Coop's Corner: What To Call This One?

Sunday, February 23, 2014

What To Call This One?

Tired would be accurate; tired and still sore this Sunday morning. Friday's effort with the driveway was humbling with the F350. The rain that had turned to ice and then 8" of new blowing snow on top of everything brought us conditions that left our driveway in its worst shape in the 20+ years we've been rural.

Before we get to the bad news, here's the lovely sunrise good news, at least some very pretty news from yesterday morning. Normally when our woods get this winter colorful, there are (and they remain) warm temperatures, either that or very heavy fog. Thursday night's storm left us with a quick freeze and as such, even today, 60 hours later, our poor living woody plants are carrying loads they weren't meant for.

Saturday morning, sunrise time behind the house. The doe was out, ready for some morning sun and waiting for her friends up in the woods......then never ventured out into the open, soon this one turned around and joined them. I was getting coffee'd up and gathering courage to finish the rest of the driveway using the snowblower.

Even the moon came out to face the sun, funny how the moon does that......

Friday afternoon's snow removal effort managed to clear an area up by the house and I started down the driveway, but things didn't go well. The rain that came early put down a layer that reached up and iced the first few inches of snow after it got colder. (there are 3 vehicles in this image)

Walking down behind the snowblower in this photo and out to the area that I had to stop on Friday afternoon, retreating back to the house, this almost an uh-oh happened when I got the truck a bit off the driveway and into the pampas grass.......the truck got itself out. It would have been a bad one.

50 feet beyond this one I did the same thing on the other side of the drive. Trying to open things up and get wider, the truck got off the edge into a No Plow zone. The truck managed to wiggle out of this one too.

Notice the wet spot ahead, water flowing under the snow that once exposed from the plow, turned to ice. The little chunks across the width of where I'd plowed the day before are a bad sign for those of you that don't plow everyday.....little ice balls rather than a nice clean shear from the plow's blade. Just barely around the corner ahead was where I stopped with the Ford F350 and will now begin with the Craftsman 9hp/28inch.

I've worked my way around the corner, down across the concrete slab (where the wet spot is) and begun the slow and arduous notch up to the road. I will let good old gravity help me once up there, working down the slope from the road and do small sections. Notice that I'm not really able to scrape down to the previous hard surface; there's a couple inches of crunchy beneath that I'm leaving and will get later with the truck. Those of you with extensive 'blower experience will know what this means and will understand the exercise I'm about to receive.

I looked back at the photo data and will time stamp these images, this one is 9:24

See those 4" thick sheets on top? The ones higher than the blower housing that continue to crumble off and fall after I've passed??

Here we are up on the road at 10:10, me very proud, Gold Medal proud, though bracing for the worst part yet to come. Note the snow fence down there, now a hidden decoration.

10:34

Back to the house for more fuel

I managed to disturb the Mode wheel on the camera getting it out of my pocket and picked a B/W shot. 11:44, feeling only a bit of relief. This section is historically the very worst.

12:24, no breaks or stops, now I'm down to the serious part. It's a good thing snow removal is a hobby of mine. My Forward/Reverse shift count at this point was 437, 687 +/- 20

Now it's 1:10, I've busted through the ditch area and gone back up to the corner where I had to stop with the Ford. Tons of snow have been removed but the lane is far from 'clear' with lots of snow beside and still below.

In for lunch at 1:50 and then into the truck at 2:30 where I can sit down and my noodley feeling arms can turn a wheel, run a joystick instead of yank on handlebars. It's a walk-behind snow blower but it's far from just walking.

Cleaning off the access for our USPS Carrier, widening and scraping clean the rest of the driveway, opening up some extra width wherever I can get it.

I'm thinking about picking up a new hobby.

18 comments:

Martha February 23, 2014 at 8:55 AM
The allure of physical challenge never goes away for many of us. On MY level- I demand to shovel my own driveway just to do it. But this year I decided I didn't care, I just drive through the snow no matter how high it gets. Then a neighbor down the street asked if he could shovel my driveway "just for something to do". There is a pattern here in these northern states...
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Erik RFebruary 23, 2014 at 9:17 AM
I thought that muscling around my snow blower was a lot of work, yours looks twice as heavy as mine..I feel you pain! Clearing that driveway with a walk behind snow blower is like trying to fillet an elephant with a scalpel. Sure it can be done, but it will take forever... You need some heavy equipment for that driveway. Maybe some driveway improvements too.
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TrobairitzFebruary 23, 2014 at 9:44 AM
Geez Louise that is a lot of snow removal. I might be thinking of a condo at that point.

All worth it when you think of where you live and the beautiful peace and quiet of the country.

Do you have a hot tub you can relax in after all the back breaking plowing?

I like the black and white photo, it makes it seem more desolate.
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SonjaMFebruary 23, 2014 at 9:47 AM
This is looking like hard work. I am impressed. In your neck of the woods one obviously doesn't need a gym, the exercise comes with snow removal.
Beautiful pictures, all of them, but especially the magic moonlight photo.
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RichardMFebruary 23, 2014 at 5:35 PM
I used to live in an area that was outside of road service and if I wanted to reach the main road I had to clear the snow. Driveway and road was about 400' long and I really wore out the Craftsman track drive snowblower. I ended up rebuilding the drive three times as it just wasn't designed for that kind of use. And most pickup mounted plows aren't either. I still think of getting one as they occasionally hit Craigslist in the beginning of summer.
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DebFebruary 24, 2014 at 7:35 AM
Wow! That's a LOT of snow! And a LOT of work!

Hope you all don't get any more snow up there...
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UnknownFebruary 24, 2014 at 3:12 PM
Coop:

That is a long road you have to clear. You are sort of trapped without a way out if you don't have the right equipment to clear the snow. I hope you have a huge food supply and lots of fuel

I hope you get a chance to re-coop (as opposed to recoup) and relax before you head to work again. That is hard work

bob
A weekend photographer
or
Riding the Wet Coast
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VStar LadyFebruary 25, 2014 at 8:16 PM
Way too much snow for one man alone!
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)