A Bridge Can Be a Luxury

After spending the past two weeks walking to the house, or back down to the vehicles, having new culvert in the ditch, all nicely covered with gravel and packed tightly, seems almost luxurious. No more walking up or down the hill in the dark. Ahhhhhh.

Even though it is entirely mechanical, there is a "touch" required to make a machine do whatever job you are asking it to do with skill and dexterity. Yesterday, I watched Frank display a high degree of skill and ability. His backhoe is an extension of his hands.

The ability to reach out with a bucket, pick up a rock and place it precisely where he wanted it, was fun to watch. And if the rock didn't end up where he wanted it, a nudge, push, or pull with the bucket would put it in place.

And when it came to putting the load of gravel around the culvert, I figured he'd just back the truck up and dump it in the hole. Nope. Frank filled the front-loader bucket from the dump-bed then carefully poured it in the hole exactly where he wanted it. Too much gravel, packed too tightly at first, would lift the culvert up by forcing gravel under it. Too little, not packed tightly enough, and there would be holes beside the culvert which might wash out.

A little gravel here, a little more over there, another bucket on this side, and then we all got in and started tightening up the gravel around the pipe. Several more loads on the sides and around the pipe, brought it up to just below the surface level of the existing road.

That is when the Whacker, a gas-powered tamper, was brought into use. It was run over the gravel packing it down and snugging up the support beside the pipe. Finally, at last, the remainder of the gravel in the truck was dumped on the tamped gravel, and scraped and pushed level.

A few passes over the new crossing with the weight of the backhoe, and the road was once again passable without walking from the ditch. Wow, what a luxury that seems like. We take some things for granted, it appears.

The next and final Old Pick column was sent to the Recorder, and will appear tomorrow (Friday, Oct 1).

I was looking at the weather forecast for the next two weeks, and noticed something interesting. Every Fall we seem to have a period of warm weather and high humidity, as the seasons begin the process of changing. During the summer months, there is a very stable, and unmoving high pressure area over the Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and southern Nevada area, which keeps our southern half of California from getting any showers.

The Gulf of Alaska continually spits out little weather disturbances, shoving them down along the Pacific Coast. Without the high pressure area over the southwest, those storms would come further down the coast. When they begin to hit the rotational air currents, set up by the rotation of the earth underneath, the storms would turn east and pass over the San Joaquin Valley, dropping rain showers as they pass over.

But the high pressure forces these storms to turn east much sooner, usually around the Seattle area, and they go across the face of the US from west to east, over Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, and on toward the East Coast. They get showers all summer, as these disturbances pass, while California basks in the sun. And often bakes in the sun.

This time of year, as the high over the southwest is beginning to dissipate so that the Gulf of Alaska can send those storms further south and put some moisture into the Valley, things get weird.

The Gulf of Mexico, as well as the Gulf of California, will have a variety of tropical and sub-tropical storms sloshing around down there. As the southwest high begins to break up and change, the humidity from the tropics can be pushed north, coming into California over El Centro and Mexicali, and often being shoved all the way up into the San Joaquin Valley. But the summer heat hasn't gone away yet, and now we have high humidity combined with high temperatures and it is miserable.

Of course, the folks on the east coast laugh at us complaining about that two-week period when we have to deal with something other than our "dry heat." But, delightfully, it soon passes and we get to have a long, fantastic Fall, with comfortably warm days, and great-sleeping-weather nights.

And, as I said earlier, the long-range forecast shows we will have some of those tropical clouds pushing up from the south until after this coming weekend. By about Monday of next week however, it looks like both the days and nights are going to be bright and clear. Mid-70s to mid-80s for daytime highs, and even some mid-40s at night. Yep, Fall is just about here.

Hot Weather Again - Right on Schedule

Here comes the heat again, right on time. Seems that nearly every year the first part of October is hot, but nights are really nice. And, here it is.

The leaves of the Sycamore trees in the river bottom are beginning to show some color at last. During the spring and much of the summer, they are a vibrant green. Now most of those bright green leaves are taking on a rather dusty look. They appear almost as if a dusting of soot or some other fine powder had settled on them dulling the green. They aren't turning bright yellow as they do prior to fluttering to the ground. But the yellow colors are coming very soon.

I finished the Old Pick series today, and will submit it to the Recorder this afternoon. I want to let it "rest" in my mind a bit, then go back and read it again. It seems I always find something to edit if I look carefully.

I have had the greatest delight hearing so many nice comments from readers about these tales about a goofy old mule. People have stopped me in restaurants, in a meeting or in a store, and made nice comments about the latest story, and the series in general. If you are one of those folk who've shared with me, I thank you very much.

The bridge over our irrigation ditch is supposed to be fixed tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon. Sharon is well ready, as she has been so used to walking out the back door to the cars, not out the door, around the house and half way down the hill to the cars.

Some mornings when she leaves for work it is exceptionally dark, as the dawn in the east has not broken and the moon is already down. I put on a headband light (it looks so fashionable) and go down with her. It's not that she is really afraid of the dark. As she puts it, "It's those critters I can't see that worry me."

Last night we returned home about 8:30 p.m. As we drove up the drive, one of our neighborhood friends, a skunk, (Pepe LePew as my mother used to quip) was making his or her way through the grass away from the road. I parked below the bridge, and we started up the drive conversing about the various critters of the night. I pointed out they could see much better in the dark than she, and all they'd do would be move away from us. She was still concerned for we hadn't remembered to take a light with us.

However, with any luck at all, we will get the bridge fixed tomorrow, and that will solve the problem.

The Fire on Black Mountain book will not get another reading until next week, as our Wednesday night critique group has a conflict this week. I'm hoping to get some time in the next day or two to continue preparing chapters for reading to this wonderful bunch of professionals. They have provided me with so much help and so many wonderful ideas. I am very grateful to each of these women for their assistance, and teaching.

I am impatient to finish this book. I am determined to get through it once more, editing and tweaking every word. When that is finished, I'll prepare to submit it to publishers in hopes of attracting someone to put it in print. To hold in my hands a finished book which I have crafted ... with my name on the spine ... what an experience that will be. Some day.

And maybe you'll get to read it yourself one day. I sure hope so.

Some Moon, huh?

I've been thoroughly enjoying the gorgeous full moon the last couple of nights. I think it's spectacular.

I came home from a meeting last night about 9:15, and being blessed (?) with the opportunity to walk in the moonlight to get to the house .. well the bridge is still out and we have to park half way down the hill .. or is that UP the hill ... oh well, I digress. Walking up the hill in the moonlight, I was struck by the sharpness of the shadows cast by the two trees east of the broken bridge.

But, the new culvert pipe for the bridge was delivered yesterday, so we are indeed making progress. My backhoe guy said Wednesday evening he thought he'd get here on Tuesday next week to dig out the old one, and put in the new. Not too much more inconvenience.

Then this morning, when my bride tooled off to work at about 5:45 a.m., I walked with her to the car wearing a headband with a light on it so she can see to walk. Now it's not like the road is going to disappear, or there are any obstructions hiding along the way. But she wants to be certain there are no snakes, or maybe a wandering skunk. I have to admit, we've smelled one several times in the past 10 days or so.

On the way back to the house, I turned off the light as I much prefer the darkness and using whatever light is available. I was surprised that the moon, now much lower and in the western sky, was still bright enough to cast a very distinct shadow. And of course, Mars was hanging around brightly. Beautiful stuff that.

I was reading a blog posted by folks involved with the fire service, mostly from CalFire, and was a bit surprised to read their opinion that the fall mey be long, dry, and dangerous from a fire standpoint. Not that I want to see fires, but maybe I'll get to go on another fire before the season ends.

Well, I need to write another Daunt to Dillonwood column this weekend. I have a couple more short adventures with our mule Pick. I think I'll finish up with him for October 1st, and then look for a new subject for the 15th.

If you're reading this, and don't get the Porterville Recorder, and would like to read my Daunt to Dillonwood columns, drop me an e-mail, or just comment here, and I'll be glad to include you on my list. I copy and paste it into an e-mail and send it out that way. No big deal to add you to my address list.

Is it Fall, or Summer, or Indian Summer, or ???

Hey if you don't like the weather, wait a few minutes and it's sure to change. But I know you've noticed the change in the nights. Oh yes, much better sleeping weather. When I put the dogs out this morning, padding around barefoot to do so, the concrete on the patio was downright cool.

Those buzzards around the Barn Theater? They're still gathering. Don't think they want to get too spread out, though. I suspect that when the weather truly changes, it's going to do so, both literally and figuratively, overnight. It'll be 85 one afternoon, 35 that night, and 55 the next day.

The Sycamore trees in the river bottom on upper Globe Drive are just starting to show the occasional yellow leaf. Once that begins, the water in the river will certainly start picking up in volume. It has stayed at a good flow all fall so any improvement won't be that noticeable.

My hummingbirds have told me it's getting to be fall, too. I have six one-quart feeders hanging on my front porch, drawing around fifty to sixty birds every morning and evening. During the day it is not at all unusual to see ten to 15 flitting in and out around the containers. About a week ago, maybe more like ten days, I was filling all six feeders on very close to once a day. If I filled at 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. I would surely need to refill before morning. And if the evening was busy and I didn't get to it, I'd have to fill before daylight when the birds began venturing out once again.

Interesting though, that rate of filling only lasted about four or five days and then it started stretching back out to around thirty hours between fillings. Today it is going to be closer to thirty-six hours or more.

Spent the day yesterday volunteering labor to install a video line at the Women's Alliance in Bakersfield, where middle son Louis, is Executive Director. "Dear Old Dad" gets the nod when little jobs like this need doing, and frankly I'm glad to do them.

The broken bridge over the ditch is not going to get fixed until after the weekend. The new culvert pipe was supposed to be delivered yesterday, and is supposedly "on the truck" for today. Of course, it was also "on the truck" for yesterday, so no real explanation about why it didn't get "off the truck" into my pasture yesterday. Oh well, guess it will show up in time. It's supposed to be here today, so they say.

The backhoe guy is probably going to be Tuesday before he can get here to dig out the old one, dig out more to put in the new one, set it in place, and back-fill around it. Then we can drive to the garage again. My bride of 45 years lamented to Louis recently, "I never realized what a luxury it was to be able to park in front of my house, and not at the bottom of the hill."

Hang in there Dear. Help is on the way.

The Quad Adventure

Long day, but home and back after it today, up way too early to be comfortable.

Because the bridge over the ditch is not passable, we are parking below the ditch, so I left everything in the truck last night. This morning it took 3 trips to haul everything up to the house on the quad. But it all got delivered.

And, the big metal culvert pipe to replace what has been in the ditch for probably 75 years, is due to be delivered Wednesday evening. The backhoe guy is to call me tonight, and we'll coordinate when he can put a crossing over the ditch back into operation.

A couple of years or more ago, I bought an old beater of a quad, which has turned out to be one of the better buys I have made. It saves a bunch of steps, and when you are running from the barn back to the shop, or from somewhere up on the hill back after a wrench or tool, it is invaluable.

I had a little drainage ditch up on the side of the hill I wanted to check on this morning, so hopped on the quad and started up the hill. At the first steep spot things got ugly! With a bang and sound that makes your stomach churn, it was obvious that my handy quad had a serious illness of some sort.

Exploring the possible problem, I discovered the chain had come off and had banged around a little, then bound up between a guard and the chain gear. Needing tools, I left it and walked back to the house, reminding me why I really like riding the quad on that journey.

A pocket of tools, not sure what exactly I needed, and another walk back to where my mechanical steed was parked sideways on the hillside, and I was ready to try to get the chain back on without doing damage. After about 15 minutes of prying, twiddling, and mumbling under my breath, the chain was back on the gear, but obviously much too loose.

I went much more carefully up the hill, checked on what I had started to do in the first place, then back to the shop. After a good hour or more of learning how it all worked, I had the chain much tighter (but not too tight) and everything buttoned up.

After a quick run down the drive, zig-zagging past the problems with the bridge, I checked the chain. It had settled into a good tension and appears to be ready to work again.

It is amazing how much we get used to having our conveniences.

Sunday From Napa

Yep, up in Napa visiting kids. Overcast here today, a spitting sprinkle, but not really rain. Just practicing I guess.

The last of the week was indeed hectic, with the preparations for being gone until Monday evening. But Wednesday night I took Chapter 2 of Fire on Black Mountain to the critique group, and as usual got some wonderful suggestions, and some positive comments. I did some of the editing on it on Thursday but there was not enough time to finish all the suggestions. Often the gals will make word cuts, or comma deletions (I tend to throw commas out like I was feeding chickens corn) and minor suggestions. Sometimes they will make a change in the order of a sentence and make it read SO much better.

Saturday I was out of the house in great time to be on the road for Sacramento by 5:15 a.m. In fact, I was about 3-4 minutes early. Because the bridge is out over the ditch, I had allowed a little more time, so felt so very smug driving out early. Until I got to the end of the drive and turned onto Globe Drive I felt smug. That was when I realized I wasn't wearing my glasses.

By the time I had hurried to the house to get the glasses, and back to the truck to leave, I was 5:18 a.m. when I hit Globe Drive, and frankly that was still a great time. Traffic was no problem, and 4:20 later I parked in W. Sacramento for my monthly meeting.

When the meeting adjourned at 4:00 p.m. I still had a couple of things to do, and didn't get on the road for Napa until 4:30. But in only about 1:15 I pulled up in front of the kids house. Ross and Jane were also visiting, so we had a great chat, a wonderful dinner that Justin and Allison fixed, and by 8:00 I was fading fast, for I had been awake at 4:00 a.m.

Today we took it slow, starting out with a bit of breakfast here, then went up through Napa Valley, visited the Bale Grist Mill and even bought some Polenta and some Buckwheat flour to take home.

Back into the lower valley to Dean and Delussa, for a deli sandwich, and a gooey treat from the bakery. Then it was back here.

Justin has to leave for Oregon in the morning, and I am in no hurry as I don't need to be in Vacaville until 9:00 or so at the earliest. Then at 1:30 I will speak to the Residents Association for about 30 minutes and hopefully by 2:15 or so I can be on the way home. Depending on whether I make a dinner stop on the way home, I should be home by between 7 and 8 p.m.

This next week I hope to get the bridge fixed so we can once again drive up to the house and not have to park half way down the hill. But hey, it could be worse I suppose.

I've been checking on the fires and there seem to be a bunch, but all little stuff. Oh well, I'm ready, even if it turns out to have to be next year.

Wednesday is Better

Today has been MUCH nicer. Started the day with a clean bill of health from my Urologist who checks my Prostate.

Then ran a couple of errands in town, and returned home.

I am contracted with USFS and CalFire, so am waiting on pins and needles for the phone to ring hiring me to go to the Canyon FIre up the Kern Canyon from Bakersfield. But ... because it's still not ringing, it must still not be you.

I spoke with another man who lives in Camp Nelson who was also on the Post Fire I went to down by Lebec. He hasn't gotten called either, so we suspect that either A) we are near the bottom of the rotation list, or B) they haven't gotten to the point they're ready to hire Runners.

So tonight, assuming no calls in the next hour, I take Chapter 2 of Fire on Black Mountain to my critique group. They have been an immeasurable help, and I am determined this trip through to get it finished, and start sending it off to publishers.

Some Tuesday

Well, it has been one of THOSE days around here.

First, I had to go catch the UPS guy this morning to get a set of Nomex (fire clothing) from him, so that if I were called by USFS or CalFire, I'd have all my gear. I do now, ... but I wasn't.

So, the guy calls saying my load of hay will be here "... in about 2 hours." That was precisely at 12:18 p.m. The truck got here about 3:00 and the squeeze-loader, who puts it in the barn a stack of 64 bales at a time, made it about 5:00 p.m.

On the way out, we discovered the truck's weight had caused an old-old pipe under the road at the ditch to finally collapse. So ... the truck was driven out OVER the hole (straddling it with a neighbor guiding me) and got it on the downhill side. When Sharon came in she parked there too, so at least we can get out, but not without walking down the hill.

And, as I am making calls to see who can come and fix the problem, dig it all out and put in a new culvert, I learn that everybody that has a backhoe, also has a water truck, and USFS has contracted with them to take the water truck to the fire in Kern Canyon.

Well, doggone guys! I'm ready too! No calls yet for a messenger, though I am contracted and did go to the Post Fire down by Lebec.

But, looks like it will be AT LEAST 3-4 days AFTER the fire before the backhoes can get around. So ... we walk.

But at least I got my hay for winter in the barn.

Too-Friendly Neighbors

Just like a Bobcat that comes too close, the wily coyote can be even more of a threat. Where a bobcat might come in fast, strike and get out, the coyote is a little more liable to take his time and look things over, then make his move.

Now I enjoy seeing the wild critters around the house, but when they show up too near the front door, it can be disconcerting to say the least. Especially when two of our three dogs are meal-size chihuahuas. Tinker Bell in particular, a tiny 4 1/2 month old mini, would be no more than an hors d' oeurve for a hungry coyote.

Today, about 12:30 p.m., I was filling hummingbird feeders and looked around the ranch as I was walking back and forth. Down in the irrigated meadow below the barn, I spied our overly-friendly coyote unconcernedly looking around the pasture. The animal was headed in a northeasterly direction, which would have sent it passing in front of the barn, and on toward the hill, probably going north through the horse pasture, and on to the north where the nest must be.

The next trip, I looked where I expected to see the traveling coyote to no avail. Nowhere was the animal to be seen, at least in THAT direction. I walked toward the end of the house. Going across the face of the hill, no more than 150 feet from me, was the large coyote, very placidly strolling along. He was obviously heading for the back field, but passing close enough to the house to be a serious risk to the little dogs had they been outside.

Saturday evening we were returning home from Porterville when a nearby neighbor called, saying that Beau (the big boxer) as well as Coco (the larger of the two chihuahuas) were really barking excitedly. Beau barks because he can. But Coco is much more reserved, and only barks when there is really something to bark at. Since we were at least 15 minutes or more from home, he hot-footed it across the hill, to check things out.

When we arrived home, everybody was safe, but Beau was panting as if he had been running hard. Obviously he was both out of breath from barking, and still excited about something.

I suspicioned it was either the cat or possibly the coyote, but now I am quite sure it must have been the coyote. This morning when we let the dogs out, Beau made a circuit of the patio area, sniffing and stopping in a couple of places, as if the offending critter might have "marked" the property. Of course, that by itself would have had Beau apoplectic.

Coyote are bright, inventive creatures, and I suspect he could see the dogs were corralled and came to investigate. My guess is that the coyote came within a very few feet of the side of the kennel, which just inflamed the dogs inside. Fortunately, they can't get out, and the coyote can't get in. At least I HOPE he can't get in. It's quite sturdy, with a concrete base and pipe and chain-link sides that are 6 feet high, so I don't think that is really a question.

But boy it sure upset my dogs when that brave, overly-friendly coyote came calling.

Buzzards, Tarantulas, and Yellow Leaves

Well, it seems that Fall may be closer than we might think. A couple of days ago, I noticed that the big Eucalyptus trees south of the Barn Theater on Plano were full of roosting buzzards. Sometimes the buzzards will begin "practicing" for their migration south, and come and go from those trees for a week or so, even longer, before they head south.

But tonight, as I returned home from Porterville, I noticed a group of 20 or more buzzards working around in the river bottom just west of Worth Road and Highway 190.

Then as I was fueling up at Eagles Nest above the lake, I looked out to the north, over the river-bottom, and found another 20+ birds working around the area.

So, what does all this mean?

It is a well-known fact that the buzzards usually have a better idea when the first storm will be arriving than we do, and will gather all their relatives, in-laws, and out-laws, and head south at least two to three weeks before it turns cool. So does that mean that we are going to have an early Fall?

Well, this is the 12th of September, essentially half way through the month. My Dad used to say that the perfect grass year for the cattle would be to have: "Rain on Halloween, green grass for Thanksgiving, and fat cows for Christmas." And Halloween is only six weeks (give or take a day or three) away.

Another early-season indicator was the Tarantula spider. If you saw a Tarantula "heading for higher ground" you better get ready for a good rain.

One of my indicators I have always watched are the big green Sycamore leaves along the river bottom along upper Globe just after you cross the bridge. When the green leaves begin turning yellow, here and there throughout the tree, the water level in the river is sure to rise, for the trees are going to be using less and less water as the leaves yellow and fall. And, so far this fall I haven't seen a real indication of that, though the trees near my house are already beginning the early fall drop of leaves.

I guess the wisdom of Nature would be that Fall is just around the corner. Of course, since it's mid-September, that is pretty much a forgone conclusion anyway.

Big "Robert-Kitty"

Every once in a while here on our hilltop, we get a peek into nature. While fixing lunch today, as is my life-long habit I glanced out at the hills. (glancing, not lunch - though that too, I guess)

Motion caught my eye, and there was "our" big male bobcat that populates this area, trotting along outside my horse pasture (the 2.5 acre field in front of the house) and nosing around. He went behind a big rock and I lost him for a minute, then when I looked back, he was wandering along, looking for unsuspecting rabbits or squirrels.

It is always such a treat to see the big cat. He is approximately 18-20 inches tall at the shoulder, and a good solid 24 inches in length. It would be hard to estimate his weight very accurately, but I would guess a good 20-25 pounds. He would be a serious match for even a good sized dog.

Once about 6 years ago, Sharon and I saw he and his mate with two kittens. He studiously ignored the kids, sitting regally on his haunches beside them. But Mom was very watchful as they romped and played around in front of them. They were near a fence within 200 feet or less of the other house here on the hilltop, and could easily hear and see us. Obviously, they do not have any great fear of being around us.

We have a tiny Chihuahua, Tinker Bell, who is way too brave for her own good. When we let the three dogs out, I am a bit concerned this time of year especially, for both the coyote and the bobcat are seen too close to the house. A neighbor had a coyote come right into their yard and grab an adult doxy. Many stitches and a hefty vet bill later, the dog survived.

But, life on the hilltop means living in the presence of all manner of critters including snakes. But once in a while we get to see our more nocturnal neighbor, the one my brother Dale used to call a "robert-kitty."

Almost The Weekend

Another busy weekend is just ahead. It is pretty quiet today, but tomorrow I have to be the auctioneer at the annual Tulare County Historical Society BBQ. SInce I am First-VP, I guess it would be a good idea to show up!

Sunday is our monthly Speaker Breakfast, and I do the fliers and go up and set up tables and chairs at 7:00 a.m. then return later for breakfast and the speaker.

I spent some time yesterday editing and tweaking Chapter 1 of Fire on Black Mountain based on the critique and suggestions from the group. Now I need to get Chapter 2 ready for next Wednesday.

Earlier this week I had the chance to sit down with Doug and Joy Harvey. Everybody has done a story on Doug being inducted into Cooperstown, but I want to do a different perspective, one more family-oriented, how the two of them went through this together. The information gathered in that meeting will definitely become a Daunt to Dillonwood column in the future.

Daunt to Dillonwood - Column Comments

I have been so gratified by the many delightful comments received about the "Old Pick" stories. I am so glad you are enjoying them. It is a unique experience to walk into a restaurant or other public place, and have some kind soul comment, "I've really been enjoying reading your columns."

Looking forward, the next column (which will appear 9/17) will solve the mystery of the missing "hanging ham." But, I have had calls from family members reminding me of other adventures, and mis-adventures, with this most mischievous mule. He was indeed a character. I may have to solve the mystery on the 17th, then stretch it out at least one more column, to relate the stories. But, readers seem to be enjoying it and that's delightful to me.

The "Fire on Black Mountain" book, written about a 12-year-old boy, living on a cattle ranch in the foothills of the Sierra's in Tulare County (sound like anybody you know?) relates an adventure in a "coming of age" story. Parts of it have been read by youngsters, and gotten good "readability" scores from them.

I worked my way through it several months ago, writing and being critiqued by the group I attend, then got distracted by other projects. I realized I have left a good project unfinished, so as my post last night stated, I have begun the serious process of finishing it. Now ... if only a publisher will like it as much as I do.

Comment if you like, and check back once in a while.

Let's get serious

Tonight, I took the first chapter of my Young Reader book, Fire on Black Mountain, to our critique group. It is time to get serious about finishing the process of creating a book, and getting it published.