English Country Estates and the USA

Once again WSF is going off the rails. You have been warned.

Some of the audio books I use to stay awake on my three day per week, 500 mile daily drive,  have me thinking about the decline of wealthy English squires, their landed properties, and lands that supported them.

 Huge estates with grandiose manors were reduced to ruins in just a few generations of careless inheritors. They seemed to regard their inheritances as an endless supply of resources to fund their spendthrift lifestyles. After a few generations of recklessness, along with high taxes, they find themselves out in the cold along with their tenant farmers. Surely, during the many years this was going on, numerous people tried to explain to them how this course of action would end.

Yeah, yeah, WSF, what is your point? 

The USA is the estate, and the various (P)gressives and Social Justice Warriors the new squires. The beneficiaries of extensive public educations and often trust funds, these people seem to think their country is a inexhaustible source of funding for their special snowflake schemes. Seemly, no amount of contrary opinion from their fellow citizens is heard.

I see hard times coming.  

ADDENDUM: Traffic shows several visits via Google UK. My apologies to our British cousins if the blog disappointed you.

Colorado Rail Museum

Visited the Colorado Railroad Museum in Golden, CO today. Lots of memories growing up along the Denver and Rio Grande when my father was a section foreman for 10 years.

First hit of nostalgia, the smell of creosoted railroad ties. The second, motorcars that I got to ride on as a kid.

Few things are securely locked and the only guards are volunteers. One can imagine Murphy's Law running amok.  http://lagniappeslair.blogspot.com/2016/10/water-dogs.html

However, one of his relatives must have been visiting.

Admittedly the "Keep" part is hard to read but the "Off" s quite clear.

Rather than clutter the blog, pictures are available on Dropbox.

https://www.dropbox.com/home/CO%20Rail%20Museum

The various "Galloping Goose" units are no prize for cosmetic construction, just hell for stout, and still usable. Rides were available on one of them today.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galloping_Goose_(railcar)

Bronco II Update

Working on cars isn’t my favorite activity. At age 72 it is also painful. This is balanced by my notorious cheapness. That said, the Bronco II needed a master cylinder replaced. Local shop wanted $100+. Simple repair and the auto parts store had one for $32.

First, we have to poor boy/lazy boy bench bleed.

Installed! This is no place for a good tight cross thread. Takes a little fiddling to get the threads lined up.

This always happens when I work on something. Your skin gets thinner with age I’ve been told.

Field expediency bandage.

Bleeder helper.

 The brakes work but the rig will go to a shop next week to have all the old fluid removed. I have a vacuum bleeder but hate crawling around on the pavement. It is worth it to me to take it to someone with a lift. Will probably cost me $50.

The next step is new shocks all around. About $130 for the parts. Know a guy who will do the labor for $20-30.

The old beast runs well, everything works, and the title is in my filing cabinet. Best part is the limited slip rear axle. 4x4 without a limited slip or lock up rear axle will get you well and truly stuck.

DYI Funerals

Swiped this off Facebook because it reminded me of my late father.

My maternal grandfather died in Cottonwood, AZ. The family wanted him buried in Walden, CO. My father borrowed a station wagon/hearse from the Mortuary in Steamboat Springs, CO. This was not the formal hearse but a utility vehicle. After loading an empty coffin he headed to Cottonwood.

Enroute the alternator failed and he had to stop in Kayenta Springs, AZ.No alternator was available and had to come from Tuba City, AZ. Since he had to wait,  he slid the coffin to one side, laid down, and caught some sleep.

Kayenta Springs is a Navajo town, and a tough town at that. This was prior to the coal mines and power plants.  Navajos have strong beliefs about death and dead people, as in they want nothing to do with them or anyone associated with them. Not dissing their beliefs but situations can become awkward. The alternator finally arrived but the repair place employees wouldn’t come near the station wagon or my father. Finally, with the intervention of tribal police (who also kept their distance) the staff put the  alternator and some tools where my father could reach them. He promptly made the necessary repair. There was more awkwardness as he returned the tools and paid for the alternator but he was soon on his way.

I’m sure the situation was helped by my father’s people skills and that he could get by in their language. He had a gift for languages and had Navajo work gangs while he was with the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. He was by no means fluent but had enough to communicate.

At Cottonwood, the remains were placed in the coffin and my father, mother, and her oldest sister made the drive back to Steamboat Springs.

My sister and I are descendants of a long line of hard nosed,  practical people. We learned most things are nothing more than a job of work. Some jobs are damned unpleasant, to be sure, but they nothing more than a job that needs to be done. So, in the words of Larry the Cable Guy, “Git’er done”.

Sugar Economics

One hazard of driving 11 hours is the time it gives you to ponder subjects that don't matter. In this case, the economics of sugar beet processing.

In Scottsbluff, NE there is a plant dedicated to processing sugar beets.

125 miles to the South there is a plant in Ft Morgan, CO.

So, what sense does it make to haul sugar beets from Ft Morgan to Scottsbluff?

This is the road I must share with these beet haulers.

These are some of the beet haulers.

These are the "good" trucks. Some of the junk individual farmers and independent truck owners run are downright scary. I speak from experience having worked as a truck driver one harvest some years ago. By some miracle I didn't hurt anyone or wreck a truck. I did have a tailgate failure and scattered 12,000 pounds of sugar beets along a three mile path. Oops!

Bad Cop, No Donut

0600 this am, Wheatland, WY observed a Platte County Sheriff 4 door pickup going East on Hwy 320 (main N-S commercial street). He changed lanes, turned right and then right again at MM78, merged on I-25 North and then exited at MM80. At no time, in any of these maneuvers, did he/she use the vehicle turn signal. Setting a good example?

A few months ago, in the very same locale and approximate time, a Platte County deputy gave me a thorough ass chewing about complete stops behind stop signs and proper use of turn signals. He was, of course, quite correct.

Yes, Sisty, I need to get a life.

Nostalgia

Helped a neighbor load an ice chest into her car and we started reminiscing about traveling as kids. She is around my age and was off to visit grandkids.

She remembered water bags instead of ice chests and that started me remembering trips to Arizona with my parents and my mother’s parents around 1952.

We had a 1949 Ford V-8 three speed manual with overdrive. That car would cruise all day long at 80 mph. My Dad would tie two canvas water bags on the front bumper guards. That water would get cool, almost cold, from evaporation and tasted so good on a hot Arizona day. One time one bag slipped and was drug many miles before we stopped. No water from that one. Looking back I realized  Dad was smart to have two water bags along with a  5 gallon Jerry can in the trunk. He respected the desert. Said he remembered training in the Mojave during WWII.

We stayed in motels on these trips but cooked all our meals over an open fire along side the road. You would expect something different from ranch people?

My grandparent sold their ranch outside Saratoga, WY and retired to Cottonwood, AZ.  By that time I was off doing Army stuff so my wee sister had the fun of trips through Moab and Mexican Hat or the Monument Valley to visit them.