On our way back from the Salmon, we stopped by Lochsa Falls and witnessed this:
Note the swimmers, kayaker, and 20 second surf!
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Touring my Favorites....
While I was up in Moscow for the job interview, I remembered that NRS, my favorite gear outfitter was based outta there. I MUST examine more closely.
I poked into this small shed looking thing and began browsing. Not much. I then began talking with an associate Ted, I think, and started prying. Of course I would like a tour....let me grab my camera.
Lets just say when I entered the back, I almost pooped my pants. This building has to be a mile long, full of gear, and operated by boaters. Who'd guess?
It just kept going and going and going. The farther back you go the wider the building became. I was pretty happy in here to say the least.
We walked past a piece of paper on the wall with the accuracy stats for the organizing of the gear and its shipping. It said they had a 98.9% accuracy. This meant of the 80,000 something individual items ordered in May, they only had 31 errors. All done by hand, and working well, very well.
We then enter the call center, all the way in back, not in India, not that I have anything against Indian call centers....
A posh big room, full of all the happy people I talk with on a regular basis. I have to say Im super stoked with the way NRS has turned out. They say Bill Parks, who was wandering in the lobby, started the business in his garage, with $2000, a long time ago. If you get a chance, order a ton of awesome straps, at the least, and be stoked at how applicable this whitewater gear is to everyday life in the flow....
I poked into this small shed looking thing and began browsing. Not much. I then began talking with an associate Ted, I think, and started prying. Of course I would like a tour....let me grab my camera.
Lets just say when I entered the back, I almost pooped my pants. This building has to be a mile long, full of gear, and operated by boaters. Who'd guess?
It just kept going and going and going. The farther back you go the wider the building became. I was pretty happy in here to say the least.We walked past a piece of paper on the wall with the accuracy stats for the organizing of the gear and its shipping. It said they had a 98.9% accuracy. This meant of the 80,000 something individual items ordered in May, they only had 31 errors. All done by hand, and working well, very well.
We then enter the call center, all the way in back, not in India, not that I have anything against Indian call centers....
A posh big room, full of all the happy people I talk with on a regular basis. I have to say Im super stoked with the way NRS has turned out. They say Bill Parks, who was wandering in the lobby, started the business in his garage, with $2000, a long time ago. If you get a chance, order a ton of awesome straps, at the least, and be stoked at how applicable this whitewater gear is to everyday life in the flow....
All in a day at the Maki House....
.... so I need to have my camera ready, at all times, or I miss it, just barely.
So "Commander Data" (thats my old boss' name for me when I worked in Texas hating my existence) was at the Mapp house doing some painting and general tweaking to the establishment. These included examining the well pump and casing for signs of contamination and methods to get bleach in there for a thorough flushing and finishing painting Laurens sweet new RED room.
Now realize that this whole room used to be aqua green before we put that primer grey on there. I swear that edging all the sills and door frames takes forever. Lauren was able to pick her own color for her room at the hardware store. Sweet choice. This reminds me of Dan's apartment in Lincoln when he tried to break every rule on the lease.
The Illness!
At some point in the evening Garrett arrived and brought some more stuff to shuffle in. This is where I come to terms with a Murphy living in the neighborhood. Obviously he deals in Law. Actually it starts the evening before, when I warn G about the dog dish in the dark of night, and then he steps on the edge of it soaking his whole right pant leg. I cry laughing like the asshole that I am.
The first load of gear comes in, but the new badass lightbulbs dont. They sit broken and shattered outside by the pickup door. And after mentioning we should clean it up before Zambi steps on it, guess who is sitting on the shards?
We paint and take a well deserved beer/porch/pellet gun break for the sunset moonrise overlooking No Business peak and plink and watch the clouds rumble past. At this point something weird happens again. A friend arrives and yawns repeatedly at our lack of interestingness:
I bet he weighs a maximum of 15 lbs. We think he may live under the porch. Luckily the Zambinator was sleeping.
We head back inside and break some more lightbulbs, and one that G changed has completely popped the glass off. Why nobody will ever know. Not knowing whether the power is on or off now G ends up welding the little wire jobbies to the tip of his circuit tester. Check, its on.
Before the night and weirdness is over we examine the well pump in the basement:
This little guy and his extended family might give reason to the light contamination of the well. Lets just say he was promptly removed with some light serenading, wine, biscuits, and chortling. After all that he still whined and defecated in my hand.
"Meanwhile, back at the ranch" has new meaning now. Be careful....
So "Commander Data" (thats my old boss' name for me when I worked in Texas hating my existence) was at the Mapp house doing some painting and general tweaking to the establishment. These included examining the well pump and casing for signs of contamination and methods to get bleach in there for a thorough flushing and finishing painting Laurens sweet new RED room.
Now realize that this whole room used to be aqua green before we put that primer grey on there. I swear that edging all the sills and door frames takes forever. Lauren was able to pick her own color for her room at the hardware store. Sweet choice. This reminds me of Dan's apartment in Lincoln when he tried to break every rule on the lease.
The Illness!At some point in the evening Garrett arrived and brought some more stuff to shuffle in. This is where I come to terms with a Murphy living in the neighborhood. Obviously he deals in Law. Actually it starts the evening before, when I warn G about the dog dish in the dark of night, and then he steps on the edge of it soaking his whole right pant leg. I cry laughing like the asshole that I am.
The first load of gear comes in, but the new badass lightbulbs dont. They sit broken and shattered outside by the pickup door. And after mentioning we should clean it up before Zambi steps on it, guess who is sitting on the shards?
We paint and take a well deserved beer/porch/pellet gun break for the sunset moonrise overlooking No Business peak and plink and watch the clouds rumble past. At this point something weird happens again. A friend arrives and yawns repeatedly at our lack of interestingness:
I bet he weighs a maximum of 15 lbs. We think he may live under the porch. Luckily the Zambinator was sleeping.We head back inside and break some more lightbulbs, and one that G changed has completely popped the glass off. Why nobody will ever know. Not knowing whether the power is on or off now G ends up welding the little wire jobbies to the tip of his circuit tester. Check, its on.
Before the night and weirdness is over we examine the well pump in the basement:
This little guy and his extended family might give reason to the light contamination of the well. Lets just say he was promptly removed with some light serenading, wine, biscuits, and chortling. After all that he still whined and defecated in my hand."Meanwhile, back at the ranch" has new meaning now. Be careful....
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Austin, NV....
So the drive North was an epic fourth gear wonder. Just slap it in 4th and go. Plenty of power for the hills and not enough speed to actually warrant paying any sort of attention. I was fortunate to avoid both Reno and Vegas, though I could have gone for a nice park and play at the Reno whitewater park, but that issue is mute now. I headed NE on some of the loneliest highways and actually ended up on the "Loneliest Highway" taking me right into Austin where I was in need of refueling and the Apocalypse was thirsty. I found this cafe/bar on the corner boasting something about "Serbian", and me not knowing whether this is good or bad just barreled in with my $20 in hand.
First thing, I had to fight. I really had to argue with the cafe cook for some food not labeled pizza. I wanted a burger. He didnt want to make it. After him asking me "Pizza?" and me telling him "cheeseburger" about 6 times, he folded. I then headed to the bar for something to wash the Nevada dust away. Not that it was remotely dusty.
I first noticed the big back bar thing that hold the giant mirror and liquor. Attempting to get a glimpse of the towns history I start asking questions that should naturally lead me toward the monstrosity of wood behind the bartender. "So what do people around here do?" is the vagueity (a new word) that exits my brain and mouth. In less than 42 milliseconds the Serbian bartender answers: "We eat, drink, and fuck". My bud light almost comes out of my nose, as he points to this 40 something lady who winks at me as the bartender mentions in a very loud tone: "shes ready!" Something tells me that if the food were to arrive now the awkward situation might focus itself elsewhere. It doesnt. I never did get the answer.
Way back in the day people came and made Austin bc of a silver boom. Now, that ore mining is quite dead due to the price of silver being so low and the cost of production being quite high. When this little bar was packed with miners (not talking about major politics of the last four presidential administrations) it acquired the awesome bar back it has today. Apparently from the UK in origin, it was shipped over in '27 and trained from the East coast to 'Frisco and then wagoned up to where it is today. Over the years I bet this thing has seen many a thrown beer bottle.
I highly recommend getting in a political debate here. The bartender is some political oddity of knowledge and secrets.
(I failed to mention why this story starts out in 4th gear. 2 days before my actual departure from LA I was going up a hill and 5th gear just stopped being there. Fortunately theres a 4th. That means I can cruise and gawk at a stunning 56 mph)
First thing, I had to fight. I really had to argue with the cafe cook for some food not labeled pizza. I wanted a burger. He didnt want to make it. After him asking me "Pizza?" and me telling him "cheeseburger" about 6 times, he folded. I then headed to the bar for something to wash the Nevada dust away. Not that it was remotely dusty.
I first noticed the big back bar thing that hold the giant mirror and liquor. Attempting to get a glimpse of the towns history I start asking questions that should naturally lead me toward the monstrosity of wood behind the bartender. "So what do people around here do?" is the vagueity (a new word) that exits my brain and mouth. In less than 42 milliseconds the Serbian bartender answers: "We eat, drink, and fuck". My bud light almost comes out of my nose, as he points to this 40 something lady who winks at me as the bartender mentions in a very loud tone: "shes ready!" Something tells me that if the food were to arrive now the awkward situation might focus itself elsewhere. It doesnt. I never did get the answer.
Way back in the day people came and made Austin bc of a silver boom. Now, that ore mining is quite dead due to the price of silver being so low and the cost of production being quite high. When this little bar was packed with miners (not talking about major politics of the last four presidential administrations) it acquired the awesome bar back it has today. Apparently from the UK in origin, it was shipped over in '27 and trained from the East coast to 'Frisco and then wagoned up to where it is today. Over the years I bet this thing has seen many a thrown beer bottle.I highly recommend getting in a political debate here. The bartender is some political oddity of knowledge and secrets.
(I failed to mention why this story starts out in 4th gear. 2 days before my actual departure from LA I was going up a hill and 5th gear just stopped being there. Fortunately theres a 4th. That means I can cruise and gawk at a stunning 56 mph)
Monday, May 17, 2010
Lochsa or Bust!!!!
Lochsa Falls at about 6000 something cfs. Were in the ARA boat, and I got the red suit and green helmet.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Lose Your Shorts....
....This is why you need to czech you parts.
Through one way or another one may have heard that I ventured to the most interesting land of Lost Wages. It was my friend Nat's 30th birthday and getting pretty close to mine as well. On top of all this, Ive never been there, making me a Vegas Virgin. All I can say is I was completely unprepared for what happened thereafter. What happens in Vegas should most definitely stay in Vegas. But heres a taster:
Las Vegas means "the plains", although there is nothing plain about it. Strangely for the first time in years the entire area was green and fairly lush for a complete wasteland. Go earth cycles!
The global flavor
Under the influence of friends
Frazzled and happy
in the sun
Photo-bombing is actually
quite fun
Through one way or another one may have heard that I ventured to the most interesting land of Lost Wages. It was my friend Nat's 30th birthday and getting pretty close to mine as well. On top of all this, Ive never been there, making me a Vegas Virgin. All I can say is I was completely unprepared for what happened thereafter. What happens in Vegas should most definitely stay in Vegas. But heres a taster:
Las Vegas means "the plains", although there is nothing plain about it. Strangely for the first time in years the entire area was green and fairly lush for a complete wasteland. Go earth cycles!
The global flavor
Under the influence of friends
Frazzled and happyin the sun
Photo-bombing is actuallyquite fun
Overload would be a excellent label for the weekend. I still havent fully recovered, and almost never want to go there again. My gastrointestinal tract is pissed off. Internal clock is broken. Theres a plethora of external wounds, mostly attributed to the "Nightstand". I hate the nightstand.
Imagine waking up and feeling abused. Feeling violated. Sore. Then you look up all hazed from the corner of the room where you slept. You see something ominous. Something looking down upon the evil deeds it has done the night before. Theres 4 partially empty bottles, some spilled sitting atop, the built in shade is half broken. It stares at you, smoldering cigarette perched out of its slightly ajar drawer. You come to. Realizing "the nightstand" is to blame. Violated and ashamed, you crawl into the shower, never to look back, hungry for breakfast....
Imagine waking up and feeling abused. Feeling violated. Sore. Then you look up all hazed from the corner of the room where you slept. You see something ominous. Something looking down upon the evil deeds it has done the night before. Theres 4 partially empty bottles, some spilled sitting atop, the built in shade is half broken. It stares at you, smoldering cigarette perched out of its slightly ajar drawer. You come to. Realizing "the nightstand" is to blame. Violated and ashamed, you crawl into the shower, never to look back, hungry for breakfast....
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Epicness....
Different from Loch Ness. Different from toe jam. Different from Godzilla. Pure Awesome.
If you havent figured out where the last two weekends were staged, then youre out of luck, becasue Im still not telling, even though the baby is in the bathwater, or dont throw the proof out with the pudding. Something like that?
This episode is called "Epicness" because if the pureness of epic that it is (metaphysically). I mean, Pipestone was fun. Maybe termed "Epic" at one time. But at no time did I feel all the things I felt here. Ive been tired. Stoked. Covered in mud, and unable to feel my hands. Cant breathe. Cant stand. Back hurts. But my butt doesnt? That was the part that made no sense.
6600 ft
After watching the helmet cam I realised I need to come back. But this here is a bit of mystery documentation. Mysterious place. Obvious documentation.
Under the same tree
where we left off last time...
At some point in the massive ride, I realized that my chest protector was really rubbing me the wrong way. It could have been the new morning garage workout was building my pecks, but I think it was the cool breeze. Either way Brian had to fashion me up some electrical tape pasties to protects my glass cutting gems.
We made it alive. Gnasty hill climbs and exhausting descents. I definitely feel I learned how to ride a bike that day, if not just a wee bit better.
Im gonna work on compiling some of this massive gopro footage and see if we cant get a sick amateur video of the trails up...stay tuned....
If you havent figured out where the last two weekends were staged, then youre out of luck, becasue Im still not telling, even though the baby is in the bathwater, or dont throw the proof out with the pudding. Something like that?
This episode is called "Epicness" because if the pureness of epic that it is (metaphysically). I mean, Pipestone was fun. Maybe termed "Epic" at one time. But at no time did I feel all the things I felt here. Ive been tired. Stoked. Covered in mud, and unable to feel my hands. Cant breathe. Cant stand. Back hurts. But my butt doesnt? That was the part that made no sense.
6600 ft
Under the same treewhere we left off last time...
At some point in the massive ride, I realized that my chest protector was really rubbing me the wrong way. It could have been the new morning garage workout was building my pecks, but I think it was the cool breeze. Either way Brian had to fashion me up some electrical tape pasties to protects my glass cutting gems.
We made it alive. Gnasty hill climbs and exhausting descents. I definitely feel I learned how to ride a bike that day, if not just a wee bit better.
Im gonna work on compiling some of this massive gopro footage and see if we cant get a sick amateur video of the trails up...stay tuned....
Life Above Lava....
A great place it is. And youre almost always there.
The night before we had to run Lava Falls on the Grand Canyon, we had to make some ritualistic homages or sacrifices, offerings you might call them. One of which was the "painting of the nails". That was early December. Now its almost May and the anthropological evidence is still there:
But just a scotsh....
The night before we had to run Lava Falls on the Grand Canyon, we had to make some ritualistic homages or sacrifices, offerings you might call them. One of which was the "painting of the nails". That was early December. Now its almost May and the anthropological evidence is still there:
But just a scotsh....
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Giant Suck of Taxes Actually Blows....
Done, with refund this year. It actually pays to make less money. Weird?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Exploratative....
So this last weekend turned out to be a total win. Brian, Sean(SOB) and I headed up into a river valley that I have always want to go to, since I heard about it in Costa Rica. Its in the Sierras.
Im just gonna have to the leave the name out for the safety and security of my recreating future, as this place kicks all ass and theres no one around. Theres a sick river (class III,IV,V,VI) thats super fun and super serious. Theres a bazillion trails for dirtbiking and the grassy rolling california granite hills look so beautiful to the hungover human eye.
We had a bit of a multi-challenge going on here. I suited up for some kayaking fun on a nice class IV stretch while B and SOB suited up for a sweet dirt exploration ride.
Some dork pretending he knows
how to do nose manuals
The kayaking was choice. The water was an expected lower flow that turned out to be tons of fun. Lots of blind horizon lines and mystery mini waterfalls amidst the plethora of bouldery choose-your-own-adventure routes. I smiled. Lots of scouting and Moose was nearly impaled by was moistened scimitar log poking out of the current. Scary.
I loaned my camera to SOB for their ride and from what I heard and saw, it was amazing and gnarly. Gotta love dirt.
Apparently there was a lot of trees down from the winter. They made it to the snow line too.
Unsynchronized flash blinding the masses as we drove in the canyon. I was fairly certain the Apostle (camper's name) was gonna get torn off by all the overhanging ledges we drove by.
Overall: a sick weekend in the sticks!
Im just gonna have to the leave the name out for the safety and security of my recreating future, as this place kicks all ass and theres no one around. Theres a sick river (class III,IV,V,VI) thats super fun and super serious. Theres a bazillion trails for dirtbiking and the grassy rolling california granite hills look so beautiful to the hungover human eye.
We had a bit of a multi-challenge going on here. I suited up for some kayaking fun on a nice class IV stretch while B and SOB suited up for a sweet dirt exploration ride.
Some dork pretending he knowshow to do nose manuals
I loaned my camera to SOB for their ride and from what I heard and saw, it was amazing and gnarly. Gotta love dirt.
Apparently there was a lot of trees down from the winter. They made it to the snow line too.
Unsynchronized flash blinding the masses as we drove in the canyon. I was fairly certain the Apostle (camper's name) was gonna get torn off by all the overhanging ledges we drove by.Overall: a sick weekend in the sticks!
Loading and Unloading....
Continued from earlier....
So in the interim of loading all this stuff for Lester and Robin, he started to unload stuff on me and others as well. I was fortunate to get a home for the back of the truck and some bikes, and some lamps and tools as well. Sweet. Getting both those bikes in the camper was a total toe knuckle breaking experience as I had to literally lift one on top of the other, solo. And crush toes, as they were. (I need to stop wearing flipflops for everything)
Notice the yellow wall window thing over my shoulder? Well its not there anymore, along with a many other improvements and customizations. When I tried removing the bikes I tore a giant hole in the couch cushion so it prompted an Interior Design meet with Lacee. She pretty much designed the fabric layout in 5 minutes. It is a huge space to work with, I mean, seriously...
The Pile
So needless to be repetitive, Robin and Lester are awesome. I didnt have any pics of Robin so on my last day I rushed out to catch her before she left for work. The cool part is she drives a bus for some of the neighboring outdoor schools, and heckles kids at a whim. The roads she drives are all tight and curvy and would freak me out as I feel the Apocalypse barely fits. Stick a hand out the window and lose it. But such is the nature of kids. I heard some great stories too, like the time a kid completely lost it and started kidney punching and covering her face while she was driving the mountain roads. Yikes. She also drove with a cracked block for 20 miles at the suggestion of a mechanic. Lets just say that didnt turn out well.
So she has this half hour safety routine to do every morning before she drives. Mostly warming the engine up and repeatedly testing air brakes. I caught her at it. Very squeaky business.
The night before Robin made the most amazing handcrafted pizza with her own stone ground flour, some tomato sauce from the garden, and some moose a friend shot. Needles to say it was quite tasty. After that and a nice tour of the upper deck with included hot tub and Lester built redwood headboard/shelf we lowered some heavy stuff off the deck with his custom roof winch. We then headed down and enjoyed a major helping of some more home crafted straw-barb pie before I "rolled" out the door and into bed, fat and exhausted.
So in the interim of loading all this stuff for Lester and Robin, he started to unload stuff on me and others as well. I was fortunate to get a home for the back of the truck and some bikes, and some lamps and tools as well. Sweet. Getting both those bikes in the camper was a total toe knuckle breaking experience as I had to literally lift one on top of the other, solo. And crush toes, as they were. (I need to stop wearing flipflops for everything)
Notice the yellow wall window thing over my shoulder? Well its not there anymore, along with a many other improvements and customizations. When I tried removing the bikes I tore a giant hole in the couch cushion so it prompted an Interior Design meet with Lacee. She pretty much designed the fabric layout in 5 minutes. It is a huge space to work with, I mean, seriously...
The PileSo needless to be repetitive, Robin and Lester are awesome. I didnt have any pics of Robin so on my last day I rushed out to catch her before she left for work. The cool part is she drives a bus for some of the neighboring outdoor schools, and heckles kids at a whim. The roads she drives are all tight and curvy and would freak me out as I feel the Apocalypse barely fits. Stick a hand out the window and lose it. But such is the nature of kids. I heard some great stories too, like the time a kid completely lost it and started kidney punching and covering her face while she was driving the mountain roads. Yikes. She also drove with a cracked block for 20 miles at the suggestion of a mechanic. Lets just say that didnt turn out well.
So she has this half hour safety routine to do every morning before she drives. Mostly warming the engine up and repeatedly testing air brakes. I caught her at it. Very squeaky business.
The night before Robin made the most amazing handcrafted pizza with her own stone ground flour, some tomato sauce from the garden, and some moose a friend shot. Needles to say it was quite tasty. After that and a nice tour of the upper deck with included hot tub and Lester built redwood headboard/shelf we lowered some heavy stuff off the deck with his custom roof winch. We then headed down and enjoyed a major helping of some more home crafted straw-barb pie before I "rolled" out the door and into bed, fat and exhausted.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Holy Hand Grenades....
So with the fall and rise of rain and rivers comes a new documentary chapter in the Parts Czeching. Over many a beers, Brian and I decided I should write more. I mean in LA with all the uberskilled peeps running around, why not. Besides, I have all the time in world. So this is the beginning of the next chapter. In between Ive been trying to learn how to spell, or type, or both.
I finally escaped from NM. Whew....
Next, my travels brought me to an interesting little youth camp deep in the redwoods just off the California coast. It was here that I managed to haphazardly met Lester (and Robin) while attempting to change the 4 gallons of oil on the Apocalypse.
You cant see it but theres a towing winch
built on the to the back of the cart!
A little background on Lester: Hes awesome, period. He used to be the camp's maintenance everything guy. Hes built the upper stories on the house he lives in now and the neighboring house. He has approx 5 antennas for his HAM radio communications, and he considers welding with a torch a form of art. He has an arc welder too. In fact he has everything. And all this everything I am trying to help load and move. And by everything I mean everything that he has been storing for the past 40 years.
I have been loading up pallets of old pipe fittings, 60 year old lumber and little blocks, and partially broken concrete tiles and snippets of wire and rusty cans of all variations of liquid toxins. Most of which are really good at removing paint or applying it. The funny part is he remembers everything's story, and if I ask (which I do) he'll tell whatever I want to know. Just like when I pulled a cardboard box off the shelf, I asked. He explained about how back when he met Robin he cut, split and sold a cord of wood with a hand saw, and used the money to buy a electric chainsaw (in the box) which he could then run off Robin's generator. Moments later he showed me the metal bands used to construct her geodesic dome. There was no tool for them so he didnt know whether he should keep em or not. So he did keep em, like the giant iron oxyacetylene pipe gun. Doesn't work anymore, but well bring it anyway.
Hes showed me his own photo album too. The time the bobcat rolled off a cliff and was caught by 3 trees. the time he rolled the 30 foot trailer on black ice and his son got mangled by the unrelease mechanism. the original pics of Robin, him and his oldest son in the 1938 Ford Flatbed. The same flatbed in the container that Ill be driving to Joe later this year.
Bobcat and Ford cab in the same photo, w00t!!
The same one that rolled off the road!
We dig into another pile of parts and chemicals aged by rust and acidic redwood duff and find dens and dead rats, liquids with undisclosed contents, and a bar that his son made so that Lester could attach a trailer to the xr250. The same bike that has been given to me for my help in the matter. Which brings us to why I might be needed here....
One day, asking about the condition of Lester's back, he responded about how he thinks it got to the injured condition it is today. Turns out he lifted 4 cast iron bathtubs and a lawn tractor to change the tire in a single day. He didnt get out of bed for 5 months after that. Now I do all the lifting of the 22 sets of tire chains. His rock collection from every camping trip ever. Random rusty pipes. Plastic mystery everything and a box who knows I dont wanna ask stuff.
A little crack in the morning?
So far through some free time and sweat equity I have inherited a camper and some motorcycles. So now I have a permanently moving home and some more bikes for Brian's garage. But theres much work to do, like pulling some antennas off the roof and tearing around in the bobcat which he gets to enjoy watching me enjoy learning how to drive. Weird that I haven't before. Piece of cake really.
We also get to enjoy air power-assisted fire waste management:
Finally I get to end the day with a beer and start a new one fresh with some eggs and coffee!
I finally escaped from NM. Whew....
Next, my travels brought me to an interesting little youth camp deep in the redwoods just off the California coast. It was here that I managed to haphazardly met Lester (and Robin) while attempting to change the 4 gallons of oil on the Apocalypse.
You cant see it but theres a towing winchbuilt on the to the back of the cart!
I have been loading up pallets of old pipe fittings, 60 year old lumber and little blocks, and partially broken concrete tiles and snippets of wire and rusty cans of all variations of liquid toxins. Most of which are really good at removing paint or applying it. The funny part is he remembers everything's story, and if I ask (which I do) he'll tell whatever I want to know. Just like when I pulled a cardboard box off the shelf, I asked. He explained about how back when he met Robin he cut, split and sold a cord of wood with a hand saw, and used the money to buy a electric chainsaw (in the box) which he could then run off Robin's generator. Moments later he showed me the metal bands used to construct her geodesic dome. There was no tool for them so he didnt know whether he should keep em or not. So he did keep em, like the giant iron oxyacetylene pipe gun. Doesn't work anymore, but well bring it anyway.Hes showed me his own photo album too. The time the bobcat rolled off a cliff and was caught by 3 trees. the time he rolled the 30 foot trailer on black ice and his son got mangled by the unrelease mechanism. the original pics of Robin, him and his oldest son in the 1938 Ford Flatbed. The same flatbed in the container that Ill be driving to Joe later this year.
Bobcat and Ford cab in the same photo, w00t!!The same one that rolled off the road!
One day, asking about the condition of Lester's back, he responded about how he thinks it got to the injured condition it is today. Turns out he lifted 4 cast iron bathtubs and a lawn tractor to change the tire in a single day. He didnt get out of bed for 5 months after that. Now I do all the lifting of the 22 sets of tire chains. His rock collection from every camping trip ever. Random rusty pipes. Plastic mystery everything and a box who knows I dont wanna ask stuff.
A little crack in the morning?So far through some free time and sweat equity I have inherited a camper and some motorcycles. So now I have a permanently moving home and some more bikes for Brian's garage. But theres much work to do, like pulling some antennas off the roof and tearing around in the bobcat which he gets to enjoy watching me enjoy learning how to drive. Weird that I haven't before. Piece of cake really.
We also get to enjoy air power-assisted fire waste management:
Finally I get to end the day with a beer and start a new one fresh with some eggs and coffee!
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