus of the RH&DR has an atmosphere of slightly decayed weirdness. It’s an artisan community in small low-rise houses (some being railway coach conversions) on a shingle beach in somewhat incongruous proximity to matching pairs of nuclear power stations and lighthouses. The two keywords were ‘railway’ and ‘beach’ - perhaps a coastal theme might work? Just up the coast had been the four collieries making up the Kent coalfield, now defunct and almost completely vanished from the scenery which played host to my formative years. All the pits had railways of one sort or another, and it would not be too much of a literary leap to imagine them connected together by a line that conveyed passengers as well as coal.

 

If nothing else a beach would provide some underlying texture, so I set to work to cover the whole layout with coarse sand. This took longer than originally thought, as two layers were needed, showers had to be avoided and nightfall required the boards to be put back in the shed vertically, and not always after the glue had dried. The viewing side of the layout was then embellished with a selection of flotsam and jetsam, including shell fragments and driftwood, with scale vegetation and rocks, both artificial and real. Knowing when to stop is a key skill here, so I just carried on until I’d had enough.

 

Early trials

At this stage the first show milestone was fast approaching - the Woodvale Rally. This is held every year in Southport’s Victoria Park, and features a railway marquee for layouts, demonstrations and sales. Its origins were as a model aircraft show at RAF Woodvale just down the road, but the discovery of buried asbestos enforced a move to a smaller and less flyer-friendly venue. However the rally has survived, and is a useful opportunity to stress-test layouts over a full weekend, before exposing them to the unforgiving stare of your fellow-modellers at a proper exhibition. (Incidentally, the asbestos came from demolished WWII prefabs, and was unearthed by moles. It cannot be long before some enterprising lawyer is in court claiming damages from the MoD for wheezy subterranean mammals).

 

Some hasty ballasting was carried out using some slightly-over-scale and somewhat miscellaneous grit, and the Walmer Bridge goody box was raided for various scenic items, including a fair number of pottery people. I also borrowed some buildings, as Mike’s kits were still in the casting stage and anyway there was little time to build and paint them, particularly as I wanted to do at least that part of the layout properly.

 

Whist building the layout I considered sporadically how best to transport it. It was too big to fit in my existing trailer, which was also showing signs of wood rot. It would fit in the back of the car - just - but leave little room for anything else. So on the Thursday before Woodvale I did the decent thing and invested a not insignificant sum of money in a shiny new all-metal trailer, complete with side extensions, and almost as much again in a detachable towbar. As an aside, I have never considered the latter item as an indispensable part of motoring, but the sales assistant was persuasive on its benefits over the fixed variety, citing matters such as increased security, no ugly protrusions at the rear, and crucially no manic beeping from a reverse alarm convinced that the towball was part of the external environment that I was about to collide with.

 

The weekend dawned cool but dry (all-important for a tent-based event) and, with the help of several members of the local 16mm group, the layout was erected without too much difficulty, with only minor problems caused by undulating greensward. As predicted, the turntables were a touch unpredictable - sometimes they worked smoothly, other times they did not. A certain flexing of the transverse supports was identified, caused by higher than expected loads from the larger type of Roundhouse diesel, amongst others. Some variation in the radius of one of the guide rails was also noted. However after a certain amount of impromptu adjustment, and the fitting of more point levers to prevent uncovenanted movement of second-hand point blades, all went reasonably well. At least it looked like a working layout, despite not risking live steam until right at the end of the first day, and with a fairly lightweight railcar at that. Perhaps fortuitously the radio-control batteries expired on the unit just as steam was raised, despite being part of the pre-ignition checklist assiduously carried out by the owner.

 

However it was clear that more engineering effort was required on the turntables, and during the weekend various ideas surfaced. Someone suggested ball-bearing rotational devices of the ‘Lazy Susan’ type, and I remembered I had a small example of such an item as part of a steam-up table. A quick search of eBay revealed that 12” diameter versions were available, and a pair were promptly purchased, along with a roll of hessian for a baseboard skirt. A visit to the West Lancs secured retrospective approval for the purchases to be at their expense, along with six thicker battens from Alan’s wood store for the turntable supports. Back home the wood was screwed in place, the bearings secured on top and the turntable plank on top of that. The bogies were replaced with wooden blocks fitted with plasticard sheet underneath to slide on the turntable rails - no more derailments!

 

Some cautious testing suggested a significant improvement in reliability and smoothness of operation, to the extent that I felt justified in turning my attention back to the scenery. This meant puddles and more rocks on the seaward side, made of varnish and cement respectively, the latter formed using a set of small plastic moulds. The scrapyard gained a small office, the essential corrugated iron convenience, a crane and a myriad of bits and pieces that collectors of railwayana would give good money for. And Sid ensures they do.

 

The next outing was the West Lancs summer gala. This was a two-day event involving three locos in steam, several small diesels hauling freight trains, a funfair and, in the engine shed, a Meccano display and the new, improved Middleforth. It ran much better this time, even with relatively heavy steam engines, and no untoward events occurred, which was a relief. As expected, the operators' workload was significantly heavier than with a round-and-round, two drivers being the absolute minimum,with both almost continuously busy with turntable operation. ‘Why not make them electric, or at least indexed?’ I hear you say, with my response making reference again to proper engineering, and the lack of it anywhere near my man-shed.

 

A real exhibition

Later in the year was its first exhibition, hosted by Southport MRS. This time a different set of buildings were used, a dozen or so Welshpool Pottery kits that had also belonged to Derek Preece, but which he had never made up. Again we benefitted from Mrs Preece's generosity, and I spent many happy hours in the shed assembling and painting them. In due course they will feature as the resident scenery on Hundred End. Generally the layout ran well, although a few problems with the track showed themselves, which I blamed on the speed bumps in and around the venue making the trailer bounce excessively, even at slow speed.

​

And talking of slow speed, one of the challenges of this type of layout is controlling the live steam locos. This requires some concentration, not to mention a continuously updated knowledge of where the end of the layout is with respect to the advancing engine. A look through the current 16mm magazine reminded me of the Slo-mo device developed by Terry Robinson, initially to make better use of the modest amount of track space in his garden. Ideal for Middleforth I thought, if only I was brave enough to try fitting the device to one of my engines. Reading the description of the device and watching the installation video convinced me that I (probably) was, so an order was placed for one to fit my Class B.

 

A fortnight later it arrived from Australia, fortunately without arousing the interest of HM Revenue & Customs in its passage through UK tax-space. After a careful re-watching of the video I took the plunge, or rather the screwdriver, to the soft underbelly of Queen of the Hills. Much to my relief, the installation was straightforward, although the sight of delicate valve gear flopping about on the workbench was more than a little alarming. With everything back on the loco again I tried it out in the garden on a damp and windy November day. The difference in control was remarkable, particularly after I remedied a loose chain sprocket on the driven axle. The loco could really crawl - no excuse now for hitting the Middleforth end-stops! A second order was promptly sent southwards for equipping my Roundhouse Jack 'Marazion' with a similar device.

 

The major test

By December 2015 Mike Lowe’s production line had turned out many of the buildings on my list, so the festive season was spent most usefully in converting kits into finished articles. The big event was fast approaching, the 2016 Peterborough show. Paul Kidger had kindly acceded to my plea for a pitch next to the Pendle Valley sales stand, the layout had been fettled and the rolling stock polished, or at least dusted, so there was no excuse not to turn in a decent performance. As in previous years, a convoy of cars headed south and east from Southport via the A50 and the essential brunch stop at the Little Chef, just short of Catterick. There one of our number discovered how to improve a (very) full English - just add an 8oz steak and never mind the cholesterol, the customer in question is fully qualified in medical matters.

 

The organisation of the show has improved with experience, and is now relatively pain-free, thanks to a lot of hard work by many people (but please get a proper PA system, or do without one at all…). The set-up went smoothly and we retired to our B&B cottages in picturesque Braunston-in-Rutland - no Holiday Inns for the Middleforth team! One of our number has a cottage there (available for well-behaved stag parties and bar-mitzvahs) so local knowledge was put to good use in the selection of food menus and real-ale suppliers.

 

On The Big Day my layout slaves did their stuff uncomplainingly and a good time was had by all, with a number of nice things said about the layout, for which I modestly took full credit. Pleasingly, nothing important fell off or broke, and the locos behaved themselves, particularly those modified with the Slo-mo. Mike Lowe reported good business on the Pendle Valley stand, so our antics next door hadn’t put off too many potential purchasers. The main disadvantage was the lack of time to have a proper look at the rest of the show’s offerings, particularly as we were one or two down on our optimum staffing level. So come 5pm the wallet was less empty than it might otherwise have been, although the image of the new Roundhouse Darjeeling diesel is slowly burning its way from retina to credit card….

 

I have mixed feelings about one-day shows - it’s a lot of effort for a few hours of exhibiting or trading, although I can understand the problems of economics and organisation that a longer event would entail. As it was, I was back home on the Sunday in time to spend an hour to so at the West Lancs Friendly Engines Day, taking photos for the website. Not quite multi-tasking, but probably as near as I’ll get at my time of life.

 

Since then the layout has been exhibited at several local events, and like a good claret, has slowly improved with age. Extensive labelling of scenic items, their place on the layout, and their storage boxes has reduced set-up and take-down times, and improved the percentage of items returned to their rightful place afterwards. The small band of faithful helpers have also been subtly trained, unbeknownst to them, in the art of Middleforth Management, and are now fully-qualified in its operation, whatever they might say to the contrary. As someone probably famous once said, without their help I’d just have to get somebody else. I’m fortunate in not having to.

​

​

​

​