Autumn Life

Thanksgiving Day Scene...

It's been entirely too long without a post. But Nature would be offended if I holed up and wrote instead of being outside, appreciating the good weather and absence of bugs. But now it's only astronomically autumn, the snow and the thermometer justifiably assert that this is, indeed, winter. We've had the first snowfall and several subsequent snowstorms. There's nearly a foot of new snow that fell yesterday, overnight...and it is still snowing. Single digit (above zero) predawn temperatures are occasionally forecast - and occasionally correct. It'll be a long time until spring, and the calendar isn't yet done with fall.

It may be cold but we have a cozy place to enjoy the scenic beauty and invigorating climate whilst awaiting the return of planting time. The changing of the seasons provides a background rhythm for life's arrangement. There are certain things, such as hole digging, that must be done before the ground freezes and some chores, such as tree harvesting, that are more pleasant in the winter. Thus, my schedule is commanded by nature, reassurance that a higher power is in control.

W demonstrating the proper snow-romping ear position

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I'm busier than I want to be, but still never in a hurry. Suzy tends to the horses, worrying about one getting too fat and the other getting too thin, what arrangement of blankets are needed overnight, the water levels in their (heated) buckets, something or other that must be urgently purchased, etc. The horse care-giving permutations are endless, resulting in an infinite potential for anxiety. I only see contented animals being doted on to further their contentment, which is why I'm unsuitable as a horse owner. In addition to the daily chores, she also knits for hours on end and reads the latest book specified by her book club. 

The EMT classes are in full swing. We meet twice a week, long evening hours at the Wilmington fire station, and longer study hours at home. It's a difficult class because there are many skills that have to be learned in the classroom, then relearned on patients in the back of moving ambulances. There are so many EMS calls in our district that I only respond to the ones nearby. As word spreads that I'm an EMT student, I'm asked to pitch in instead of just ride along and observe. Now I assist with the work as we respond and transport patients to the hospital emergency department.

A flipped van but no critical injuries.

There was a three car motor vehicle accident yesterday, but everyone was uninjured, no transport required. But EMS calls involve older patients. If they are stable it's interesting to chat with them on the way to the hospital and it makes the long and bumpy ride easier for them. Tall tales are part of the old logging tradition so it's easy to coax a story in the Adirondacks. All you have to do is mention something about one of the innumerable weather catastrophes (Irene or the '98 Ice Storm will suffice), deer (of course), school taxes, or the 1980 Olympics. Only the most seriously ill patients won't talk about one of those subjects. 

We had a fire call this week, the fire was in an abandoned building in our district and every department in a two-district radius was also paged out to assist. I asked one of the officers about the apparent overkill and he said that many homes (ours, come to think of it)  are far into the woods, and the extra tankers are needed to relay water. Oh.

I got to the station earlier than usual and upon arriving at the scene, the fire was already knocked down. The main tasks were ensuring there were no hot spots in the rubble, stowing hoses and refilling #345, our tanker. I was asked to park it in the garage, and I uneventfully backed it around a parked car. It wasn't precisely centered in the bay, but I didn't hit anything, either. 

I finally completed the Firefighter and EMT physicals, that was a chore, but I passed and I updated all the required immunizations, too. Now I can begin clinicals for credit. I'd like to ride with the City of Plattsburgh Fire/EMS, they get a lot of action, and one of the Advanced EMTs at AuSable is an officer down there. He said he could arrange it and I'm awaiting a time slot. I'll probably do the ED clinicals at Adirondack Medical Center,  a small hospital in Saranac Lake. But I still have many classes to go, the state exams are in April.

The old window and its replacement.

I installed  another window, this one is on the north side and it's at ground level so the job was relatively simple. The side door is also complete. We're awaiting one more window, on the south side, then our window project will be done for the season. The shed is slowly coming along, too. We installed some siding and a big window that we got for free after helping raise the roof on a run-in shed at the stables. I also started teaching a couple of classes at Ray Brook Federal Correctional Institute, the former Olympic village I mentioned in a previous post.

Where my math and electrical circuits students reside.

A federal prison is a most unhurried place, at least during normal operations. Punctuality is superfluous in an facility that basically exists to extract time from its inhabitants. Besides, the North Country isn't a temporal based culture, things happen much later than city people expect. Thus, it took months to be badged at 'the joint'. First were the requisite background and fingerprint checks - that should have been a simple lookup because I've held state and federal security credentials of one type or another for my entire adult life - but it took months. Then came a thorough orientation including what not to wear (certain sports logos are associated with gangs), how to operate the radio that must be properly holstered and carried constantly. (This week I even remembered to turn it on.) I was briefed on how to report an incident and various protocols, including the dreaded hostage situation and how family members can obtain the status of an 'event'. 

Anyhow, once cleared there was an abundance of interested inmates, enough to fully populate two classes, one in applied math and one in AC circuits. I teach both classes on Monday mornings, right after breakfast. It's surreal to be teaching vector math and trig to a roomful of convicted felons. But they are terrific students, totally engaged as an hour of their sentence flies by. Many of them go out of their way to thank me after class and say that they feel like they are learning something challenging. This is especially meaningful because, in prison, nothing is more important than respect.

Indian Summer

Summit of Silver Lake Mountain

...The killing frost for our short growing season arrived overnight on September 18. Thus began the vigil for Indian Summer. The origin of the phrase is lost to antiquity. It may be a prejudicial slur describing a deceptive or false summer. Perhaps it was inspired by ships that frequented New England harbors centuries ago. Some ships had hulls marked with "I.S.", denoting a higher than normal waterline (and heavier cargo) that was safe to carry for Indian Ocean summertime travel.

High pressure region rolls down from Canada and stalls Down East.

Its origin may be unfathomable but the definition of Indian Summer is clear. A killing frost wipes out the less-hardy plants and annihilates many noisome bugs. Then wood stoves are fired up, woodpiles are warily eyed as eternally inadequate, and - this is the important part - summer clothes are put up for the season. 

That's the signal for The Universe to conjure up a high pressure region that dips down from Canada and stalls off the east coast. This brings unseasonably warm and dry weather...and those shorts and t-shirts we just put up. And it resurrects some bugs, too. 

  

 

Woodman's Lee gets a mailbox.

Little is wasted here, so we exploited the glorious weather for outdoor work and recreation. I bought a big rural mailbox, but, after studying mailbox posts in the area, I designed and built my own post. The entire setup, including paint, mailbox, post and concrete, cost slightly more than just the prefabricated 'Mc- mailbox' style post at Lowe's.

 

One of the windows will be converted to a door.

Our next job, one that isn't complete, was installing an exterior door. We only had one egress door, which isn't safe, so we decided to convert a window to a doorway, adding more glazing in the process. This was a big job. After some demolition I was able to determine the rough opening and I placed the door order on Primary Day. Two weeks later it was ready for pickup and I began the tedious (at least, for me) framing work.

After window removal.

Once the rough framing was built, the door was temporarily installed. I needed to see that before figuring out how to construct the steps. After calculating the rise and run, I could place the location for a landing. Then I built a frame, placed it on the ground, marked the outline, dug out a space for the frame and used it for the concrete.  

A sturdy concrete pad with native stones.

Our local granite works offered all the scrap I wanted for free, so I gathered up some small (but heavy) slabs to embed in the concrete pad. A plain pad isinappropriate for  Woodman's Lee. Suzy nixed the granite idea, suggesting we simply harvest and embed some of the innumerable rocks on the property. That was a much better approach. We laid the stones into a relatively flat pattern then embedded them in concrete. The result looks fittingly rustic.

Door, steps and landing installed. Exterior and interior trim remains.

Framing a door involves seemingly endless iterations of squaring and plumbing. A six-foot level is essential for this job. Once everything was exactly level, square and co-planar I added reinforcing framing to strengthen it beyond what was necessary. Doors get a lot of abuse and I wanted this one to be able to take it. What a luxury to be able to work unhurried and uninterrupted by the need to stop, clean up, and commute to a job every day. 

I went to a local sawmill to get some true 2x4s, and that was an experience. The place was incredible, dozens of logs and a big saw in an open shed, lumber stacked neatly everywhere. I could spend an entire morning exploring the grounds. After we loaded up the lumber in the truck, I realized this must be a cash-only business - and I was short nine dollars. "No problem, just bring it by next time you're down here." Such is the level of trust in rural America.

Only real woodswomen split logs by hand.

Suzy is getting proficient with the splitting axe. She splits wood daily, adding to our growing stacks of cut and split firewood.

Forestry instructor Tom Bartiss teaches us how to safely fell a tree.

But it's not all work around here. Paul Smith's College is at the northern end of the park, they have many programs suited to this area - such as forestry. They had a fall homesteading festival, including a demonstration on how to safely cut down a tree. I was certain that, with all my tree-cutting experience, I wouldn't learn anything new. Actually, I knew all about how to do it...improperly and unsafely. This guy was an expert - he planted a flag as a target and the tree came down right next to it. It was a fine day on the campus, the weather couldn't have been nicer. 

The state of the wood-felling art is to make a 90 degree shallow notch at the hinge point and two plunging cuts in the middle of the tree, leaving a small section to saw through when you're ready to fell the tree. Felling wedges in the saw kerf provide just enough guidance to drop the tree on target. 

35,000 lbs of fire apparatus here.

We also attended a garlic planting seminar at Ward Lumber, as Suzy is planning to plant a big garlic (and shallot) bed. From there I went up to the firehouse for our weekly meeting, gaining more seat time by driving the LaFrance truck around Upper Jay. We went up Trumbull's Corners Road, a hilly and twisty road, where the fully loaded truck had to be floored to maintain 25 mph. I switched on the emergency lights when we passed the barn where we keep the horses just to get Donna and Wayne's attention. Alex, in the right seat, suggested we blast the air horn, too (I didn't).

View on the Catamount trail

We hiked Harrison Hill nearby, it's privately owned but the owner and the caretaker encouraged us to hike it. We've lived here awhile but I'm still surprised by the graciousness of our neighbors. There wasn't a view from up there, but after the leaves fall we ought to have a panoramic view of the Sentinel Range. We hiked Catamount Mountain, getting within a few tenths of a mile of the summit...then losing the unmarked trail. Going up would be no problem, as the summit is an obvious landmark. Returning would  be the challenge, as we'd somehow have to intercept the trail. This would have been a obvious place for a GPS waypoint, and if we were carrying a backup I may have done just that. But relying on only one GPS unit for critical navigation is irresponsibly dangerous.

Learning how to identify trees from naturalist Mike Wojtech 

We also attended a two-day seminar on tree identification at The Grange in Whallonsburgh. We started with a classroom session where a conservation biologist instructed us on tree bark structure and ecology. The next day a group of us hit one of the many Champlain Area Trails and began identifying trees. We did that for about 4 hours. Suzy understands the process better than I, she seems to have an instinct for identifying plants and animals. But even I can now distinguish an aspen from a birch (sounds easy, it isn't).

A bumpy ride for starting an IV, but three tries are permitted.

I'm beginning the EMT training this week and I went on a couple of ambulance calls to get somewhat up to speed. Our district is vast, so I only respond to the Jay or Upper Jay calls. My first EMS call was a fatality, and one of the guys remarked that it was hell of a way to start. Well, my first fire call involved two fatalities, so the trend is improving. 

My most recent call was around midnight Saturday. I did my best to assist two EMTs attempting to stabilize a semi-conscious patient having seizures while we transported him to a hospital in Plattsburgh. We got him there alive and he appeared to be stable when our four-person team was released an hour later. It was 3 am when I drove home on an empty highway and up our moonlit driveway. Suzy had a cozy fire going in the wood stove and the invisible beagle heaved a sigh amongst the depths of the couch. Our silent and peaceful cabin in the woods felt infinitely distant from the stress and chaos of a Priority 1 EMS call.

The Big Primary

We get $1M for a new fire station and Gov. Cuomo gets a jacket.

The Town of Jay held an important primary last week, coinciding with the Democratic primary for governor. 

Andrew Cuomo is our incumbent governor, here's a photo of him receiving a honorary jacket from one of our fire commissioners, Wayne Roberts. Cuomo alienated the rural areas by ramming through a foolish knee-jerk gun law (complete with a fatuous title, the SAFE Act) after the Sandy Hook school shooting. 

I'm no hunter or shooter but I expect leaders to govern with intelligence and principles. The law is a purely emotional marketing gimmick, pandering to uninformed voters. It's a mishmash of nonsense such as outlawing clips that hold more than seven bullets. When asked what people are supposed to do with their ten-round clips, he sheepishly suggested loading them with three fewer rounds. Um, who enforces this? 

The law also makes it more illegal (no kidding) to shoot first responders. I should be indignant, as a proud representative of last responders. (Everyone seems to arrive at the scene or  station before me.) What about us?

The most popular yard ornament in Upstate NY

Media overhype of outliers such as the Sandy Hook school shooting yields a perception that gun violence is a growing crisis, even though it's declined 75% in twenty years. Most fatal shootings are suicides. But emotions always trump facts. 

Gun violence is down sharply...therefore we need another gun law.

Even in an era of stupid, reactionary gun laws, the SAFE Act is singularly awful. It's so bad that the Veterans Administration declared it would violate the law and eighty percent of NY counties passed resolutions opposing it - some even directing their police departments to flatly ignore it. Sheriff's and psychiatrist's organizations overwhelmingly oppose it. The law is so poorly written that it ironically prohibits law enforcement to carry loaded weapons on school grounds. 

Upstate gun manufacturers, such as Remington, announced that they are abandoning NY because of the law virtually criminalizes their products. Thus far about 125 people have been laid off from Remington and ATI, with another 1300 employees on notice. I think they were looking for an excuse to move to a 'lower cost state', today's euphemistic reference to Right to Work states. Cuomo just handed them a gold-plated excuse, an example of poor leadership. Working class citizens must now bear the burden of the impact on the upstate economy.

But, no worries, it's so easy to claw back union-represented manufacturing jobs, right? Besides, the state will pay any price to preserve the really important jobs...such as those in the entertainment industry. Mr. Cuomo recently authorized a $16M corporate-welfare gift to CBS. In return CBS agreed to keep the Late Show in NYC, preserving 200 jobs ...downstate. 

CBS actually had no plans to move. But they will cheerfully use a $5M state grant to renovate the Ed Sullivan theater to Stephen Colbert's satisfaction. (We can expect a future grant to bankroll renaming the theater.) What a fine return on investment for CBS, which donated $45K to the Cuomo campaign - and, as if we needed one, another shining example of crony capitalism. CBS recently reported that government subsidies to corporations aren't worth the cost, but they had no ethical issues taking the cash. 

Mr. Cuomo's inept leadership created a opening for newcomer Zephyr Teachout to challenge him in the primary. She received the largest primary vote against an incumbent governor in NY history - winning Jay and all of Essex county, without even campaigning upstate!

Zephyr whats-her-name carries half the state, including Essex County.

With the state and federal government effectively controlled by outsiders there's a trifling interest in NY and national politics up here. There's more buzz over our town's Republican primary for highway department supervisor than the Democratic gubernatorial primary.  

Westport Town Hall. My partner, Larry, wheels a voting machine into the truck.

I worked as an Election Inspector in my home district last week. I also helped with the collection of voting machines scattered around little town halls and firehouses throughout Essex County. That job requires two-person teams, one Republican and one Democrat - third parties are disenfranchised - who pack up and haul all the paraphernalia required to run a countywide election. I suppose we're expected to watch each other and ensure no one fools with the machines. People around here are too honest for that. Besides, they have deep roots and were more interested in bringing a newbie up to speed on local affairs. 

The election inspectors and machine-haulers will be eliminated someday when everyone votes online or by mail. But such innovations move at a geologic pace in NY. For now, people such as myself can enjoy a thoroughly pleasant ride (with equally pleasant Republicans) on the county dime, ambling along scenic country roads, with occasional stops at little, quaint polling places. One of them was Mineville's fire station, where only two voters showed up on Election Day. My Republican teammate said that's because Mineville didn't have an important local race like we did in Jay.

I anticipated a low turnout at Jay.  I brought along a magazine (last week's Economist, salvaged from the huge box of discarded periodicals at the town dump) and the Kindle. Ha! It was busy non-stop and I soon returned all the reading material to the truck. Nearly every Republican in town voted, we used 200 ballots. Once again I felt like the clueless city-person, having no idea why the turnout was so huge. After all, The Repubs didn't have a primary for governor.

Glenn, Jay's Fire Chief, and Robbie, Upper Jay's Assistant Chief vie for "Highway Super".

That's when I realized that almost no one gives a damn about governors, Cuomo or his primary challengers - especially when there's a Highway Department Supervisor primary battle. State and national politicians are only accountable to their employers, certainly not the people in a county that represents one-half of one percent of the state vote. And, there's no corporate money (I hope!) involved in running a town garage supervisor campaign. Two candidates were vying for the Republican nomination. There will be Democratic and Independent candidates in the general election, and all three candidates have a real shot at the job. It's reassuring to see democracy in practice...perhaps it'll catch on elsewhere.

I know Glenn and Robbie, either one would have been an excellent choice. I was probably the only voter in town who was relieved to get a Democratic ballot so I didn't have to vote against one of them. 

Most Democrats were irate over "only" being allowed to vote in the gubernatorial primary. I was amused by that until I realized that they, not I, had the right priority.

I counted down the seconds and closed the voting machine precisely at 9:00 pm. Then we queried the machine for the results. Robbie (coincidentally pictured with Wayne and Cuomo above) won in a landslide. I announced the results to Glenn and his entourage. I was happy for Robbie but I felt bad for Glenn. I also read the governor's race results, Cuomo lost Jay but no one cared. 

On the dark, deserted drive home I reflected on how the Empire State could re-learn civics from one of its humble little counties. 

Late Summer Days

Suzy discusses moose and garden with our corn- growing neighbor

A week ago a cold front dropped down from Canada, temperatures plummeted from from the upper 70s to the mid 50s; summer is instantly over. Good! It's my least favorite season. I haven't seen (heard or felt) a mosquito, black or cluster fly for a week. These are the glorious days of pre-autumn and the leaves are beginning to turn.

Best of all, it's harvest time. One of our neighbors has a small cornfield and his sweet corn is the best. We stopped at a nearby orchard and their early apples I eagerly awaited were mushy and tasteless. A bad apple year is a one of life's enduring disappointments. All is well, however, the Courtlands I bought yesterday (for one-third of the dud's price) were excellent. Often, the less you spend, the better the produce. 

Stephen and Lily dig potatoes

Our potato crop was a success, also the kale, tomatoes and cucumbers. We'll need better sunlight next year for the crops that didn't quite make it this year, notably the carrots, squash and beets. Another garden will be comstructed in front of the cabin next year. It'll have to be fenced because we've seen critters around there.

Katherine on Twilight

The kids visited in late August, Stephen and Lily toured all over, including Montreal. Katherine spent most of her time in the saddle, riding both horses to her heart's content. The weather was warm and it was buggy, but they seemed to enjoy their visits. I finally scaled Jay Mountain but it was Suzy's second ascent. The view from up there was magnificent, you could see all the way to Lake Champlain with the Green Mountains of Vermont in the distance.

Katherine at the summit of Jay Mountain

We've plugged away at our wood-splitting and cutting. I still don't think we have enough for the season, but we have our backup heaters. I removed the V-joint paneling around a window on the south wall so I could assess the prospect of replacing it with a door. We can, so I ordered a door with a full glass panel. That will provide much more light and even though it's a door, it'll be far more energy efficient than the old window. I like the looks of those old windows but they are inefficient, and wasting heat means depleting our wood supply early. 

The families who are well into their second century here, such as the Coolidges, put up their firewood early, neatly, and directly in the sun to dry properly. Those who do a particularly fine job of it aren't averse to building it near the street so passers-by can see how sixth-generation Adirondackers stack their wood.

The Coolidge's firewood stack

Upper Jay's Chief, Jeff Straight, teaches firefighters how to run a pumper.

I finished my six-week firefighter pump apparatus class. I drove our American LaFrance tanker and even backed it in to the station, right between the lines - well, sorta. The NY state exam for the certification included a written and practical portion. For the practical, we drafted water from a 'crick' feeding the AuSable River, across from Sue Benway's farm. Then we pumped it between three engines, one each from Upper Jay, Jay and Keene. I warily eyed every new hose lay, dreading the effort involved in rolling up and re-stowing them. We strung out many large diameter hoses wearing heavy gear...and it was a hot day. But our class of about a dozen rookies and experienced firefighters survived the exam and the practical. Only one guy (not me) fell into the creek.

Three pumpers can move a lot of water.

The Volunteer Ambulance down in AuSable Forks voted me in last week. (In this part of the country, north is considered 'down'.)  I registered for the EMT-Basic certification class over (not up) in Wilmington next month. It's a six-month class, with a state exam and practical in April.

It's nice to live in a small, rural area in the mountains where, every morning, there's more color than yesterday, a faint smell of wood smoke, and geese noisily going about their migration. Fall is arriving.

Fixing Up

Suzy Painting the Porch Floor

We've worked on Woodman's Lee for nearly 15 years...and it's far from done.

The porch needed sprucing up to be suitable for our overnight visitors. Suzy painted the wall and floor to brighten it up and make it easier to clean. Despite our fastidiousness the porch always reverted to a middenish hovel. 

Our first step was to remove everything, then clean and paint the walls and floor. We took the old table, benches and bed to the thrift store and I burned the old mattresses. I moved the tools and supplies to the tarp -covered containers on pallets in the back. Eventually the ever-growing number of tools and supplies will move into our new shed. Then we moved the vanity and futon to the porch. It's now a rather nice guest room.

The Old Loft Window

The loft window was a big job because it was my first window replacement. We needed more light - hence a bigger opening - and the work wasn't at ground level. Scaffolding was well worth the investment, it's safer than working off a ladder and access is key to a high quality job. 

The replacement window is energy efficient, it's significantly larger and provides much better ventilation because it's a double hung window. We can vent the heat from the high ceiling quite effectively by opening the upper window, or close it down tight for cold weather operations. We'll crack it open just a bit on cold nights, allowing the crisp night air to mix in with the heat from the wood stove. That's a luxury you can't find at some of the finest homes and hotels in the world because either the climate is too humid or their windows are fixed. Civilization may impress itself with its modern sealed, recirculated-air conditioned buildings - so essential for survival in the South - but I think they are unpleasant and unhealthy.

The New Loft Window

Suzy also painted the loft floor, brightening it up and making the floor easier to sweep. Then we hauled the big Tempur-Pedic mattress from the storage facility and hoisted it into the loft. So now we have a very cozy sleeping loft, and now it'll be all too easy to sleep in late on those cold winter mornings.

Oil Train Intrusion

Old CP Rail logo. 

The beaver has been eradicated on their new logo.

North Country residents are preoccupied with the outdoors - work, chores, crops, and cold weather preparations consume most of our energy, and any spare time is spent with family, hiking, getting ready for deer season, fishing or chatting about all this stuff with neighbors. What happens outside the Blue Line is generally of little consequence. Exceptions typically involve the cost of the latest idiotic school mandate or the equally idiotic feel-good firearm-law-du jour out of Albany. 

But a catastrophe that happened outside the Blue Line last year managed to get everyone's attention, even though it was 250 miles away. 

On July 6, 2013, a runaway 'oil train', - a long string of tank cars transporting Bakken crude oil - derailed at Lac-Mégantic, Quebec. When these cars derail they also ignite. The oil companies aren't required to boil off the volatiles before rail transport as required for pipeline transport. So they save money by not doing that but the oil train crude has a lower flashpoint. When that energetic fuel ignited the explosion created a blast zone over a mile in diameter. That flattened the downtown area, polluted the lake and killed 46 people. 

Oil Tank Car BLEVE at Lac-Mégantic, Quebec.

The initial reaction here probably involved a glance at the headlines but a longer gaze at the sky, as the weather determines the cadence of work. Oh, it was unfortunate but it was one of so many outside-our-world tragedies. Then we realized that this accident could have happened here, as there are 100 miles of track inside the park, right along Lake Champlain's western shore. 

Adirondack Oil Train Enroute to Albany

Every day a Canadian Pacific Rail oil train rumbles through Port Kent, 25 miles from us, enroute to refineries in Albany. The Feds control the rails so CP Rail can ignore operational inquiries from state and local governments. Railroads have a rich tradition of arrogance. But anyone can count cars so we know they ship a million gallons of crude oil through Essex County every day. 

The quantity of oil shipped through here has increased exponentially in the last 5 years and it'll further increase if the Keystone pipeline is cancelled. The oil companies are hedging their options by seeking modifications to refineries to process the dirtier Alberta tar sands oil. The industries are directing their obedient servants (aka, our elected representatives) to fast-track modification permits, specifically the Albany refineries. It's entirely possible that another million gallons of crude oil a day could be transported through Adirondack Park in the next few years.  

In fairness, CP Rail didn't cause the Lac-Mégantic catastrophe. Another railroad, Montreal, Maine & Atlantic, was responsible for that. MMA quickly realized they were mind-numbingly negligent and preemptively declared bankruptcy only a month after the accident, basically conceding every lawsuit. (They also didn't have to repay their $20 million US government loan.) Ah, it's swell to be judgment-proof. 

Here's one example of their incompetence, which happened the night of the accident: MMA thought it was perfectly ok for their engineer to essentially abandon their train carrying a quarter billion dollars' worth of oil, and get some rest at a nearby motel. And so it was parked next to busy highway, and left unattended overnight...with the locomotive door unlocked and its (damaged) engine running. While the engineer was asleep the engine blew, caught fire and the local fire department responded by shutting the fuel and pulling the circuit breakers, all per procedure. That put the fire out. Unfortunately that also shut down the air compressor supplying the air brakes and the engineer didn't apply the parking brakes. As the air slowly bled down, the train lost its brakes and rolled a few miles downhill, gaining speed and blasting through 13 grade crossings, until it finally derailed and exploded in downtown Lac-Mégantic.

Given this level of industry incompetence, it's amazing that there isn't more train accidents. CP Rail averages about ten derailments per year - for over 14,000 miles of track.

Corporations coldly analyze the cost vs. safety benefits of adding crew, strengthening the tankers, shortening the trains, slowing them down, upgrading the track, improving operational safety practices...and training/equipping the emergency responders. The decision makers must have determined that the benefits aren't worth the cost. Besides, they don't even live near the train tracks, also known as the Blast Danger Area.

A Lac-Mégantic-class accident here would overwhelm the first responders - and probably all the subsequent responders, too. There's not enough Class B foam or tankers in all of Essex County to knock down what's known as a cascading BLEVE (boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion). It took two days for 150 firefighters to extinguish the Lac-Mégantic fire...in other words, it just burned itself out. The environmental cleanup is still underway, over a year - and a billion (taxpayer) dollars - later.

Corporate budgets for common decency were zeroed out years ago - if they ever existed at all. In desperation, communities must now badger the federal government to force railroads to clean up their act. The process starts with concerned citizens who arrange public forums that the politicians can only ignore at their peril. Railroad and oil execs get anxious when the people notice how out of control they are and the commoners demand no-brainer regulations. 

Citizens may, for instance, request an end to the current practice of one employee, working 12 hour shifts, single-handedly operating a mile-long oil train. The railroads adore the labor efficiency and are undoubtedly developing drone trains to bring their labor costs closer to zero. But the public isn't enamored with one overworked locomotive engineer piloting an oil train that has the explosive potential of 25 tons of TNT. 

Thus, Suzy and I attended a public forum at the Whallensburg Grange this week. It was well attended by a collection of politicians, media and concerned citizens. Some of the attendees abused the Q&A session with bloviating questions seemingly designed, but failing, to impress the rest of us. 

Overall, it was a successful event because it grabbed the attention of the politicians and media. Additional, larger meetings are being scheduled. You can sense that something's going to change - after the inevitable stonewalling and perhaps another catastrophe or two.

With a little persistence and luck the people may indeed prevail on the oil train issue...perhaps the ethanol and propane trains, too!

Town Meeting on Oil Trains at The Grange in Whallensburg

Diēs Caniculārēs

The Dog Days began in late July. Definitions vary, but the Romans fixed the dates at July 24 through August 24. They invented the Julian calendar, so I'll accept theirs as the authoritative version. 

W graciously interrupted her busy day to laboriously demonstrate the traditional dog day pose. The proper technique involves sprawling out to match the curvature of the earth.

We had our first visitors, long time friends from Florida a few weeks ago and family from Connecticut last week. That's always fun for us, and I hope they had a nice time here. We've planned outings, but it seems as if the guests want to hang around here and relax. It is a peaceful place for an afternoon nap...as W can occasionally attest.

The shed is taking form but there's a lot of work remaining. I hope to get the rafters up, and the siding on the roof and walls completed this month. It's a slow evolution, but I don't work more than a few hours at a time on it.

We finally moved into the new firehouse, here's a photo of #345, our American LaFrance pumper, on its final departure from the old station. I was offered the brush truck to drive to the new station but I declined because I haven't been checked out on it. That was prescient because then I'd have to back it into the new station, which I may have literally done.

The new facility is nice, we have more space and I can store all my gear there. I can also charge my pager using the outlets right above my locker. The pager is an analog device, inefficient compared to the digital electronics that are common nowadays. Recall the 'old days' of analog cell phones, back when a battery charge would last a few hours. EMS pagers in more affluent areas (pretty much anywhere else) are routinely upgraded but due to the vast coverage area, remote and mountainous terrain - and limited budgets - we can't expect to stay current with the technology. So, it takes a lot of energy to charge my pager and the battery life is short. That's a problem for us because we don't generate much power from our 5W solar panel. It's a luxury to have an AC outlet available!

Anyway, here are the trucks safely parked in their bays. 

And here's a photo of my turnout gear's new home, this is so much better than leaving it around the cabin or car.

I've enrolled in a pumper truck operator class, 3 hours every Wednesday night for 8 weeks. Although pumping water looks easy, doing it right (and safely) involves a plethora of hydraulic theory and a solid understanding of the mechanical components. The class is taught in the Jay firehouse, the converted old schoolhouse, with big open windows, cool evening breezes...it's probably the finest classroom on the planet. Our class of twelve students ingurgitates a staggering amount of chewing tobacco during the lectures. I sip coffee, which feels appropriately old-school and, to a casual observer, looks like just another spit cup.

On a less repulsive note, the weather has actually gotten a bit cooler - in defiance of the Romans - the ominous prevision of a long heating season. 

I've cut and trimmed many trees, but the impact on the property is almost unnoticeable. We have an abundance of trees, which appear to grow faster than they can be harvested. 

Here's my latest woodpile, about a cord, which I figure will last about a month. I don't have a splitter so I hope that the small logs will suffice, as is. I may get a splitting maul, but I've never had much luck hand splitting logs. A gas engine powered log splitter would be the obvious gadget but I'm resisting the temptation to buy everything I think I need. It's not easy to do.

My firewood routine is to cut down the trees, limb them and either chip or burn the brush. Then I section the trees into cordwood logs, stacked and dried at the edge of the forest for a couple of months. Here's a photo of two cordwood piles around the property.

After that bit of seasoning, I cut the cordwood to size and restack it, letting the wood dry for awhile more before use. It's a lot of work but the reward is heat without using fossil fuels and nothing beats a wood stove on a chilly day. Although some fuel is used by the chainsaw, it has a tiny engine and consumes little fuel and bar oil.

In addition to laying in a stockpile of wood, I have to tune up the backup KeroSun heaters (we have a primary and a spare in storage), and clean the chimney.

To reduce heat loss, I began the loft window replacement, removing the old one and establishing the rough opening for the new one. Once that's squared up the installation should go fairly smoothly.

I completed the Election Inspector class, passed the state test and was sworn in. We have another primary on September 9, so I may work that day. Tonight is the Volunteer Ambulance meeting, and later this week is the big Oozeball tournament. The inmate detail from Ray Brook worked on the site last week and will finish up the preparations this week.

Soon the dog days will be waning and it'll be apple season. With luck, the bugs will become less energetic and we'll be harvesting more goodies from the garden. The tourists will start to diminish and it'll be even more pleasant to be outdoors...maybe we can sneak in a few hikes!