Says Lou Maxon of his mobile home office: “When I’m working it’s not moving, but there’s so much connection to being outside. I can see the house from either end, the views change, the lights change.”
Says Lou Maxon of his mobile home office: “When I’m working it’s not moving, but there’s so much connection to being outside. I can see the house from either end, the views change, the lights change.”
Aaron Leitz
Says Lou Maxon of his mobile home office: “When I’m working it’s not moving, but there’s so much connection to being outside. I can see the house from either end, the views change, the lights change.”
Aaron Leitz
Lou Maxon leaves for work.
Aaron Leitz
Says Maxon: “It is the widest private railroad in the world, (and) probably the tallest and the shortest railway in the world.”
Aaron Leitz
The train is run by a locomotive control panel. “You put in a brass reverser key which runs it and controls braking," Maxon says.
Aaron Leitz
Overlooking where two railroads used to run through the town of Carnation, the home and studio resemble a train and caboose.
When Lou Maxon leaves for work in the morning, he steps outside his home, boards his office, turns a key and rides it along a railway track to a nearby forest. Yes, Maxon rides the rails to work in his home office. “Sometimes I work at one end, sometimes at the other. Sometimes I just stop at a place in between.”
Maxon built the studio working with architect Tom Kundig, from Olson Kundig Architects in Seattle. Kundig takes up the story: “At one point I said, somewhat jokingly, ‘Could we deploy Lou out into the forest? How cool would it be to take his office and put it on tracks?’ It started as an offhand comment, but we quickly realized we all wanted to figure out how to make it happen.”
Maxon’s office is on the first level of the studio, while upstairs the creative director can meet with clients, read a book or just enjoy the view.
ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW
ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW
The studio is mounted on 15-foot gauge, repurposed Great Northern Railway track. The railroad ties are made of Douglas fir. Explains Kundig: “The actual movement is electrically powered, with a long cord that unwinds behind the studio as it travels toward the house and coils up as it moves back to the forest.”
There are wheel stops on either end of the track on both rails and a vertical bar which prevents it from tipping.
Permits for the studio was easy, says Kundig: “On paper, it’s just a studio with some electrical services.”
The studio, weighing 17.5 tons pounds and measuring 300 square feet, normally sits next to Maxon’s 3,200 square foot home and looks out over the town of Carnation. It has electricity but no plumbing.
“The structure had to be able to support two levels without a traditional foundation beneath them. We had to be sure the windows wouldn’t break when the studio started moving. Plus, the ground the rails rest on had to be absolutely, perfectly flat. It looks simple, but a lot of work went into making sure the infrastructure of the rail system would perform,” explains Kundig.
Maxon loves it. “It’s my office. It’s literally my commute. It’s kind of magical. I can work downstairs or upstairs. I’ve seen it through four seasons. I’ve driven it through snow, through heavy rain, which we get a lot here. I can move it depending on the sun and the light. I think the first year of it has been beyond expectations.”
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