Pixie

Thanks Chris! For the decade or so that I was talking about building Parkend I wondered if one day I'd open up a magazine and the model I'd hoped to build looking back at me. Indeed, even Neil Parkhouse remarks upon his surprise that nobody has built a model of the Marsh Sidings in his book on the Forest's railways. As it happens, ParkeNd has also built an excellent model of Parkend (http://www.rmweb.co.uk/community/index.php?/topic/95699-parkend-in-forest-of-dean-n-gauge/page-1 - Sadly, the Photobucket issue has lost all the photographs) so my model is certainly not unique! A little rolling stock modelling has taken place this week - primarily on mundane fleet stock for the layout, rather than a weird and wonderful offshoot. Firstly a few more Harris' 16T minerals have been painted and weathered - a lot of those that have previously been heavily weathered so I'm trying to do a few more that are less scabby. A couple of oddities - one of the heavy duty buffer and clasp brakes unfitted examples. A trio of rivetted 16Ts from Ian Morgan (Wageni on Shapeways) - they're 3D printed bodies on Harris chassis'. I'm quite pleased with these, I'm impressed that the rivets have printed so well. And last, but certainly not least, I've finally put the lettering and weathering on the rake of Herrings. These really are the signature wagon for the Forest of Dean in the era modelled and I'm indebted to Bryn for designing the etch they're built from. They were born out of an ale-fueled 'If you design me a Herring, I'll build Parkend in 2mm' conversation almost a decade ago. The rest, as they say, is history. On the subject on of history, I realised today that it's now been 15 years since the publication of the Model Rail issue (July 2002) that contained the handful of Bill Potter photographs which triggered the interest in Parkend. I'm not sure what's more worrying; the fact I've spent over half my life on a 8' train set or that, even after a decade-and-a-half, I'm still putting off building the buildings! Cheers, Pix

Excuse my shabby doodling, but the area in red is more-or-less the area covered by my model. The DFR station is on the far right, the spur off to the Marsh Sidings started just before the station throat/footbridge, curved over the road and then passed in front of the Fountain Inn. Sadly, I couldn't quite get the pub on my layout! Comparing the below to the above, you can see there's a little compression between the buildings but not by much. In non-2mm news, I recently received the below in the post from British Heritage Models - to say I'm impressed would be the understatement of the decade, it's beautiful! The finish, particularly considering it's hand built, has a real depth to it. What I'd give to have a range of mundane 2mm scale cars to a similar standard! My only gripe is it's not orange... yet. Cheers, Steve

Thanks Andy - I'll drop you a PM this evening to clarify! Apologies - indeed, in 1/152 but I'm looking at 1067mm gauge in 1/150. Cheers, Steve

A curveball question - do entries have to be 9.42mm gauge?! I've been looking for an excuse to build a model of a meter gauge prototype and this could be an ideal opportunity. The idea is to use Association track standards (flangeways, wheel standards, etc) but the gauge slimed from 9.42mm to 7.11mm. Steve

Thanks all for the comments and feedback. I certainly concur that getting the transition from model to backscene is difficult, particularly trying to match the colours and tones of the 3D modelling with a 2D photograph. I think one the biggest problems, and something particularly valid in 2mm, is what perspective the back scene should be taken from - looking at photographs taken at Parkend from street level, there's not much beyond a few trees on show in the background. If you look at those taken from Parkend station's footbridge, you start to notice a few tree lined hills in the background. When viewing the model, even though the track is around 54'' from the floor, my eye is still a further 16'' above that and if standing 2' back (which is about right for an exhibition) it scales out to being on a 200' tall cherry picker on the Oakwood Brook. Whilst it would be possible to hire a cherry picker and take a panoramic photo, would the results look right when applied to the model as the eye is used to seeing photographs from street level? It's an interesting debate. Anyway, various experiments have taken place with a couple of off-the-shelf back scenes. One thing that has become apparent is the power the back scene has to move the whole location of the model from one part of the country to another. The second attempt instantly moved the layout from the Yorkshire Dales to East Anglia. However it was rapidly binned for being the wrong colour and setting. A bit miffed with the lack of colour match, I then tried trimming down the original back scene to make something less mountainous. It's certainly better, but the context just doesn't sit right when comparing it to photos. (I think there's a life lesson here - model somewhere imaginary, at least you can go with what looks goods rather than trying to find something that looks good and accurate!) After various other attempts, including a few that aren't even worthy of a photograph, I think the best answer is something like Paul's superb example (I d'off my cap Paul to your work there - it flows beautifully with the fore-scene). A relatively muted background to give a tree-line impression gives just the right balance of 'long-distance' view when standing a couple of feet back and looks about right with the eye at rail level. To be honest, it's probably not an accurate representation of either, but is subtle enough to force the eye to look a the layout rather than the backscene. The colour tone and hue isn't right, but I like the effect is has in the below photos. It's the first one that's look Forest of Dean-y. A custom print of something along these lines is probably where I'll end up. PS - My apologies for the delay in coming back. Some friends and I spent a week blasting around Britain by HST. Perhaps I should model the Highland mainline next, there's certainly no doubting the back scene there! Cheers, Steve

Hello all, Last weekend saw Parkend escape from the workshop and appear at a friend's annual trains/cricket/barbecue/ale-athon. Whilst it's primarily a social, it was a good excuse to test out packing and transporting the layout before having to do it 'for real' at an exhibition. It also provided the impetus to finish the dull tasks of finishing the packing crates, tool box, layout curtain and, most importantly, beverage holders that I've been putting off for so long. I'm pleased to say it went well and the resulting snagging list isn't huge - it's mostly refinement, rather than major reworks. One area that was highlighted as a bit weak was the backscene, for the last few years it's been little more than a coat of light blue and some greeny/brown card representing hills or trees. I've always a been of the logic that less is more with backscenes; the mind filling in any blanks however I was encouraged to take a look at photo backscenes. Trying out a roll of photo backscene I had to hand, I'm amazed at how it lifts and transforms the layout. It makes the old attempt look clinical and almost 2D; the depth it adds is brilliant. The below isn't the final version; it's a little too like the Yorkshire Dales and not enough of the Forest of Dean, however I have a few more variations on order that should combine to make something 'foresty'. I'm blown away by the difference it makes! In other news, I'm also the proud owner of a Silhouette cutter and a big pile of plasticard. It seems I've finally run out of excuses not to building Parkend's buildings... Cheers, Pix

I'll have a sportsman the bottom one is the 'Parcels Express' maroon GUV - it was released for Modelzone in 4mm a few years back IIRC. Pix

And in the blink of an eye, Photobucket has locked all my images. Although I can magically make them reappear for $400... Bah. I'll work on a solution in the next few weeks, but apologies in the mean time. Pix

Thanks all for the kind words. I concur that cleaning up the rails after weathering is a bit of a drag; I've found that after an initial clean it's really down to carefully watching stock as it shunts around for any defects. One tip I can offer - a beard trimmer is an excellent tool to bring static grass below rail height and coax out any fibers that the glue hasn't quite grabbed. I was very nervous about using static grass within the four-foot but after 18 months of service I've not had any fibers end up in mechanisms. You do get some strange looks and, oddly, "I'm shaving my layout" doesn't seem to be reasonable explanation when family members question what you're doing. No sweat Jeremy, more than happy to advise. I'm loving Euston by the way - the quality and pace you're working at is amazing! I use MIG Powders; namely Vietnam Earth (P031), Russian Earth (P034) and Volcanic Sand (P040). When weathering the track, I start off by airbushing the ballasted track with Railmatch Sleeper grime to act as a basis. I then paint the rails with slurry of Humbrol 29 (usually by picking out the sludge from the bottom of the tinlet), Vietnam Earth powder and Russian Earth powders. I mix the powders and paint together before application as it gives a very opaque, very matt and very dense finished. Sometimes a drop of thinners is needed to make it spread nicely. The below isn't the colours mentioned but show the principle. Once the rails have dried I give everything a very thin wash of Humbrol 29 and Volcanic Sand powders to tie it all together. Then it's just a good coating of scrubby static grass, coloured with Humbrol 150. I'm still plodding on with small details for the layout when time allows - in an idle moment this afternoon I glazed and weathered some greenhouses. Hardly an epic piece of model architecture but I was pleased with the effect Testor's Dullcote had on the glass. The time-travelling Cavalier has also been replaced with a more period Mini, inspired a friend's recent purchase. As Ryan's Mini is product of the 1990's, the one on Parkend is more of a 'nod-to' rather than a precise recreation. Aren't these just the cutest cars in the world?! Cheers, Pix

This week, I've been weathering track work on Parkend. Firstly a little scatter and static grass for weeds, then painting the rail sides with a slurry of Humbrol 29 and weathering powders, and finally a wash of thinners, weathering powders and a little Humbrol 33 to tie it all together. If I ever have to paint another rail side it'll be too soon. Pix

Thanks all for the kind comments folks. Been plugging away with the 'gardening' again this weekend; not quite got around to glazing the greenhouses yet though. Sadly I can't take any real credit for that; it's ready-to-plonk, laser-cut stuff from Ancorton Models. The supply seems a bit sporadic but it's great. Well, a few bits have met their real-world brothers already! Someday I plan to take it down to Parkend itself and set it up on the wharf; I guess if I'm ever carting the layout to an exhibition in that part of the world it'd be logical to combine the two. The other option would be to rent the cottage shown above for a weekend - http://www.wyedeantourism.co.uk/discover/Accommodation/i-4018-1_Hazeldene . It'd be slightly surreal to set up a layout within one of the buildings modelled! Pix

Evening all, A trip to Railex was in the offering this weekend; an ever reliable show to give the mojo a boost and for having a good number of familiar faces present. Whilst at the exhibition, our friendly Chairman commented that I'd been a little quiet of late and, indeed, I have. To be honest, there's not been much progress of late. After the big push at Christmas, modelling has taken a bit of a back seat to work, going down the pub and car tinkering. Plus there's a girl on the scene, which is probably explains a lot. It's not been a completely baron few months however. A few hours here and there have seen more detail being put onto Parkend; as well as generally trying to tie everything together with a coat of grime and some shabby greenery. It's satisfying as the individual components start to blend into a uniform scene, although there's the ominous lack of any buildings still. This year will be there I get around to them. Below is a few pictures of various little scenes. They're hardly groundbreaking, but gives the layout a little life. The garden in the central cottage is becoming increasingly overgrown. The owner seems to have acquired a feline friend too. Adding a muddy border and some scrubby grass has merged the country lanes into the walls nicely. I can thoroughly recommend Gordon Gravett's book on the subject. Little patches of detritus are starting to appear here... ...there... ...and everywhere. I've been very impressed by the Severn Models range of etches details. Whilst the greenhouses are good, but the furniture etch is simply brilliant. Sadly, I don't think I'll be able to justify the full kitchen that comes with the kit but the dressing table makes a believable lorry load. It'll help distract the eye from the fiddle yard hole too! Truth be told, I love this stage of layout building. I had hoped that by now Parkend would of had its first exhibition outing to the German Railway Society's GlobalRail show, but sadly I had to drop out due to a family commitment (Happy 60th, Mum). I'm now tentatively looking to taking it to a local show in 2018 if an invite comes this way; I think this winter should get it to a presentable state. I do also intend on giving Parkend a dedicated thread; I've not really told much of the story so far. I'm just trying to work out which part of the forum such a thread should go in! Cheers, Pix

BcnPete recommend to me the KR Multicase for lugging stick around safely; it's great. It contains three foam trays, each with a solid base and carry handles. Two had 7 rows (which are about the right height for minerals,hoppers and opens on their sides) which you can fit around 40 wagons in, then the other has 6 rows (which can hold locos, coaches and vans on their sides). It's got enough stock to keep Parkend busy for a weekend of operation. Usual disclaimer. Cheers, Pix

Not a problem Steve - the layout is always up! That said; it's in a thing room so it's quite hard to get far enough back to get a decent shot. The below two show a fairly basic overview - the viewing window is fairly small to try and focus the eye on it. The layout it still a little barren at the moment, I'm slowly adding lots of weeds and details. Please excuse the paper buildings too; I really need to build the real thing! A slightly different angle! The below screen grab from Google Earth should put it into context of the real place. The above photograph was taken from the right hand side of the Google Earth grab; you can still make out the scar in the trees where the headshunt went. The U-shipped bungalow is still there, as is the other three cottages. There's a few new-builds there now too. We'll have to agree to disagree there Simon - you've done a lovely job and tackled a much hard livery! Mine is missing the window frames, door hinges, handles... D1047 in BSYP is on my list too Jerry; we'll have to compare To-Do lists sometime! With the last few Warships almost finished, I was hoping 2017 would be the Year of the Western with a mainline run behind D1015 booked and the mojo raging. However, Champion has writing off its B-engine might be a bad omen for the initiative! I did get my prototype Western up and running over Christmas however. Given the car content of this thread, there's no prizes for which one this will be. Just got to work out the rest of 'em, all were picked up as non-runners/faulty/deformed over the last few years. Will we see one on Copenhagen Fields? I'd certainly like to visit the Zeppelin Museum at Friedrichshafen one day; it's a form of transport I'll probably never sample. I think you're right on the issues raised Chris. I wonder if Dapol's profile bulges out a little too much as the bottom; it's quite a subtle shape really. It's strange how some models just don't quite nail it whilst others capture the look perfectly - I've got a Bachmann 4mm SECR C that looks so right from all angles, whilst the Dapol 121 is a runt of the litter. After the 25/3, the 116/117 family is the biggest 2mm gap for me. Perhaps Bachmann will scale down their 4mm in the depths of time. BTW - Is there any development on the resin Pullman coaches? I'm still keen for a couple of it goes ahead. Cheers, Pix

Hello all, Another new year and another festive modelling binge. I have achieved two things this break - I've applied a lot of transfers and I've drunk a lot wine. Never simultaneously, but usually the latter as a reward to ploughing through the former. I do like most red wines, but this is by far the best I've had this Christmas - thoroughly recommended for a mid-bodied red. Most of the things I've been sticking transfers on have been sat around for several years collecting dust, so it's nice to see them trundling around the layout at long last. All have been 2mm'ed and DCC'ed, but I need to sort the handrails and windscreen wipers on them. I imagine that'll happen Christmas 2017. First up, some Parkend stalwarts. All four are remotored and repainted Dapol examples, representing most of the liveries that the class carried. It's been quite tricky to find D6300s on the branch which can be modelled from the Dapol basis, most Forest visitors seemingly being D6333 onwards, but all four of the below are likely to have made an appearance at some point. I'm pleased with D6327; blue with small yellows is a groovy look. D6319 is also coming along and currently awaits final fitting out. It appeared in the forest whilst in green but I don't think it ever made it there in blue. However, as 'the one that got away', having been very nearly being preserved, I felt compelled to model it. Besides, it's my train set and all that. 5826 is a definite Parkend machine, having been photographed on a ballast train at Lydney. The Farish model is really nice, but the factory applied yellow ends are very anaemic in colour. They were given a quick respray of a deeper shade which transforms the look. 5142 is ready to go too - I've guess at a couple of headcodes that would have put it into the Gloucester area before being commandeered for a Parkend trip working. It looks at home on the layout, even if it's a bit dubious. Just before Christmas a short price of grainy footage turned up on YouTube of a Hymek shunting at Parkend station - a holy grail that instantly required a model to be made. Sadly, I couldn't make out the number so decided to go for D7017. However subsequent digging about has revealed I should have modelled D7043. Like the NBLs, it's a Dapol model with a rebuilt chassis, repaint and a bit of tweaking. The handrails need some love at the front. The windscreens had some seriously weird shaped wipers moulded on so they were shaved off and the panes carefully polished up again. It seems to have worked out well, just need to put some etched ones on. Another Parkend thoroughbred; a Tysely Met Cam set. This was the one and only ever passenger train to work to the Marsh Sidings; there should be another three car set but my cassettes aren't long enough. I need to produce the headboards when I get a moment. Whilst on the subject of Met Cams; a few years ago, I bought a pair of 'rustic' Farish 101 bodies from eBay. Understandably they didn't receive too many bids and I managed to score them for a fiver delivered. I'd hoped that under all the paint and vinyls that they would be structurally unmolested; however a dunk in stripper showed otherwise. I thought they were a lost cause but with some careful cutting it was just about possible to turn them into a TBSL. I have to admit, I'm quite proud of the end result these have become. The TBSL has been dropped into a partially repainted Farish 108, based on a photo from John Turner's Flickr page. At this juncture we start to drift dangerously away from Parkend stock and things that fall into the "cos I like 'em" category.... Whilst in a DMU mood; route-learner DB975023 has been finished. This got everywhere on the WR it seems. This started out as a Dapol model of DB975023, before being stripped to lose Dapol's weird shade of BR blue and repainting into the same livery and number. There's something about the shape of the Dapol Bubble Car that just doesn't quite sit right but I can't put my finger on it. A pair of Toton choppers are nearly ready for service. They were picked up off eBay for a fair price from a seller in Taiwan. I think they're factory seconds but as the basis for a project I'm happy with them. Same seller also lists Farish 31s for respectable £50 from time to time; it's worth keeping an eye out. A trio of Warships next; all based on the Farish model with a repainted and various details around the bogies and ends. D861 is notable as the first NBL I've modelled and the last Warship to carry MSYP in service; conveniently the prototype carried Swindon roof grilles to make it an easy project. Finally; the first of the resin bodied Warships has been finished off as 810. I even managed to get a few plane kits finished off; some look a little out of place in the layout.... ...whilst others look surprisingly at home. Phew; that was a bit of a lengthy post. Apologies for the photo-heavy, poorly-written style; it's hard to be lyrical about lots of similar project as being completed! I hope all your 2017's have started well. Cheers, Pix

Ah, both excellent points but not helped by the fact I don't currently own greyhound, dead nor alive. I'm certainly not in a position to take on a live one (sadly) and I think a stuffed one would give me the creeps after a time. Maybe I should place an advert in the local paper? WANTED: Loan of one stuffed greyhound for laser scanning and Jetsons-style miniaturisation. Would also consider narcoleptic, living Greyhound. Call 07791 123456 after 6pm. I'm sure such as an advert would make someone smile at least. Actually, that's a good idea. Cheers! Pix

You and me both, Jerry. Sorry to have missed you at Warley by the way; I passed by your stand a couple of times but I think you must of been on your lunch break. Bath Queen Square is looking seriously impressive; that backscene with the viaduct just looks so right. We'll have to dieselise it sometime... Yes, you could say that. All in good time. They have a certain charm David - I think it's fair to say they're of their time! That's an absolute beauty Mark - well spotted! Given your location, I wonder if it's owned by the same guy with this one - http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/1969-VAUXHALL-VIVA-HB-SL-2-DOOR-SILVER-GENUINE-42-460-Miles-AMAZING-CONDITION-/191849269965?nma=true&si=P5lKRyK81B5KeNmIVkCPZG3NlSE%253D&orig_cvip=true&rt=nc&_trksid=p2047675.l2557? If I wasn't tinkering around with Cavaliers then I'd be very tempted by an HB Viva. I really like the styling; especially that subtle unsweep over the rear wheels. I have got a couple of Busch Opel Rekords that I may try to carve into an Viva at some point but I still live in the hope that someone will do a range of 'porridge' 1960s/70s/80s cars. Readers of Cavalier Chronicles may recall that I mentioned a vision I had for my future; a point where I would consider I'd 'made it'. My little place in the country - where I can tinker with the Cav, have a little veg patch, let the greyhounds roam free, a corner for a couple of hens, the kids can play on the lawn and Akiko and I have a spot of lunch in good weather. It'll be a rustic place, rather than utterly pristine. In reality, this vision is many, many years off. However, in my little 2mm kingdom I'm almost there... However, I'd like to throw down a gauntlet. The one thing I'm missing is a model of a greyhound - Presier and the like don't list them, I'm not sure I could get one to stand still for long enough to be 3D scanned and my carving abilities are pants. So; I offer a bottle of the finest Argentian Malbec to anyone who can provide me with an 2mm greyhound in a decent, natural pose. Pix

Thanks Richard. I was idely wondering they could be used in the Western which has bearings of a 3.7mm OD, although I'm not sure with which wheels. My Solloway'ed examples can tide me over for now. Pix

Thanks to the nice guys at Finney7; I'm now the proud owner of a West Country kit. It's lovely - the quality of kit is beyond anything else I've seen before. Really sharp castings, thorough instructions and enough etchings to keep me quiet for a decade or so. The main moulding does look a bit like a model of Glatonbury's Pyramid stage in 2mm mind. Pix

Hi all, Does anyone have the dimensions of the Association bearings for the Dapol Britannia and Pannier (3-225 and 3-226) please? Cheers, Pix

Right, enough about Cavaliers for a moment. Modelling seasons is upon us! BcnPete, Bryn and I met up for an fry up at Kings Cross on Sunday before heading down to the MRC Club Room for a good look at the S scale show and Copenhagen Fields. Whilst we were there we gave some stock a good outing around their test track. This was very much appreciated; most of my stock only ever shuffles a few feet up and down the layout. We headed over the St. Pancras afterwards for a pint. I wonder when one of these was last there? Work continues on Parkend - mostly tidying up areas or correcting bodges that were made a while ago. I'm very pleased to say that I've now finished fitting DGs to all my stock; it's nice to be able to play trains in the evening. Cheers, Pix

Cavalier Chronicles - Part 5 - A Financial Intersection. For a brief moment, I'd like to put aside my Englishman's etiquette and talk about money. A faux pas, I know, but bear with me. When I tell people about owning a 'classic' car, the topic of expense usually arises; toned with the sincere belief that the GDP of a small country is required to support such an interest. And, to be honest, before starting this adventure I thought the same. As alluded to in the first Cavalier Chronicles; I'm from a fairly humble background. I work an averagely paid job, have a whopping student loan and really should be saving for a house deposit. I'd usually cling onto the money issue when the 'Why haven't you bought your Cavalier yet?!' topic came up down the pub, there was no way I could afford it on top of my current out goings. I'd then conveniently slipping out for a smoke to kill the conversation dead. But, therein lied the solution. For reasons only known to the 20 year old me, I started smoking when I was in my final year of university. I'm not sure if it was the stress of finals, the people I lived with at the time or a weak form of rebellion but I did. It started with an occasional fag and a pint in the evening; slowly morphing into an almost daily afternoon smoke and a cuppa and, before I knew it, my morning routine focuses around a strong coffee and a ciggie. I'm sure this progression is a very well trodden path. Graduation didn't help; entering the world of work meant I had the money to keep going and a smoke-break was a welcome few moments of calm away from my desk. I never really considered myself a smoker, I was a person who smoked. In a similar vein, I don't consider myself a cyclist but I sometimes ride a bike. This mindset somehow allowed me to convince myself that I'd avoid the plethora of issues and addiction that smoking may lead to. I'd be fine; I could quit whenever I wanted. It was only around five years into smoking the penny dropped; as a 26 year old man I shouldn't be waking up with coughing fits, watching my teeth yellow or having chest pains. I should be in my peak; not my trough. Guilt crept in too - Dad smoked for all his adult life; I used to complain daily about how he should give it up before finally, and proudly, he did just that. And yet, just a few years later there I was doing the one thing my Dad fought for so long to stop. What a tool; absolute hypocritical tool. I never told Dad I smoked; it would have crushed him with disappointment and I had zero justification for my cause. As this realisation sunk in; I decided I needed to stop. It was a part of me that needed to go. It's 5:30pm on Monday 29th June last year; it's a glorious warm evening and I've just fired up my post-work, pre-drive home smoke. A symbolic act that defines the transition from work-time to me-time; made all the better as I prepared for a jaunt to the Isle of Man. Slowly inhaling the first drag; I suddenly became aware that I received no pleasure from smoking anymore. This was an action of addiction. Without further thought I disposed of my newfound enemy, rapidly followed by the rest of the packet. This was my break; six days away from the office and my usual environs was enough break the cycle. Fuelled by will power alone, I survived the first 24 hours. Just as temptation resurfaced I found myself in a Ramsay car park, ogling the Opel Manta seen several posts up. Then it struck me; could the money saved from smoking fund my Cavalier project? It seemed unlikely - fags were only a few quid a packet; an old car is thousands. But what a source of motivation it would be! I decided that even if the cost of a Cavalier outweighed the cost of cigarettes; giving up would at least be a contribution. This was 'Fags for Fuel', 'Smokes for Spares' or, as my French speaking friend eloquently advised, 'Cesse pour caisse'! So, jumping forward to the present day, how to the numbers stack up? The Cavalier cost me £1500, which arguably is a reclaimable asset so let's put that aside for the moment. In terms of running costs; I pay £13 a week rent to house it, £124 a year to insure it, £235 to tax it (Roll on 2020 and its 'Historic' status!) and £54.85 to MOT. This means a yearly maintenance cost of £1,089.85, or £2.99 a day. That's no small sum of cash; it's a noticeable chunk of my take home salary. Especially when I should saving for a deposit. When I smoked, I got through about 10 a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less but 10 is a reasonable average. When I last checked, a pack of 20 B&H Silver (my brand of choice) was £8.74 or, rather scarily, a whopping £1,595.05 a year. When I returned from the Isle of Man, there was a round-robin email recruiting First Aiders and Fire Warden at work. Given my newfound drive for self improvement; I also signed up for both and was pleasantly surprised to find a £42.02 supplement in my monthly pay packet - a welcome boost for the Cavalier fund. Combing the cigarette and first aid money, I was £2,099.29 better off a year. Or £5.75 a day! Now, it doesn't take a genius to work out £5.75 is more than £2.99 - maintaining a Cavalier was much cheaper than smoking... and it (probably) wouldn't kill me! But, let's bring the purchase price back in. If day-by-day I was financially better off, there would come a point when not smoking would not only cover the running costs but also pay off the purchase of the car. A point of intersection, where savings (red) would overtake outlay (blue). Time for some simultaneous equations. If the number of days of not smoking is (n), at a rate of £5.75 a day, the total saved (S) is... S = n*5.75 = 5.75n Total expenditure on the Cavalier (E) is the initial outlay of £1500 plus the daily running costs of £2.99 for each day owned (D)... E = 1500 + 2.99D I'm at break even when the above two are equal, therefore... S = E or 5.75n = 1500 + 2.99D I bought the Cavalier 29 days after quitting smoking, so D = (n - 29). Subbing in gives... 5.75n = 1500 + 2.99(n - 29 = 1500 + 2.99n - 86.71 = 1413.29 + 2.99n Therefore n = 1413.29/2.76 = 512.06 days. So, 512 days after giving up I'll be at break even point. Having quit at 5:30 on 29/06/15, 512.06 days later takes us to 6:54 on 22/11/16. In other words; at five-to-seven last night, by giving up something that was slowly killing me, I can say that I'm not one penny down and yet I'm a car and 18 months of adventures up! But, best of all, I can point to the Cavalier and say that something that would have driven my old man and I apart has funded something which has brought us together. I'm not quite sure what the moral of the story is here - telling people to fund things by taking up smoking and giving it up doesn't sit too well. I'll have to mull this one over a bit.

Bah, you should have kept it. I'm glad it makes sense to someone else; I've questioned my own sanity sometimes whilst cleaning up old parts. Coincidently there's a Mk.1 and Mk.2 Escort specialist here in Bracknell; they'll sell you a whole new Mk.1 bodyshell for around £3000 - a big outlay but seems quite a good deal for a solid basis for a project. I sourced my Vactan through eBay - http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/VACTAN-RUST-CONVERTER-AND-PRIMER-1LITRE-RUST-TREATMENT-/121025597300?hash=item1c2db00f74:m:mYYpZUgj75pkU5IhpgzgyUQ. Usual disclaimer. I'll give some ACF50 a whirl! It's been good fun so far; it's certainly far simpler than I expected. The brake lights being triggered by a simple push-to-break switch on the pedal; or the simple brass washer on a float within the brake fluid cap that drops, making contact with the warning light circuit, are simple yet solid bits of engineering. One of the areas I plan to cover in the future is the difference in the engineering in a 1980 Cavalier and a 2001 Fiat Punto (my daily driver... which is also orange). The Cavalier is all nuts-and-bolts, designed for component replacement and designed to last a life time. The Punto is full of cheap pop-rivets and clips, modular replacement and evidently built to a price. It's interesting comparing the two. That'd great if it happens; when looking at the Irish Cavalier it became apparent that Irish vehicles over 30 years old don't requite an NCT. I guess there must be some kind of roadworthiness test, surely? Yep; the £235 a year is a little hard to stomach I must admit. That's a beauty, Tim. I have a fine selection, scavenged from dying Cavaliers, available. Pix

To be honest Jerry, and this may sound a little odd given the above; neither do I. Things like Formula 1 leave me cold and I've got no real connection with any super cars - I like the mundane, porridge motoring. What happened to the Spitfire in the end? I seem to recall it was mid-rewire wasn't it? That surprises me Ian; most of the running gear would have been the same as the Ascona or Manta so I'm surprised a friendly Opel dealer couldn't of sourced it. Cheers, Pix

Cavalier Chronicles - Part 4 - Getting to Know You I appreciate, dear reader, that the story so far has been a relatively personal one and as a result, save for those who were there when it happened; it may not be of particular resonance. Indeed, the past 11,000 words could really be summed up as: Man owns car. Son of man becomes nostalgic about said car. Son of man buy similar car. I feel it’s been important to set the scene but my main reason for writing these has been to document the work that goes into the project – an illustrated history of this phase of the cars life. In many respects, this is just a 305mm/ft modelling project. There’s the background research, the people you meet along the way, the ideas you share, the same useless suppliers you complain about, the joys when it works and the threats of selling it when it doesn’t. It’s worth noting that subsequent posts may not be strictly chronological, but grouped into subjects. I am trying desperately hard not to become a car bore – I’d much prefer to focus of the human elements and skills involved, as opposed to nitty-gritty technical specs. I do apologies in advance for when I drift to the nerd-zone however. The previous posts have covered my side of the story, but what about the car’s history? How has the 36 years before I turned up treated it? The paperwork I received with the car was minimal – the last two MOT certificates and the V5. That’s it. All of the below has been pieced together from internet trawling and circumstantial evidence on the car itself, however the main bulk has come from the DVLA’s records. I wasn’t previously aware of this, but the DVLA offer access to their records by request if you have suitable justification for requiring it. The service is archaic at best – you fill out a V888 form, staple a fiver to it, pop it in the post and wait. People have had differing results – some have waited 12 months and just received their form back (with DISAPPROVED in big red letters across it), whilst others have received reams of information with a week or two. It was worth a shot at least and around a month later I received a weighty envelope from Swansea. Jackpot! Flicking through the DVLA had supplied a copy of every document they had on record – from the initial registration from the dealership when new, right up to the most recent V5 with my scratchy hand writing on it. So, what’s the Cavalier’s story? It was built at Opel’s plant in Antwerp in February 1980, or at least the interior was fitted then judging by the construction ticket found under the rear passenger seat. It was approximately the 4 millionth car built at the plant and towards the end of the Cavalier production line which ceased 11 months later. Its Belgian roots probably contributed towards its survival – the grade of steel used there was notably more rust-resistant than that used by Vauxhall’s Luton plant. It was a common-or-garden 1600L Saloon base model, by far the most numerous Cavalier sold. The only pizzazz being the automatic gearbox and metallic paint - both optional extras. Indeed, the only optional extras available for this model. The 1979 brochure this car would have been picked out as was keen to point out features such as front and rear ashtrays, internal bonnet lock and, get this, flashing hazard warning lights. This was period porridge motoring at its best, even down to the porridge coloured plaid interior. After crossing the Channel, it was provided as stock for to the Jessups dealership in Milton Road, Westcliffe-On-Sea. It was registered with the DVLA on the 30th April 1980, from the Chelmsford office. The registration form is rather unlovingly signed ‘Sales Admin’. The Jessups forecourt now lives under a block of flats, however the car has retained its original dealer plates which are a nice touch. It’s first owner was a chap called John who purchase the car from Jessup’s on the 4th September 1981. One wonders if he got a good deal, considering it had been on the forecourt for almost 18 months. He lived in Benfleet, here to be precise. In late 1984, John sold the car to Windsor Auto Sales in Westcliffe-on-Sea. Perhaps he upgraded to a shiny Mk.2 Cavalier? On the 19th February 1985, it was purchased from there by a man called Glenn, by far the longest owner. I’ve tried a little searching to see if I can find any information on him, but it just brings up a link to Essex’s Police’s most wanted. Let’s hope it’s just a coincidence, eh? Glenn certainly didn’t use it much, between its 2005 and 2015 MOT it had covered less than 3500 miles according to the Certificates supplied by the DVLA. It was also assuring to see it had only failed its MOT once during this period for a duff shock absorber. This is its home during this period. Enter Dave, who appeared in the last post. He purchased the car from its long term owner on 12th March 2015. Knowing what I know now, the story he gave ties up fully with the history that’s been found. I doubt our paths will ever cross again, but if they do, I shall buy him a beer. There’s certainly no doubt that the Cavalier is an Essex machine at heart. This is where I pitch up and the rest, as they say, is history. The first weekend after driving it back from Essex, there was a Mk. 1 Cavalier parked up in the parking bay where its forerunner once sat. Dad and I spent the day getting to know the Cavalier and drawing up a mental list of what needed to be done. To be honest, I get no real pleasure from driving. It's a purposeful but dull act for getting from A to B, making life a bit easier and keeping my waistline bigger than it should be. So why put all this energy into an old car then? Simply put, tinkering. I'm in this for the engineering and restoration; working out how something should function, fathoming out why the hell it doesn't and putting it right again. I inherited the tinkering gene from Dad who doesn't have a mobile number yet will rewire old mobile phones purely for the gratification of seeing something work again. It's an addictive and life absorbing trait - given the straight choice between driving down the French Rivera with my aforementioned Japanese wife, Akiko, or swapping out a starter motor solenoid, I'll be reaching for my socket set and practising my apologetic-bowing. Given the above, it should come as little surprise that the Cavalier was soon given a thorough coat of looking at to evaluate the work required. OOO is a largely solid car but it was clearly in need of some love to stop any degradation and making it as reliable as a 37 year old motor can be. Preservation was priority, conservation and renovation could come later. After a morning of crawling over the car, it was clear that a heavy service was first on the list - all consumables and fluids were of an unknown vintage and ripe for replacement. Small puddles of oil were appearing wherever it was parked for which needed dealing with. Additionally I was acutely aware there was seven months until it's MOT. Whilst over half of the ticket, three of those months would be the depths of winter with short days and cold temperatures. The prospect of crawling around under the the car, desperately patching it up, as the frost bite started to nibble at my extremities didn't appeal. There were three advisories on the previous MOT, all relating to light corrosion around the suspension, but I struggled to find anything beyond the lightest of surface corrosion. Perhaps the MOT'er was having a bad day or was dumped a Cavalier owning girlfriend once? Still, I vowed to address them. I couldn't see anything else too threatening from my inspection; the exhaust was heavily patched however so probably needed replacing but that really was it. It's hard not to get tempted to by attacking some of the shiny niceties to make it look pretty. There were a couple of scabby bits of cosmetic rust at the bottom of the front wings and front cowl which can't be unseen once you know they're there. Tarting them up would be utterly satisfying. The interior was in needed in a deep-clean and the map bucket (Is that the technical term? Door pocket? Glove retainer? Stuff satchel?) on the drivers door had been cracked so needed replacing, if one could be found. The radio seemed to only be capable of farting impressions and the ariel suffered impotence issues, both would make a nice weekend project. However, all of these were non-essential. They wouldn't put the car off the road so we're not priority for now. Somewhere deep in the future, I'd like to give it a nut-and-bolt rebuild to be the example of a porridge Cavalier. The shell will be taken back to bare metal, given an acid bath to dissolve everything nasty, receive a coat of modern rust protection and slowly mechanically rebuilt to be as fresh as the day it rolled off the Belgian production line. I've got clear vision for it - the project is undertaken in a dedicated workshop, aside my Waltham St. Lawrence cottage, where I can spend my days tinkering away whilst Akiko juggles her rewarding career in marketing for Rebellion and organising our summer trip to Kyoto to see her family. My two rescue Greyhounds offer companionship whilst I work, quietly napping in the late afternoon's sunshine. My only interruptions are to make a fresh pot of tea, light a fresh stick of incense or savour the deafening roar of Concorde's return to the sky. A man can dream, right? That's for the future though - there's many hours of enjoyment to be had first. Besides, I need to find £1.8million for the dream house. And Akiko. Aside from changing the headlights of my Punto, I've never really waved a spanner in anger towards a car. Even the most basic of service jobs were going to be new experiences. I was prepared to learn though; after all, even the greatest engineers started somewhere. I'm sure Brunel would have taken a while to get his head around suck-squeeze-bang-blow in my position. And besides, how hard can it be? If a decent F1 team can service a car in under 2 seconds, I could manage it over a couple of weekends. To prepare for this this voyage of discovery, I started to assemble a reference library - Haynes manuals, workshop manuals, etc were all acquired for a few quid off eBay. To appease my OCD, two copies of each purchased - one tatty for workshop to be covered in grease and one pristine for studying with a glass of decent South American red. One evening a compete set of Cavalier Training Manuals came up for as a lot on eBay; I almost broke my finger as I vigorously slammed the Buy It Now button. These are the holy grail and bible rolled into one, with a sprinkling of engineering p0rn to boot - not only fully illustrated, they list ever part number, tolerance, specialist tool, thread size, measurement and fluid required to strip down and rebuild a Cavalier. Feeling well versed, it was back to eBay to gather the required goods for the service and within an evening of light surfing I had everything I needed to get to work. I've said it before and I'll say it again; the Internet has made a project like this wonderfully straightforward. As the numerous packages arrived, it did feel I was not only preserving an old Vauxhall, but also my local postman's livelihood. Whilst generic service parts were easily available, it became apparent that Cavalier specific spares were scarce. As I write this post, if I go to the Car Parts area of eBay, searching for 'Mk.3 Escort' delivers 35,980 results. 'Mk.2 Polo', a whopping 117,876. 'Mk.1 Cavalier' offers a meagre 862; the majority of those are standardised parts that people have taken the time to list every car ever made in the description. There were some useful bits available, mostly old shop stock of common items like head gaskets and clutch cables that have been gathering dust for the past three decades. However, there was a noticeable lack of key items could put the car off the road. If starter motors and alternators were tricky to find, my prospects of finding a replacement door pocket was rapidly diminishing! Beyond eBay, there's no real trade support for the Cavalier. No one is making any replica parts so the supply is finite to what's out there. There's a couple of folk who have formed their business by hoovering the last remaining stocks of spares worldwide but they know their niche and charge accordingly. €159 for an oil pressure switch, anyone? Without parts being easily or reasonably accessible, it was clear I needed to build my own stocks when a reasonable opportunity presented itself. With this ethos, I picked up a speedo cable and clutch cable off eBay for a few quid - the pointlessness of the latter only clicked some days later. Still, useful it the Slushbox ever gives out I guess. One listing that has stood out in eBay was a set of tatty, reclaimed tail lights. At £40 each, they were expensive but they were attached to a Cavalier which was up for breaking with all parts available, a mere 25 miles from my front door in Bordon. The EBCC was summoned... a fresh adventure loomed. It was a glorious August morning; as many of my peers were taking their beloveds out for Saturday morning eggs Benedict and latte by the Thames, we found ourselves clad in our worst clothes nomming a McDeath in a Halford's car park. It's an high-flying lifestyle this car stuff. In a bid to shake off the post-McMuffin come down, we went for a wander around the auto emporium searching for nothing in particular. Wait? What?! Unbelievably, Halford's stock the very shade that OOO is painted. Bright Copper Metallic... I had to read it a few times to be sure I was reading it correctly. Maybe it's a different colour code with the same name? Nope, A532. Jackpot! Absolute ###### jackpot! I'm completely bemused as to why they stock this; the colour was last used 35 years ago. Surely the sales it generated didn't warrant keeping it as a stock item? Who know, but I appreciated it as I hoovered up everything they had. We headed for Bordon in high spirits - I put it down to the paint revelation but in reality it was probably the McBlood Sugar was just kicking in. This was the sight that greeted us as we pulled into the scrapyard. Poor thing. The yard owner, Pete, had said we were welcome to crawl over it and remove what we wanted as we entered the yard. YKB348W was a fairly standard 1600 manual, it's not clear when it was last on the road but it'd was well over a decade ago. Rot and damp has worked its way through it... crusty was the operative word here. 'For Banger-ing' has been sprawled across the wind screen but thankfully it had been spared such an undignified end. I don't believe the Honda Jazz hat was a factory option either. We set to work - I didn't really have a clear list of bits I wanted, aside from that map pocket... Spot on! Wrong colour, but paint can fix that. I grabbed the radiator pipes, a few switches and other nicknacks from the interior and went to ask Pete for a price. Given he wanted £80 for a pair of tail lights, I was braced for a big ask. 'Tenner the lot?' I'll take that. It was clear that making a deal easy for the seller lead to a good price. If you turn up as promised, remove the bits yourself, pay in cash and remove the need for eBay fees, PayPal fees and posting items; you could cut a good deal. On the drive home, conversation made it apparent that YKB348W had a lot more to give if prices were that keen. The following weekend we returned to Bordon with a clear agenda - remove everything that was worth saving. Pete had kindly pushed the Jazz off during the week and we set to work at the stroke of 08:00. First target was the glass; all of it. Unlike metal work, glass is impossible to bodge if a time of need. It was in short supply too, Google yield nothing more than people making pleas for panes. The retaining rubbers cut cut through and within an hour every window was removed. We then progressively worked out way around the car. Everything under the bonnet has already gone; save for the wiper mechanism. There was lots of trim, mouldings, knobs, dials and fittings that still had life in them - all were removed and put aside. By lunchtime, the beast was felled and an empty carcass laid bare on the concrete. There was nothing more worth saving, it was ready to be cubed. I like this photo. It sums up the situation well - a glorious summers day, tearing an old car apart with your mates. Whilst gathering spares is practical, this was fun. Proper, boys-own fun. We hopped in for one last 'drive'. Thanks YKB348W, you served us well. May the crusher be kind to you. With Alton a stones throw away, we called in for a look at the Mid Hants. Several moments later a rather large NSE device turned up with a certain Griddle car in the rake. Today just kept on giving and giving! Well, it'd be rude not to? Three rover pieces were purchased and we piled on. A few beers attended to the aches and pains that a hard day of Part Scrumping had bought on. We were knackered but victorious. The next morning I awoke to a house full of dirty, tired Cavalier parts. In a large breakers yard they don't look that big, that's certainly different when they're sat in your kitchen. A sense of dread loomed, what the hell do I do with all this stuff? I'm very keen not to build up huge amounts of junk with this project - I've managed to do precisely that with my railway stuff and at some point we've all muttered how it'd be nice to get rid of it all and start again. The Cavalier adventure was a that blank canvas, I had to get into some good habits. I popped down to Tesco and bought a biblical amount of plastic bags and cream cleaner. The grand clean up began... Taking inspiration from the HST Preservation group, with their collection of Valenta's, and the XH558 team, with their zero-hours Olympus lumps, I wanted my stash of parts to be completely ready to go. Every part would be scrubbed, sorted, cleaned, de-corroded, protected, primed, painted, repaired, refreshed, polished, lubricated, protected, bagged and tagged. Odd screws, perished rubbers, knackered electronics would all be changed. If a part was life expired, then it would be binned. There's no point holding onto tat. Each component went through the same process; taking this font bumper side mount as an example. Fresh off the car it only seems fit for the melting pot. However, they're a hard item to find and easily bent in service. First step is to give them a soak into a vat of modern, sanitised, Vegan-friendly and slightly rubbish Nitromors to lift off any old paint. They're then attacked with a firm wire brush to remove any crusty bits. Various grades of sanding block take care of any stubborn bits of rust that need dealings with. Allow me to introduce VacTan, or bottled witchcraft as it's known in the Nicholls household. This milky looking liquid is a weapons grade rust treatment solution that's normally used on boats. The solution is basically a waterproof latex primer that's laced with phosphoric acid - the latter reacts with the iron oxide (er, rust) to form ferric phosphate which is comparatively stable. Painting it into a patch of vivid orange corrosion turns the whole area into a solid black material. It never ceases to please. That said, it can lull you into a false sense of security - the solution can only react with the rust is touches so only the very top layer will be converted. Hence, it should only be used on the lightest of surface corrosion. Something like this bracket is ideal. Good eh? With the bracket looking a bit more hopeful it's now a case of prime... ...base coat... ...and top coat. Et voila! Job done! It may not be concours but it'll do for a bracket that's hidden by a big chrome bumper. I kept working through the other items. The wiper mechanism proved to be the most satisfying as this... ...turned into this. And this... ...turned into this. I appreciate it's hard to fully understand a man who's waxing lyrically about a rusty price of metal that he's squirted some paint on, but the satisfaction overhauling that pile of manky car parts was immeasurable. The joy from breathing life back into something which had, quite literally, been consigned to the scrap heap is huge. I love it. How the guys involved in the overhaul of Barry Scrapyard wrecks feel when they see their years of dedication burst back into life is beyond me, but I can wholly appreciate why XH558's ground crew wept when it barrelled down the runway again. If you have an affinity towards these things you'll know precisely what I mean. If you don't, you're probably scrubbing me off your dinner party list. Within a week, everything reclaimed had been overhauled and was ready for storage. The last worldly remains of YKB 348W were neatly stored away in the largest Tupperware box known to man, ready and waiting for a rainy day. Good fun, this 1:1 modelling stuff. To be continued...