Switch repair (or build if you're good) including brass frog construction made easy!

These notes and photos describe how I repaired an existing switch of my own design. I've made them available because savvy modelers can easily leverage this to build an entire stub switch from scratch, including the frog (which is the most important part) out of brass.

Here's the sick patient, above. At first glance it's in good shape, considering it's been soldiering away outside for a few years. Incidentally, to bring it inside I had to carefully pry it out of the frozen ground with the tip of a shovel, then leave it overnight on the furnace room floor so the five pounds of ballast-encrusted ice would release. In the morning I still had to run it under warm water in the laundry sink before I could work on it.

The problem. Five years ago I built all ten or so of my switches with this clever resin cast frog of my own design. It sure sped up switch building and helped get my line operating in a hurry. Unfortunately the resin I used was not outdoor-proof. The frog has warped and twisted through repeated cycles of hot and cold , giving rolling stock a rough ride, with unpredictable results, particularly when backing up. I could cast again using more durable resin, but the tougher that stuff is, the more toxic, and I don't want to grow a third arm (though it would no doubt come in handy during many modeling tasks). Besides, there's something satisfying about the sound of steel wheels clattering across a brass frog, which is what I intend to install here...in 40 easy steps!

Things I'll need include: a couple of brass track pieces, a brass plate, tin snips, solder, propane torch, hacksaw, caliper, files (though a belt sander is more fun), a few tacks, plus one iPod with speaker system above the workbench on which to play 80s tunes. I appear to playing Lloyd Cole and the Commotions here. Saw him in concert once. Pretty good, but the opening act, the Go-Betweens, stole the show.

First I'm going to remove the flexible rail assembly by removing just eight spikes and slipping the rail ends out of the throwbar sleeper. Note that flexible rail assembly is held together with five plastic cross ties and only spiked to the last two wooden sleepers, in the right side of the photo. The cross-ties (or ties, or sleepers) were ripped from inexpensive cedar fence boards on my cheapo bandsaw, and when properly ballasted, seem to last forever.

The throwbar assembly includes a plastic tie (the throwbar sleeper) which slides back and forth on the end of a threaded steel rod which passes through the drilled barrel of a barrel bolt latch with nuts on either side. For more information on this device see the dedicated page dedicated on my website or concoct your own system. I don't care.

This shot gives you a better idea of what the movable rail assembly looks like and how the plastic ties are meant to slip between the wooden ties. Since the rails are spiked only at the far end from the throwbar sleeper, the assembly is free to slide and flex as the throwbar pulls it one way or the other, thus changing the direction of travel through the switch.

Plastic ties are typically saved when I cut apart sectional track , like the curve normally sacrificed for this kind of job.

Here I have removed the mangled resin frog -- that's it in the top left corner -- by prying it up with a chisel. Surprisingly it came out intact, spikes and all. By the way, this shot shows how simple the framework is to build an R1 switch from scratch . It’s just two long stringers (or batons) underneath with about seven 4-inch ties affixed (closest to the camera), followed by two more twice that long, and then another seven 6-inch ties. The last bunch vary gradually in length only because I trimmed them after the switch was built. Sleepers and batons are square, as thick as a fence board (about 5/8ths inches).

The cross-ties are brad-nailed to the batons.

Back to the frog end! I will be keeping the outside rails and guard (or check) rails. The rails in the middle are going to go, but for now they're there to help me determine the frog base plate location.

The new frog is going to be soldered to a brass plate and this is the best I could find in my scrap pile. It's the disused roof of my first critter, holes and all, painted green. Here I'm kind of eyeballing it around to see what size to cut it. If I'm smart maybe I can get two base plates out of it.

So here it is. This is how much area I need to cover to create a brass frog that's robust and secure. Centuries from now archeologists will have heated debates about what function the holes were meant to serve in this switch design.

I'm going to need some fresh brass rail, and though my supply of R1 sectional rail is not what it used to be, I have enough for this job.

I start by laying an outer rail (larger radius and slightly longer than its mate) parallel and 45mm from the diverging outside rail. Then, using a marker, I trace its outline on the base plate, along both sides.

I forgot a step. I don't want the whole mess to move around, so I drill two holes through the baseplate and spike it down using two carpet tacks.

Next, I lay this grubby black long straight rail parallel and 45mm from the stock rail and mark along both sides. This rail was actually curved but I hammered it straight. Pretty straight anyway.

And here's what you get. This simple X is magic. Speaking of magic. That marker is a Staedtler Lumocolor 318 Fine Point Permanent Non-refillable. I went through thousands of those when I used to draw comic strips for the college newspaper. I remember one time we'd had a few beers and...Ah but that's another story.

Okay. I have now put the curved golden rail back in place and marked it at the precise spot where it intersects the straight rail outline. The angle of the black mark -- parallel to the ties -- is important.

Now I take that same straight piece of black rail, run it through the throwbar sleeper and butt it up against my mark and the notch of the X (same place).

This is that same piece of grubby black rail, but where I ran it through the throwbar sleeper. I'm marking where it needs to be cut, for the switch to operate. I then carefully cut both marked pieces with a hacksaw, as they are held in a bench vice.

Here's the really magic part. Instead of putting them back as if they were still uncut, I simply swap the two left-most rail pieces. Notice how the black upper rail now joins to the gold below and vice versa. Neat eh? Because I cut carefully, the angles are good for a butt join. Good enough anyway -- it doesn't have to be perfect.

So now I've taken those two left pieces and shortened them. I also notched the rail base about a centimeter from the new end and bent the free ends out a bit. I also chamfered the top of the rail so they don't snag things that will pass over them, like snowplow blades.

Time to introduce one more bit of curved rail and one straight. These two need to meet to make the point of the frog. It doesn't have to be perfect, so I just grind away the meeting edges on the belt sander till they form ...

… a nice point. These two rails have to be long enough to extend past the base plate, just far enough so that you can use a joiner to attach another piece of rail. However, I have chosen to leave them really long. If there were a super glue out there Id be done, but I’m not.

It’s worth checking if the rail alignment through the frog is straight.

An upside down curved rail works when checking the curve.

Here I've sanded off the green paint and redrawn the lines on the baseplate. It’s good to sand all surfaces, including the bottoms of the rail pieces, to get better adhesion.

It ain't pretty but it works. I have melted blobs of solder on the baseplate X. I'm using a piece of ceramic floor tile as my work surface. Flat and heat resistant.

Now the rail pieces are laid in place on top of the solder using the X marker lines as my guide.

That heavy chunk of rectangular steel tube is holding the base plate flat, since it will want to warp when heated, which is what comes next. Using a propane torch I apply flame to the whole shebang until the molten solder flows smoothly beneath the rails. I add a little more solder off the roll as I go too. Here’s where I could really use that third arm I was talking about earlier.

Here I've repositioned the clamp and weight to make sure these bits are nice and flat as I apply heat.

Not bad. There were a few sharp edges where the black rails butted against the gold, and at the frog point, easily cleaned up with a small file. Notice how long the rails out of the frog are. You can do this with a stub switch. There's a lot going on when a wheelset passes through the frog, so why not make it as big and stable as possible?

And here's assembled frog in place. I have drilled about ten more holes through the baseplate and tacked the frog firmly to the cross-ties. I also replaced the straight stock rail with one as long as the one attached to the frog beside it. Then I spiked the free ends of both to regular sleepers. Next I reinstall the movable rail assembly I blathered on about earlier

My favourite step! I test the switch by getting a piece of rolling stock and shooting it back and forth about three or four thousand times. Then I repeat with the switch set the other way. I never tire of the clatter of metal wheels on a brass frog.

Almost done. Time to get out the Track Tools box (formerly diaper wipes box for former adoring toddlers, now tweens, who roll their eyes at me).

This Delton archbar test bogie has both and LGB and an Aristo wheelset. No problemo.

Finally, I run this wheelset from a Lehmann Porter through the switch since it has the smallest back to back measurement in all of garden railroad-dom. If it doesn't bind on the check rails we are good to go.

We are good to go.