For years, the lawn would prove a formidable barrier to the coming of the railway. In 1854, John Evans of Glyncoch raised a share capital of five thousand pounds and set out with an army of 15,000 navvies to construct a standard gauge line running east to west, directly across the grass. Every man, and all their equipment, disappeared into the mist and was never seen again, although rumours of their eventual fate were rife for decades afterwards…

At the turn of the century, further attempts were made to cross the lawn, including at least two aborted proposals by the GWR. All foundered due to lack of investors, poor planning, inadequate lawn-mowing, bad weather or plain bad luck. It looked as if the railway would continue to go “the long way” (via the flower beds).

…Until yesterday, because the eldest JRA and I successfully began to lay track across the barren, muddy waste of the lawn! Screwing our courage to the sticking place (or something?), we cut into the turf and dug out a dozen sods to form the usual trench, filling it with bricks and gravel as is our wont. I was reminded of Stephenson throwing moss and heather fruitlessly into the bottomless bog of Chat Moss, or Maddocks emptying wagon after wagon of stone into the Glaslyn estuary as he attempted to build the Cob embankment across it; for however much gravel we pour into the trench, it never quite seems to rise to the level of the track. That’ll be some more backbreaking, suspension-bending trips to B&Q then. (Btw, my JRA turns out to be a dab hand when it comes to brushing ballast around the track.) I’m sure I ought to be able to get away with a few deep holes for the bricks and a much shallower level of gravel inbetween (say a couple of inches). This was originally part of the point of using the bricks as anchorage. Must try harder.

The track has a pleasing curve to it, although perhaps I should have gone the other way as the proportion of lawn I’ve eaten into is somewhat embarrassing for a “low-impact” line. (The GRA is currently looking at bridges so that small wobbly people may cross safely.) I tried to raise it on a subtle gradient to meet the lawn and create less of a dip. Fortunately, the lawn also falls away slightly as we progress across it, so the two might actually come together on a level by the third curve.

Laying a curve and another two yards of track has been good progress, given the myriad distractions this week. Although if the weather continues in the same bitterly cold vein, it’ll be the last tracklaying session until Spring - definitely a time for staying indoors with a glass of red and a volume of Boyd. To celebrate our work, we gave the ugly loco a quick blast round the full length of track and actually achieved one complete run without mishap before finishing. (The flanges on the loco are so wide that it bumps over the moulded chairs and this, combined with its breckneck hurtling, often conspires to derail it on the slightest pebble or twig.)

Incidentally, the leaf problem I knew about, but didn’t realise I would have to contend with complete branches coming down as well.

Today I had another quick jaunt outside. No further digging, but I did lay out the remaining lengths on the grass to see if they’re going to fit. It’s going to be tight; there will be two gaps next to the remaining curves of approximately ten and twenty-six inches - the exact combined length of the last yard of track. Some precise cutting and bending will be required to make the ends match up. (Place your bets now on how many centimetres short they’ll be.)