Page 18 - July August 2010

Road and rail in 1983
Before we take a look at the main station within walking distance of the Palace Hotel (and the coal dock), how did I come to select Mission City CPR depot for the prototype? Good question, and it is part of a story worth relating.
In July 1983 I hired a car at Vancouver Airport, and drove it up and down the North Arm of the Fraser River on Lulu Island, to see if it had any nasty little tricks to play on me. For once, I seemed to have got a really nice car in perfect condition. So I set off in fine weather and made it to Boston Bar in time for lunch. Then I stopped to take pictures of the succession of avalanche shelters on the CNR at Skoonka, and got behind schedule.
As I didn’t want to find the hotel full, I “stepped on the gas” a bit and overtook a plain grey saloon car. It immediately sprouted bells, horn and flashing lights, and a very big, tough looking “Mountie” asked to see my driving licence. He said he’d never seen one like mine before but as I was obviously from out of the country he’d give me a break. He pointed to a sign with an “80” on it and explained that it meant kilometres, not miles an hour. I said I was glad he’d told me that, and got away with it. Next problem was the hotel map was printed upside down in the guide book so I was looking on the wrong side of the street for it. That sorted out, I had supper, a walk round, and bed.
Next morning I was surprised to see The Canadian in Kamloops station, which it should have left in the early hours. There had been a cloudburst in the Selkirks which had washed away miles of CPR main line, as well as part of a highway bridge. It took the CPR seven days to build six miles of new track and the Army ten days to repair the bridge. Both were criticised for taking so long! Leaving Salmon Arm, I was flagged down by a burly lady in a yellow hard hat, who told me to watch my step at Three Valley Gap where there were “rocks on the road”.
At Revelstoke it was pitch black at 3 pm and the streets were deep in water. The hotel receptionist said she hadn’t expected to see anybody but I explained that we were used to a bit of rain back home in the “Old Country”. Next day I drove over logging roads through forests to reach a ferry berth on the Upper Arrow Lake. The ferry took me across to the far side for a long drive to Nakusp, then over the Selkirk Range to Kaslo where an 1898 sternwheel steamer is preserved, and on to Cranbrook on the Crowsnest Highway. But Cranbrook was full to bursting with extra traffic and they had no food, drink, gasoline, change or beds.
I drove on to Kimberley where they were having a Sommerfest with German brass bands and Schuhplatter dancing etc. I got the last bed but was kept awake by bands playing “Oompah!” outside my room.
Next day I visited Fort Steele where a Shay was operating and returned to Kimberley to find the place deserted. A cloudburst had driven away all the brass bands and visitors for another year. When I finally got to Calgary Airport the check-in girl said, “Gee! This car’s come all the way from Vancouver, but it hasn’t got a Scraaaatch on it!!!”
W A Corkill
At Winnipeg I attended the NMRA Annual Convention, and met the proprietors of Van Hobbies, CDS Lettering and Nickel Belt Rails. An 1882 vintage 4-4-0 (much rebuilt but still the oldest CPR locomotive still working) pulled the Prairie Dog Central train to Grosse Isle on a CNR branch, and then I flew on to Ottawa where I wore my Trainman’s hat which I had got in Vancouver. As soon as they saw it, a group of French Canadian student museum guides made a bee-line for me and asked if I could answer their questions in French. A model of the Titanic sinking was labelled “Titanic sinking” and a mighty CPR K1a class 4-8-4 was labelled “Keep Off”, so I had some explaining to do!
When I got home I sorted through pictures I’d taken of old wooden station buildings and I decided that the one at Mission City on the main line east of Vancouver was the most interesting, but not an easy one to make a model of. I cheated a bit by buying a few Kanamodel kits which had doors and windows about the right sizes and shapes, and looked forward to the time when I could make a start.
I can’t resist the temptation to add a note about my 1994 trip. I started at New York City where I had to walk down a menacing street to catch an “out of state” bus to Scranton, Pa. It was a long journey with a woman who kept moaning about the way she didn’t like Pennsylvania and wanted to go back to “Noo Jersey”.
At Scranton there were no taxis since they were all booked up taking kids to and from school and their Moms to have their hair done. I had to walk around to find a hotel where, by the way, they had never heard of anywhere called “Steamtown”. Next day I found the place and waited for a Parks Warden to come and let me in. Nobody did, so I wandered round and admired a “Big Boy” but not the $60 million buildings which were more like a sanatorium than a roundhouse. No smoke, steam, oil, bits of rope or chains, nothing remotely like a railroad establishment!
I flew on to Toronto, taking off in fog and landing in a snowstorm – in June! In the night fire alarms went off and everybody had to stand outside admiring City of Etobicoke fire trucks. It was a false alarm.
Next day it was bitterly cold so I wore my warmest clothes. By lunchtime the temperature was over 80 degrees F. Next day at Midland, on Georgian Bay, I wore my lightest summer clothes and went to a model railway show in the ice rink, where the heaters weren’t working. We all jumped up and down to keep from freezing. After that I gave a mosquito a lift in my car to Peterborough where it was in thick fog. I was told I would never get past Toronto in the rush hour, but I did so and got lost in Hamilton where the hotel had forgotten to switch on its neon signs.
Last day, I left Niagara Hobbies at St Catherines in a terrific thunderstorm off Lake Ontario and took country by-ways back to Toronto Airport. Why don’t I have uneventful trips like the ones people write about in Roundhouse?
Obituary – Mark Birtles 1961–2010
It is with great regret and sadness that we have to announce the sudden and untimely death, on 25 June, of Mark Birtles. Birtie, as he was known to all, was a longstanding and active member of the NMRA Black Diamonds N-scale Group.
He had a passionate enthusiasm for the D&RGW standard gauge, having a huge collection of models of the entire diesel era (no kettles), and for the Ford Mondeo – he had a brace of hi-spec diesels! He also had two addictions, North American unit coal trains and Coca Cola.
He was always ready to provide (very rapid) transport to and from meets and exhibitions and to help put up and take
down our modular setups, especially helping the short- sighted elderly in dealing with rail joiners. He also contributed to the module production team once he had mastered the adage measure twice cut once!
Many members also appreciated his ready and willing assistance in fitting chips into locos and in getting awkward locos running smoothly. Birtie, with his 100 car coal trains (every car differently and correctly numbered), will be greatly missed by all.
George Lamb
18 ROUNDHOUSE