Ears to Hear

Today I was downtown Wenatchee walking along the railroad tracks and I came upon a nice looking old Mack tractor with a flatbed trailer behind it. Getting closer to the rig, I saw that a homeless person or people had built a shelter of sorts underneath. A mattress or two, a jumble of dirty clothes, cooking pots. I didn't want to intrude, so I kept walking.
Twenty feet away, I realized that I needed to go back. Go back and leave some money there. I grabbed a rock from the railroad ballast and a twenty out of my wallet and stooped down into the opening of the shelter. Nobody home. Amidst the beer cans and the other debris, I left that 20 under that rock.

And later today, I saw a family that I know was just returning from a cancer consult in Seattle. After battling it several years ago, her cancer has returned. I could feel the heaviness in the air.

"This time it looks particularly bad," she simply said, as if talking about tonight's weather forecast. "And chemo is no longer an option--only surgery."

So, this evening I'm thinking. Praying, actually, before my meal. "So, why, God, do I get to be golden boy with so much going for me and so many cool things happening in my life, and she, (my friend) has a very sucky day. And the homelss person a very sucky life?"

This wasn't a rhetorical question--I really wanted to know. I mean I raised the tower yesterday successfully. I get to go to London tomorrow for a week. I've never gone hungry. I have two incredible kids...the list could go on for pages.

So, I got the answer. Really. It was God talking to me. It's kinda hard for me to write this. Kind hard to share about this, but truly. God talked and I heard the whisper. Not out loud, not Charlton Heston's voice, but there, there back somewhere in my head or heart or somewhere.

"You got the life I gave you so you can help others." That's what God said.
And I think I get it more than I ever have before. It's not that I am supposed to be Mother Theresa. That was her job. My job is to be Martin. A rather peculiar guy who makes a difference in his own quirky way. Working as a counselor as I did for many, many years--certainly. Giving workshops to help other social workers and counselors develop good kid skills--of course. Inspiring Americorps members to be sin boldly--yep.

But also in other subtle ways, ways that don't allow one to draw a fat magic marker line from cause to effect. Ways that just are part of the big picture and God's incredible rich and funny and preposterous plan. Even tank towers, even 20 dollar bills under rocks for a homeless alcoholic who might just spend it on booze.

The Tower is Up!

Yesterday afternoon was my day. I had to work until 3, and then we were to try to lift the tower after that. A last-minute call cancelled my work day so we could start the lift after lunch. A blessing because, since the project required 5 hours, we never would have made it had we started at 3.

Only Terry could come, all my other helpers were busy. Terry and I thought we could do it alone, but turned out there was no way we could. We needed help and, what do you know, Mark and his son Sam showed up.

As I crawled the crane over to the foundation, I could have easily been off to the right or left by inches or even feet, but things were lined up perfectly.

And, lastly, the myriad things that could have gone wrong that I wasn't even aware of...didn't.

Well, most everything didn't. We had one false start: After getting everything hooked up, looked over and ready to go, I proceeded to begin lifting the tower. I got it up halfway, about 45 degrees, and, all of a sudden, the end of the tower on the ground began rolling. Being round, and there being just enough of a slope, it took off, cartwheeling downhill. And the top chain connection between crane boom and tower has a pivot in it, so it merely spun 'round and 'round, letting the big long cylinder of a tower do whatever the heck it wanted to do. I sat there in the crane, jaw agape watching the unimaginable take place before my eyes.

Then things go exciting. Since the tower end was now rolling downhill, the momentum of the whole thing was swinging my crane boom over sideways. This put my weight out over the side of the tracks rather than in the front. Now I was too heavy and began to tip--not over completely, but enough to really get my attention.

Well, after we began breathing again and took a break to assess the situation, we lowered the tower top end until it was just barely off the ground, and then used the backhoe to push the tower base back up to where it was supposed to be. And you can bet that we also made sure the base would not do the big roll again.

After that it was pretty straightforward. A little iffy traveling the crane with the tower suspended in the air. But, slowly, slowly, we got it there, in place and down on the bolt stubs.

Here we are using the back hoe to hold the back end of the crane down because, as we needed to boom out a bit more, the tower was too heavy for the crane and, without the extra weight of the backhoe, we were getting pretty darn tippy!

Much cheering, back-slapping, and time for dinner.

Soren and I went back out and climbed the tower by flashlight to watch the stars come poking out. A perfect finish to the day.

Oh, so close

All the welding is done. All the boards cut. All the screws placed. It's time to get the tower up in the air. We were scheduled for 3 this afternoon. And then I woke up to wind. It blew hard all day long. Terry came up and we faced the facts: you just don't want a 9,000 lb steel can swinging in the breeze like some big wind chime. Especially if you're going to try to set it down easy on 8 bolts sticking up from the concrete slab.

Still not sure how it's going to go getting all those holes lined up....

I hope to find out tomorrow when we give it another try.

killer hill

Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding. Welding.

I never thought I could get tired of welding...but I am. There's been so much to weld and there's still so much to get done. It's tempting to just slam it all together, but I can't--lives are at stake if my welds were to fail and people fall from way up high atop the tower. This adds tension to the work and an intensity that makes for exhaustion at day's end.

Still, it's really good and satisfying work, this making stuff is. As I've mentioned early in this project, I've had this dream of a tower fortress, and here it is becoming real right before my eyes. Today, when I was breaking for lunch, I stopped and looked back behind me at this thing I am creating and was struck by how so very cool this thing is and how fortunate--how blessed--I am. Crane, welder, hundreds of dollars of free steel, the skills, the time, the guts...all this is gift, all this was given to me so that I can be who I am.

Soon, it will be time to lift this dang thing upright. Soon.

Millie made it home

That last 100 ft was a killer. As discussed in a previous post, I almost rolled the crane off the edge of the road when she sank her outbound track into the soft road edge. BTW, how many times do I need to learn the lesson of soft road edges before I stay well away? I'm now recalling the time I had my loaded water truck sink down off the edge....

Anyways, Terry came up this morning and we got to work. Seemed like an easy plan: swing the crane house around so that the rear counterweight was inboard and far away from the road edge, which would put the weight off the outward track. Then let Millie roll backwards down the road a bit until she was back to the center and then proceed back up the road on solid roadbed.

Well...

We couldn't swing the house around because the swing clutch is shot. We then proceed to pull the house around with Ol' Blue, the back hoe, but the swing brake was also shot and wouldn't hold the house from swinging back out precariously over the cliff edge! So we pulled the house around as far as we could and then Terry got underneath the crane and set a chain from the track base to the house bottom so that she couldn't swing back.

Then we were going to roll Millie back, but instead of rolling back, the outward track just started settling in deeper into the soft shoulder. Arghh.
We ended up setting out a bunch of timber planks in front of the outward track and I winched myself up on top by connecting my boom hoist rope to the road grader set on up a head on the road. Once I got up on the timbers, things were looking better, but, I gotta tell you, there was a period of time there where I was really scared that the crane was going to roll over and off the road and take me with her. But, it worked. And Mille got to the middle of the road and then it was an easy drive up the rest of the way to the saddle and the safety of the shop.

The crazy situations I get myself into require just as much craziness to get out, I suppose, plus tenacity, guts, luck, and being watched out for from up above.

Somebody recently sent me an email that speaks to this and was the very best of compliments:

You’re also an inspiration to others....’never before have we seen one man do such much---with so little! You’ve got real grit, which isn’t seen much, anymore.

tower progress

Welding. Lots of welding. I've got the support joists that cantilever out under the catwalk in place and now I'm working on the railings. It's been difficult getting all the geometry correct, but, so far, I'm right on the money. I'm doing first pass with 6013 to get deep penetration into the weld and then following up with 7018. The vertical and upside-down welds, though, are pushing my limits. And always, in the back of my mind, is the reality that these welds must hold well since they will be supporting people 30 feet up in the air.

Terry sent a new pulley down lake on the barge from Holden Village. Man, it's a big one...some 100 lbs or so of old steel. It'll work well for getting Millie, the crane, up the rest of the road and then also for a hook block for Millie when she's lifting heavy loads.

millie's big adventure

I've been trying to get my old Northwest Engineering crane up my road to my mountain top. There's several strikes against this being a successful project: one, the crane dates back to 1953; two, the clutches are worn and she can't pull herself up much of a grade; three, the machine weighs 46,000 lbs; and four, my road is a mile long, steep, and with 5 switchbacks in it.

Nonetheless, I set out to do this with the help of several friends and Alice, my road grader.

It wasn't off to a good strat when I was re-torqueing a few track frame bolts and I felt one snap off. Granted, I was putting 200ft. lbs on it, but it should have handled lots more than that. A minute later, Terry showed up. I thought we were done for the day, but Terry said "Why don't we head up to your shop and see if we can find something to make a new one." Well, we did and we did.

The first attempt didn't work out and I had to back down the road after 4 hours and only 400 ft. But I learned a lot. I found out that the crane cannot pull travel herself up the road and that the grader cannot pull her--the grader tires just start slipping. We did find out that what did work was paying out the wire rope off the drum that is used for lifting objects (She is a crane) and attaching that the the grader. Then I have a buddy drive the grader up the road a ways, set the brakes and blade down i nthe dirt and then I winch myself up to the grader. And then repeat. Many times. Here's us coming up....

Unfortunately, when the road gets steep, the winch is not strong enough to pull the entire machine. Terry, my best idea man had a good one: use a snatch block pully on the grader which would set up a 2:1 mechanical advantage when winching. And here's us going back down...

Our second attempt, several weeks later, used this approach. Worked like a charm. Got up the road, up thru the steepest parts, round the switchback corners and were just about to crest out up top when I happened to notice some metal fragments in the road. I stopped to check. Luckily, because it turns out that the pully block was just about to come apart as the bearing had failed.

We were just about up--and really wanting to get up after working on this all day out in the 100 degree heat without hardly any water--so, we tired to winch me the last stretch without the 2:1 mechanical advantage. I wasn't paying close enoug attention and I drifted too close to the edge of the road. The soft shouldler sucked me down and my right track started sinking and the entire crane house began listing over the edge. There's a big steep drop-off there and the crane was way too close for comfort.

Here you can see how she is itching to pop a wheelie. Notice how the track frame is lifting....

We began wrestling with options and strategies and ideas. All I could visualize was a quart of ice water. I listened to that little voice in me saying "Martin, time to shut it down. Now, before things totally come unraveled..." I surprised myself by listening to that voice this time. SO, now Mille sits--almost home--for several weeks until I can get a new pulley block and a plan for getting her off of the soft shoulder.