Many of us can remember when we were first captivated by model railroads.  One of my earliest memories was as a five-year old coming downstairs on Christmas morning to find a Tyco “Spirit of ‘76” trainset running around the dining room table.  I was bitten.  Almost 45 years later, I still have that horn-hook couplered red, white and blue locomotive and cars safely packed away.

Growing up just a few blocks from the C&NW (later UP) mainline 30 miles west of Chicago, I was never at a loss for watching the real thing.  I’d frequently hop on my bike and head down to the local station to watch bi-level green and yellow commuter cars pulled by the road’s F9s, or long manifest freights rumbling through at speed, likely heading for the line’s Proviso yards.

Occasionally, my dad would take me and a friend or two to visit one the area model railroad clubs.  My favorite was the now gone Salt Creek Model Railroad Club in Elmhurst, IL.  It was a fully complete operating layout that had spectacular scenery, day and night operations that featured long freight and passenger traffic, and grumpy old men sitting on raised platform operating whole magnificent show.  It provided the inspiration for each of the layouts I built (with the help of my father) as a young boy.

But it was the Model Railroader subscription, an annual gift from my grandmother, that really opened my eyes to what was possible in the hobby.  That’s where I was introduced to the greats, like Linn Westcott, John Allen, John Olson, Gordon Odegard, Jim Hediger, Andy Sperandeo, Paul Dolkos, Lorrell Joiner, and so many more.

But the modeler whose work inspired me the most was the brilliant Malcolm Furlow.  His artistry and ingenuity, not to mention his self-deprecating humor, was the ideal way to introduce this mid-western kid who’d never even seen a mountain to the beauty of Rocky Mountain narrow gauge railroading.  His MR series and subsequent book, HO Narrow Gauge You Can Build, created the foundation for what has turned into a three-plus decade-long love affair with the narrow gauge railroads of the Rocky Mountain west.

Even now, I can vividly picture the classic photo of a well-used 2-8-0 consolidation pulling a mixed freight over a tall, spindly trestle enroute to Tin Cup on Furlow’s San Juan Central.  I was bitten by the bug.

About six months ago, I came across a posting of Furlow’s famous Rio Chama Western on Youtube.  All these years later, I’m still mesmerized by his talent.