There’s this place next to the Ogden 6 Movie Theater called Slot Car Raceway.
From afar, it kind of looks like a storefront for a mafia safehouse, but when you take a closer look, the entire space is filled with slot car race tracks–mazes of metal, plastic, and wood that loop over and under, inside and out. Less sketchy, but it’s definitely not somewhere you’d want to take someone on a first date to.
A while ago, I paid a visit to Slot Car Raceway to buy electric motors for a hovercraft I was building. As I walked in, the middle-aged man smoking outside quickly stamped out his cigarette and followed me in. He introduced himself as the owner, and offered to help. Speaking to him, I learned that slot car racing, though a niche hobby, has a good number of participants around the country. Basically people assemble lightweight plastic vehicles, strap high powered electric motors on them, and race them around the tracks at up to 100 mph! So yeah, low key interesting. I ended up buying some high rpm motors from the guy, but I couldn’t help feeling that slot cars weren’t the only “goods” they were selling there.
Despite my suspicions, I gained some new respect for that guy and his store. He fell in love with a hobby enough to turn it into a business. It also got me thinking about how having a hobby is stereotyped to be a midlife crisis activity–the name “slot car racing” exudes late 40’s balding men gathered over soldering irons trying to put the finishing touches on their precision engineered slot car before the regional open championships. From my perspective, hobbies don’t come with age restrictions–there’s no reason why a teenage girl should shy away from something like woodworking because it’s “something old men do”.
Personally, I’ve always considered myself a hobbyist–there’s not a lot that I won’t consider trying.
The first real hobby I had was photography. Back in fifth grade, my mom got tired of seeing me sitting around watching youtube every weekend, so she handed me a camera and an instructional booklet for me to peruse. Initially, my idea of photography involved walking around the neighborhood with my dad’s fancy DSLR on “auto” mode, snapping pictures of plants, and calling it nature photography. Basically, that’s the equivalent of buying a Mac and only using it to watch Netflix.
Eventually, I learned how to properly use the camera, and was able to experiment and capture some pretty cool images. I used slow shutter speeds to create light paintings, rigged up water to drip so I could capture the moment a droplet splashed down, and dropped strawberries into an old fish tank to visualize the trails they made through the water.
Ultimately, my photography skills never really excelled beyond the point of snapping Shutterstock stock photos, but I think the fun I had doing it helped inspire my passion for my next hobby: aquascaping.
While “fishkeeping” conjures up memories of upturned carnival goldfish, aquascaping takes a more refined approach to the hobby–natural elements, artistic composition, and water chemistry. My aquascaping phase started with a simple betta tank, but soon escalated to a 5-gallon planted tank decorated with driftwood, rocks, live plants, and five beautiful golden white mountain minnows.
I loved the research, details, and care that went into aquascaping, such as the Japanese rules of aquarium composition, which dictated that odd numbers of rocks should be positioned to create the most natural appearance. I studied water chemistry, filtration, and lighting, allowing my minnows to thrive for over two years. Aquascaping proved pretty expensive for my middle school allowance, so it was unsustainable in the long run. I’ll definitely come back to it in the future, though.
Together, photography and aquascaping helped develop the attention to detail and creativity necessary for me to pursue oil-painting, a more technically demanding hobby.
The summer before my sophomore year, I had nothing better to do, so I dove into oil painting. It was then I learned about dynamic composition, which replaced the rule of thirds as a superior way to arrange the subjects within a painting. After getting familiar with the methods of Bob Ross, I quickly realized there was so much more to oil painting than just freehanded landscapes. I absorbed video after video on youtube to learn new techniques, and even checked out painting books at the library. My obsession with painting probably contributed to my nickname “grandpa Neil”, which a few friends called me back then.
At the end of the summer, I produced two original seascapes that I think are some of my most beautiful works.
Later, I began to diversify my pallette, painting this cityscape of New York that won a Gold Key at the Scholastic Art and Writing Competition.
I also completed this mural for Mr. Farrell, who wanted me to paint one because he’s also into painting (which doesn’t really help the “grandpa Neil” stereotype).
Presently, I haven’t been able to paint as much as I’d like. My summers have been pretty busy, and honestly, I fear that I’m a little out of practice. Hopefully, I’ll have time this summer to wrap up a few paintings I never finished.
These last two hobbies already have separate blogs devoted to them here and here, but long story short, I got obsessed with woodworking and 3D printing this summer.
I started woodworking on a whim in mid July, and it led to me joining North’s woodworking club (which has a total of five members) last fall. I’m not great with chisels yet, but I’ve made some simple wall and room decor for friends and teachers.
I took on 3D printing as a hobby after my music capstone project involved using 3D printing to create custom saxophone mouthpieces. I got my hands on a 3D printer for free after my computer science partner, Josh, who happens to be a 3D printing guru, found one on the side of the road and gave it to me. But anyways, I’ll be attending the Midwest RepRap festival, the largest 3D printing conference in the Midwest, this spring with Josh.
In all my years of being a hobbyist, it’s often been hard to find a larger community that shares my passions. However, when I do meet someone, we almost always become good friends. Having a hobby is far more than something one might do to justify their existence–it’s exploration, networking, an exercise in problem solving and neuroplasticity. So I urge you, no matter how niche you think a hobby is, just give it a shot. I can guarantee there’s so much more to it than you ever thought possible.