he night before the show. Getting a full eight is very important before the early morning setup, the all-day running, tear-down and take-home. Which is why I pulled a “Zach” and got about two hours of snooze.
Actually, I hit the bed early enough but woke up in the middle of the might, my mind tumbling with club membership issues, show issues, and the upcoming convention next weekend (which I have to host operations for twenty hours AND give a clinic DURING a possible hurricane). So yes, a lot of my mind.
The cats woke me up before the alarm for their 5am feeding. Got my shower and was putting on my clothing when Trailer-puller Jeff texted me that he was starting out with the loaded trailer for Deland. And I still had to load my car and get the donuts! Raced over to Duckin Donuts to find out their baker hadn’t shown up last night and they were “rationing” their donuts – only a dozen per customer (and not the two-dozen I always picked up). Considered racing over to their competitors (a bit out of the way) to pick up more. But for that, I’d have to stall Jeff. Maybe a discrete call to the FHP about a church trailer heading to Deland involved in human trafficking? After all, all he’d need to do was get pulled over, show that he had no human traffic inside (only n-scale modules) and he’d be on his way. The perfect stall-tactic. But that was the sleep deprivation talking and so I just went to I-4 and bombed north for Deland. Hit moderately heavy rain and figured the day was shaping up.
But hey, I got there and Jeff was already lined up to the dock, perfectly placed. That guy truck-handles like Jerry Reed in those “Smokey” movies. And Mike was there, though honestly, I think he lives in the trailer maybe. While we waited for the doors to open, the rest of the setup crew showed up. No rain. Ready to setup!
Show Boss Steve had a new way to set up – it involved everyone listening to the announcement of “their” leg, and for them to take that leg to “their” edge of the module and insert it. While the setup before this was total confusion, I have to admit that this time it was like a samurai movie, with everyone dashing about, wanging their metal legs off each other’s. Just needed bad dubbing and period costumes. But once we got going, setup went well. We were up and running in seventy-five minutes, a good effort. Thanks to all who labored for a lousy dozen donuts.
The show itself seemed to run well enough. I did Rail Boss duties, meaning I tried to keep track of trains running and advise those wishing to go out what conditions were. This allowed Marty, Zach and Chad to all run long trains and nobody seemed put out at all by it. The only serious issue occurred in early afternoon when we suddenly got red lights across the entire panel, the layout power status went out, and nothing was moving. Once I was done panicking, we all started carefully moving (and even removing) engines. I hope nobody was upset to find their engines off (we did handle them with care). Still, it made no difference. I tried shutting down all the blocks and that still made no difference. Add to the fun was some pointless pestering I was fielding simultaneously. I was just considering my final two options (either committing ritual harakiri or going with the more conventional blowing out of the brains) and so I called Steve to say goodbye, cruel world.
“Did you power off and on?” he asked. Yes. And now I will leave this cruel existence…
“Did someone turn off the layout power?”
Um. Meanwhile, John Christensen had his phone out. “Yes, they did.” He clicked a button. “It’s on.” The red lights all turned green. We were back up. And I felt like an idiot. I gotta remember to check that (since this is the second time it has caught me).
We did have a final problem- the three track stub yard on Module 14 (going into NS staging) lost the center turnout. Looks okay and, briefly, it worked again but then went down. Unfortunately it was in the divergent setting, meaning when we cleared the main for takedown, there was nowhere to bring trains in. I climbed under, found the power cable for the turnout and pulled it, allowing me to manually move the points to “through” (yes, Steve, I did it gently).
Takedown went well. Everyone started drifting trains in when the crowds dropped off and the vendors began packing up. Jude heroically kept a short train on the main to meet our contractual agreements. I’ll admit, he started looking worried when the skirts were going down and the buildings up (kinda like Marion Ravenwood in the first Indiana Jones movie, standing amid snakes and yelling “Indie! The touch is going out!”). He got into the clear and stored away as the first modules came apart. So he’s safe.
Everyone pitched in fine. Our only goof was that I turned the lumber crane to “store” and it looked like it stored, before starting a cycle. Since everyone was pushing the Robert Button at that point, I didn’t see it set correctly and I think the power was cut before it placed as it should. It isn’t hanging, but I don’t think it’s in the right spot. Steve’s going to beat me again for this.
I’ll admit that the heat was rising fast in the building as they cut the AC when we all started working. New member Leonard (I hope I spelled that right) helped me load torpedoes (those modules get heavier every show) and we rolled out quickly. Driving back to the club, I almost fell asleep at the wheel at one point (hit the rumble strip and caught myself) so I drank a can of full-strength poison (coke) at the club waiting for Jeff to show up, just to get through the final hour. Zach showed for unloading, Jeff drove in, Mike got out of the trailer and we stored everything away (the short racks are still out – too tired to shift them). Limped back him, sat down on the sofa and told the wife I was ready for dinner, then fell asleep right then and there until 9pm. Did another nine hours last night. So I’m right as rain.
And rain is what we’re going to get, with Milton on the way. Everyone brace for this one.