You will see some familiar machines in this video, because part of it was made at Rollag. We never get enough of steam shovels! Thanks to Merle for the link!
You will see some familiar machines in this video, because part of it was made at Rollag. We never get enough of steam shovels! Thanks to Merle for the link!
Plenty of good Shay engine action and whistle talk! Thank You, Merle, for the link!
...you count. I've been aggravated lately from a logging site on Fbook. People, (Trolls, I think.) keep posting photos of trees and saying ridiculous ages for them, like 500 year old oak trees that are obviously a fraction of that. I doubt any of them have ever counted tree rings. I've counted a bunch over the years, and it is important for foresters to do that whenever they encounter stumps in the timber they are walking. You have to know what sites will do, and stumps will tell you. This black oak in the photo was dying, and I cut in in 2009. It counted out 90 years. O.T. is the guy behind me with the walking stick. He was 89 at the time, and he made it to 90, too.
Another great suggestion from Merle! One of these vids was over at Boonville, IN. Thanks, Merle!
Merle found another place we've never heard of: Old Petrie Town in Queensland. Thank You, Merle! There are several videos available about activities here, so we will probably return.
I took a contract to bury the body of blasphemous Bill MacKie,
Whenever, wherever or whatsoever the manner of death he die --
Whether he die in the light o' day or under the peak-faced moon;
In cabin or dance-hall, camp or dive, mucklucks or patent shoon;
On velvet tundra or virgin peak, by glacier, drift or draw;
In muskeg hollow or canyon gloom, by avalanche, fang or claw;
By battle, murder or sudden wealth, by pestilence, hooch or lead --
I swore on the Book I would follow and look till I found my tombless dead.
For Bill was a dainty kind of cuss, and his mind was mighty sot
On a dinky patch with flowers and grass in a civilized bone-yard lot.
And where he died or how he died, it didn't matter a damn
So long as he had a grave with frills and a tombstone "epigram".
So I promised him, and he paid the price in good cheechako coin
(Which the same I blowed in that very night down in the Tenderloin).
Then I painted a three-foot slab of pine: "Here lies poor Bill MacKie",
And I hung it up on my cabin wall and I waited for Bill to die.
Years passed away, and at last one day came a squaw with a story strange,
Of a long-deserted line of traps 'way back of the Bighorn range;
Of a little hut by the great divide, and a white man stiff and still,
Lying there by his lonesome self, and I figured it must be Bill.
So I thought of the contract I'd made with him, and I took down from the shelf
The swell black box with the silver plate he'd picked out for hisself;
And I packed it full of grub and "hooch", and I slung it on the sleigh;
Then I harnessed up my team of dogs and was off at dawn of day.
You know what it's like in the Yukon wild when it's sixty-nine below;
When the ice-worms wriggle their purple heads through the crust of the pale blue snow;
When the pine-trees crack like little guns in the silence of the wood,
And the icicles hang down like tusks under the parka hood;
When the stove-pipe smoke breaks sudden off, and the sky is weirdly lit,
And the careless feel of a bit of steel burns like a red-hot spit;
When the mercury is a frozen ball, and the frost-fiend stalks to kill --
Well, it was just like that that day when I set out to look for Bill.
Oh, the awful hush that seemed to crush me down on every hand,
As I blundered blind with a trail to find through that blank and bitter land;
Half dazed, half crazed in the winter wild, with its grim heart-breaking woes,
And the ruthless strife for a grip on life that only the sourdough knows!
North by the compass, North I pressed; river and peak and plain
Passed like a dream I slept to lose and I waked to dream again.
River and plain and mighty peak -- and who could stand unawed?
As their summits blazed, he could stand undazed at the foot of the throne of God.
North, aye, North, through a land accurst, shunned by the scouring brutes,
And all I heard was my own harsh word and the whine of the malamutes,
Till at last I came to a cabin squat, built in the side of a hill,
And I burst in the door, and there on the floor, frozen to death, lay Bill.
Ice, white ice, like a winding-sheet, sheathing each smoke-grimed wall;
Ice on the stove-pipe, ice on the bed, ice gleaming over all;
Sparkling ice on the dead man's chest, glittering ice in his hair,
Ice on his fingers, ice in his heart, ice in his glassy stare;
Hard as a log and trussed like a frog, with his arms and legs outspread.
I gazed at the coffin I'd brought for him, and I gazed at the gruesome dead,
And at last I spoke: "Bill liked his joke; but still, goldarn his eyes,
A man had ought to consider his mates in the way he goes and dies."
Have you ever stood in an Arctic hut in the shadow of the Pole,
With a little coffin six by three and a grief you can't control?
Have you ever sat by a frozen corpse that looks at you with a grin,
And that seems to say: "You may try all day, but you'll never jam me in"?
I'm not a man of the quitting kind, but I never felt so blue
As I sat there gazing at that stiff and studying what I'd do.
Then I rose and I kicked off the husky dogs that were nosing round about,
And I lit a roaring fire in the stove, and I started to thaw Bill out.
Well, I thawed and thawed for thirteen days, but it didn't seem no good;
His arms and legs stuck out like pegs, as if they was made of wood.
Till at last I said: "It ain't no use -- he's froze too hard to thaw;
He's obstinate, and he won't lie straight, so I guess I got to -- saw."
So I sawed off poor Bill's arms and legs, and I laid him snug and straight
In the little coffin he picked hisself, with the dinky silver plate;
And I came nigh near to shedding a tear as I nailed him safely down;
Then I stowed him away in my Yukon sleigh, and I started back to town.
So I buried him as the contract was in a narrow grave and deep,
And there he's waiting the Great Clean-up, when the Judgment sluice-heads sweep;
And I smoke my pipe and I meditate in the light of the Midnight Sun,
And sometimes I wonder if they was, the awful things I done.
And as I sit and the parson talks, expounding of the Law,
I often think of poor old Bill -- and how hard he was to saw.
from BALLADS OF A CHEECHAKO by Robert Service
Well, I need to get wood. Happy Solstice!
Thank You, Merle! We love the rhythm of this old beauty!
Follow this LINK to see video.
Cash in all of your retirement accounts and get in line. Many Thanks, Merle, for spotting!
This is one of the cherrybark oaks we dropped in the thinning project last summer, from a segment of a longer video we uploaded in July 2023. The tree we drop lodges in another, but only on one side, creating torque that is wanting to roll the tree to the right. This throws compression on the right side of the hinge and tension on the left side. Carefully nipping out the hinge from left to right allows the tree to roll as the hinge is removed without pinching the bar, but be careful. Stand to one side as you do this in case the tree breaks loose and shoots back. Cutting the hinge on lodged trees commonly ends with the saw stuck between the butt of the tree and the stump, so analyze the situation carefully before you try this. If this tree was being harvested for a log, you would have your skidder available to dislodge it. If you are cutting it for firewood, you could take it down by cutting segments about four feet long, starting with the tree attached to the stump. We have covered that technique in other videos...LINK. That method is time consuming, but safe if you plan each step.
Here's another blowdown to work on. I think the compression coming back down the stem is greater on top, so we will start there and watch the kerf carefully, with wedges at hand to keep it open. I will work on the side with the first tree against it and we will see how it goes.
Back To The Old Grind!
Here is something you won't see every day, and you even get to see the grit selection used for the process. Many Thanks to Merle for spotting this one!
Decisions, Decisions. This is good wood, but I will have to carry all of it up that ravine bank to get it out. Can I do it? Stay tuned!
Checking it out at low pressure after rebuild. Thanks, Merle!
From the 1966 TV cartoon, How The Grinch Stole Christmas.
Actually, they came to Marion, an hour down the road. It was worth the trip to see them, and to learn a bit.
Rocco, one of the Wheel Horses.
A question on my mind was how these big guys are shod so they can navigate paved roads without slipping. The shoes have Borium brazed on the bottom. Borium saves wear on the shoes and it is grippier on pavement than steel. The Clydesdales cannot go on polished concrete, so the arena they were in had Astroturf where the horses needed to walk. Smooth, decorative brick streets are dangerous, but navigable if care is used.
This was our first time planting a new pole in the ground, and it went according to plan. The light and guy line go up next.
It does sound pretty, doesn't it? Thank You, Merle!
We featured the Dance Macabre by Saint-Saens by several artists during October. Saint-Saens wrote much more, and this one is a good sample. Grab a cup of coffee.
There are no college classes on how to do all this. You have to learn it at SHK. A glaring gap in this video is the making of the beverage end, but it's a good vid. Back To The Old Grind!
This one is guaranteed to give you a modicum of vertigo. I don't know how he does this. I would have to belly crawl if I found myself up there.
Let's start out with the Charlie Brown Christmas Album. Grab a cup of coffee and CLICK HERE.
Polyester is a bad idea if you are around heat. I was on many fires in Kentucky while wearing the KDF uniform, with poly in the trousers and shirts. The bosses did not want anyone wearing blue jeans because that would not look professional. They eventually let us wear Carhartt pants, and they issued a small number of Nomex pants for fire fighting. I think the overalls are a great idea because you don't have to hitch up your pants all day long, and a trainman needs his watch within easy reach. Those upper pockets are handy.
Photo is Dusty's.
Merle found a great one for us, and it is a remarkable recovery of less-than-barn-fresh tractor find. Thank You, Merle!
This is a link to a Facebook post: Click Try as I might, I cannot figure out how to embed a Facebook video on Blogger. Anyhow, Merle found a good one, and the owner says the boiler is in very good shape.
A video on YouTube provides details. Thank You, Merle for spotting!
This photo of Susan and a cherrybark oak in the front yard was taken in 2000. We planted this tree as a twelve inch seedling in 1991 or 1992.
Look at it now! Cherrybark oak prefers 109 Raccoon soil here in Southern Illinois. Raccoon is a bottomland soil, but is not as tight as Bonnie and other bottomland soils. It functions like a transitional soil between slopes and the flattest bottoms. Cherrybark will grow well on Bonnie and also on many upland sites, so we used cherrybark seedlings in tree planting projects whenever they were available.
Eric Janssen, Arnhem, Netherlands is one of our Facebook friends. His faithful companion for more than fifteen years is Saartje, and now she has passed away, in Wallonia, Belgium. Eric and his friends around the world are heartbroken. Eric has started his first trip without Saartje with him on the Valer. The wheelhouse is empty and lonely. Visit his Facebook page and get to know him and his Schipperke. Eric has posted about their travels for many years. "Her little body had gotten so tired, that rest is here now. The loss is huge, it's terribly empty on board."
"I wonder why it is a dog don't get to live too long, but he still has to die old." Jim Stafford, Mr. Bojangles
I pass this spot frequently when I am going back and forth through the country. Last year, and again this year, poachers are dumping deer carcasses along the road. (Six in one spot this year.) These deer had only the best cuts taken out of them and they were not field dressed or skinned. It is maddening to know we have people of such low morals nearby.
but we put the replacement pole in the ground without any trouble. We used the old pole, steadied up with guy ropes and the loader, and lifted the new one with the RTV. Got it tamped in and next we move the hardware.
Hickories were golden, but now they are brown and dry. There is still color out there, but it is fading fast.
We got Mom (Bea Johnson to the Blog World) a cell phone more than twenty years ago. With unlimited minutes we could talk whenever we wanted, and Mom enjoyed calling her brother Chuck every week and talking as long as they wanted. After Dad passed away we never failed to talk at least three times a day, morning, after work, and before turning in. Our last call was Thursday afternoon last week, and we could tell that it was the end. Mom passed at 9:29 Friday morning, November 10, 2023.
When she was living alone in her house, she got nervous about being able to protect herself, so she took up shooting. We would go out to the local range every time I went to Iowa to see her, and she went to Reno a couple times to attend Mike Gallion's Gun Blogger Rendezvous. She took the Iowa concealed carry class and qualified with her .45 Blackhawk because that was her house gun, and the big cartridges were easier for her to handle than stuffing .22s into a magazine. I put together a small collection of photos for those who remember Bea here on our little blog.
We took a great timber tour with Ranger this morning. The dog sure does love going out for adventures.
Vincent Speranza passed this year on August 2. What a fine example of an American hero.
We've never been to this show, and it looks like a good one. Merle spotted it for us, and be sure to admire the big Vilter Corliss engine. Most of these big industrial engines were or are being scrapped, and we should rejoice for every one of them that is saved in the engine shows around the country. It takes knowledgeable, dedicated volunteers to move and restore these giants to running condition. Many Thanks, Merle!
This is just the latest example I have seen of deer wandering in close to running equipment. Yesterday Susan and I were running the log splitter, and Mama Deer and Baby came out and eyeballed us. Back in 1989 when we were prepping the Bull Springs field to plant, deer stood around watching while I drove the John Deere B back and forth across the field. They make all the fancy hunting gear seem a bit silly.
These trees have been dead just one year, but the sapwood is already going punky, so the hinge must be deep enough to get into the heartwood. If wedging is needed, make your falling cuts up the stem a foot or more from your girdling cuts.
Watch your topknot. Forked trees make a couple problems for forest landowners. A forked tree has less merchantable volume than a well formed, straight tree, and they are prone to breaking up in storms, or from ice. Any time a forked tree is up against a better one, it is good to take out the forked one and let the good tree grow faster. The hackberry in this photo has provided me with yet another widow maker to watch for. Always be watching overhead when you are in timber.
I took a little hike through the woods and stopped by the site of the sawmill that was here in 1940. The photos at the end were shot during the harvest we did in 2012. We are still amazed at the speed of our black oaks after we thinned out hickories. They grew like weeds after that treatment, and now the white oaks appear to be turning on after the woods was thinned by the harvest.
Remember when you were a kid, you were taught to always put the trademark up on a bat so you wouldn't break it? The trademark is oriented so the growth rings in the bat are horizontal and in line with your swing. Turn it 90 degrees and you really can break your bat. The same rule on growth rings applies to wooden tool handles, too. Internet sellers of tool handles are not paying attention to that. I was about to order a couple axe handles, and saw this photo on the page I was on.
Instructions for changing the heating element are to lift the drum out to access the element assembly. I had limited space, and I found a better way. Less disassembly = less chance of screwing up. Watch for sharp edges on sheet metal components.
Our hunter friend was on the other side of the pond today and saw more than twenty deer go by, including one he would have liked to bag, but no good shots were presented. Every time I looked across the pond I saw deer moving.
Big one (Lanz Bulldog), and a little one (Fairmont section car engine) Thanks to Merle for the Lanz link!
Read the words as the song plays. Guaranteed to bring a tear to your eye.
No hand cranking for this bunch. The folks who run Greenfield Grocery have a modern cider press with a hydraulic ram that gets every bit of juice from the apples.
Back To The Old Grind!
Ozzie's Oddities has some pretty neat stuff on YouTube.
Back To The Old Grind!
Susan and I both worked in the garden most of the day to make it ready for next Spring. Susan pulled plants and vines, I pulled fence posts and stakes. We pulled and stacked the cardboard that we used to control weeds, burned it, and then tilled. After we finished videoing we spread mushroom compost and tilled it in.
This beautiful guy was out in late afternoon, and he was being a bit too visible for a critter with nice antlers. We had the dogs out in the yard and conversed while he poked along the edge of the pond. The bucks with bigger antlers coveted by trophy hunters don't make themselves so available. Know your hunting places, and understand the animals you hunt. This deer knew we were there, at 200 yards, and was not alarmed. At 100 yards deer become alerted, and a wrong move will alarm them. Bowhunters are out now, but they don't alarm the deer herd to any great degree. Nighttime road hunters educate the deer to react and run. Illinois' first firearm season begins in three weeks, and deer behavior will change markedly when that happens.
The neighbor across the road harvested this soybean field this evening and was finishing up at dusk. Ranger and I went out to watch and boy was it dusty. You could feel the grit on your eyeballs. It takes a lot of acres to pay for machines like this big, tracked, John Deere.
Valinda Rowe of Illinois Carry provides some information on the status of heinous legislation that was dropped on Illinois residents in January. When she talks about vagueness, you must read and understand the law to see just what that means. Semi-autos with a barrel shroud are outlawed. The definition the law uses is any covering of the barrel that would protect your hand from being burned if the barrel is hot, so any stock that covers part of the barrel forward of the receiver makes the gun illegal, and the stock would then be an illegal assault weapon attachment. Any attachment you can grasp with your support hand is an illegal assault weapon attachment, so a bipod or rifle sling are both outlawed if the IL State Police take the law at its word. It is a mighty big can of worms. Here's Valinda:
And it appears to be running a bit rich. I am sure they have it sorted out by now. Thank You, Merle!
The famous corncob pipe company celebrated their 150th year four years ago and opened up the factory for tours. I used to see these pipes in stores, and in use while I was growing up. Not so much anymore, but seeing this reminded me of a little excerpt from a poem:
There's nothing like Nickyteen, me boys,
Be it pipes or snipes or cigars;And you cannot go there. Oh Well. You would have to visit California to see it.
British steam engines in their natural habitat.
There are still some machines out in the wild that need to be saved. That is remarkable because collectors have been working for many decades to get engines. You would think that the ones stuck away in buildings would all have come out by now, but surprises keep popping up. Many Thanks to Merle for spotting this one for us!
We love watching the sky every day. I think living in the mountains out east enhanced our desire to watch the sky, because we seldom saw a sunrise or sunset while we lived in Eastern Kentucky. Today we had a couple of nice treats. There was a layer of stratus all day that you can see moving off to the east, then a clear band, then a second layer of stratus with the cold front pushing through. The sunset at the end was spectacular.
Gas engines are more fun if they are running something. Water pumps are popular for that at engine shows. This one has a water meter with the little spinner going round and round.