Benjamin Scribner's Blog, page 17
March 23, 2017
Spring flooding
Well it’s been another (somewhat ) quiet week up here on the mountain, my little slice of heaven.
Warm temperatures and rain have been causing trouble in town. Every river is over it’s banks and flooding has become a real problem. The local markets north entrance is closed due to flooding, as is most of the parking lot.
The market was built in the 50’s, and shortly after was caught in a flood that had about five feet of standing water on a floor that hadn’t quite set yet. The floor buckled and was never replaced. As a result, one does not let go of their shopping cart while shopping there or it will quite possibly roll away.
Wednesday I got my UTV back from the shop with a brand new rebuilt motor in it. And not a moment to soon, since the road up to the cabin is starting to become difficult to traverse with a snowmobile now due to the way snow melts off up there. Large batches of dirt are not the smartest thing to run across with a snowmobile.
I unloaded the UTV and drove it two miles into my driveway before the new motor seized up.
It seems the rebuild shop didn’t bother to tighten the oil drain plug and it worked its way out, dumping all three quarts of oil on the road about a mile from home.
The shop that installed the motor is now trying to figure out how to get an 800 lb machine with tracks on off a mountain that is almost impossible to drive with anything but another tracked machine.
This leaves me hiking about 3/4 of a mile from my truck to my snowmobile as parts of the road in between are covered with ice still. Making it difficult to haul in supplies. Hopefully something will be figured out soon or there will be a lot of walking in my future. Walking uphill for two miles isn’t exactly something a person with my disability should be doing.
Well that’s all the news for the week. Bye for now.
March 13, 2017
This week’s news
Well it’s been another quiet week up here on the mountain, my little slice of heaven.
March snowstorms came roaring in about the last week of February, dumping four feet of fresh snow on us.
Allen had to dig himself out twice and hasn’t yet been able to check on Jacks cabin.
For those of you new here, Jack is another old guy that comes and goes up here. He wants to live here year round, but doesn’t care for the road in the summer, and has no way to get in or out during the winter. He is an interesting character to say the least.
Now rain and warm temperatures are the order of the week, and so far all the snow we got in the past storms has melted once more.
Flooding is becoming a concern in town the last couple of days.
The old loggers have been pontificating on this strange turn in the weather. Some calling it global warming, while others are just calling it weather.
Up here, I am impatient for spring and the summer building I need to finish before next winter. Though it will be mid May before the ground up here is bare enough to start building.
Cherry creek is once more overflowing its banks, causing problems along the dirt road that bears the same name. The county has sent in a grader a few times to try and stave off road erosion as the creek runs so close to it in places.
I saw the first moose near here in a while yesterday. It was ahead of me as I rounded a corner. It didn’t stop long since it didn’t like the noise of my snowmobile, and jumped off the road into the woods the first opportunity it had.
Two days ago, while working on my snowmobile down below the cabin, where it broke down, I had a cycote watching me the whole time I was there. It would yip or bark occasionally to let me know it was still watching me, even after two trips back up to the cabin for a warmup and tools. Cycotes aren’t the bravest of critters, so I was unconcerned with its presence nearby. I even spoke to it once or twice letting it know I knew it was there.
Well that’s all the news for the week. Bye for now.
February 24, 2017
The weeks news
Well it’s been another quiet week up here on the mountain, my little slice of heaven.
Winter has made a comeback, snow and colder temperatures have returned once more. Hopefully this is winter’s last breath and we will start seeing signs of spring.
I’ve been spending a little more time in town this past week due to having to have my blood pressure checked every other day, so have been hanging out at My Kitchen. The old loggers have been in rare form, telling jokes and funny stories. I think spring fever has caught them up and making them feel young again. Good natured ribbing has flowed around the table and even spilled over to me when I’m there.
Allen is trying hard not to stay board, he’s been stopping by alot this past week, talking about what he plans to get working on when the snow leaves.
I myself, have been making summer building plans, I need to get rainwater storage set up this summer, and some other pressing building projects need doing.
One thing Allen and I have talked about is the lack of moose sign this winter. Last winter there was sign everywhere and I often ran into the occasional moose in the road during my travels. This year, no sign at all. Wondering if the increase in traffic on the mountain has them in hiding.
Well that’s all the news for the week. Bye for now.
February 17, 2017
Nothing new this week, here’s a story from my childhood in Castine Maine.
Back in the late 60’s my family moved to the small coastal town of Castine Maine. The first house we moved to was a small cape on Green st. Later we moved to a twenty room, three story house on Main st.
There wasn’t much to do in a small town, there was an old British fort, complete with redouts, but it was really nothing more than dirt mounds thrown up, the fort itself was long gone. The other thing was fishing in the bay, which was the summer pass time of every young boy below the age of 12.
There was a pier standing out over the bay and to one side was a floating dock attached to the pier so it could move with the tides. I don’t remember just how big the dock was, but let’s say it was about 15 ft wide and 25 ft long.
Every day during the summer, the outboard side would be packed with boys, and sometimes a few girls, there was hardly any room to get a good cast of your line.
At the time, I had turned in enough bottles to buy myself what we called a drop line. This was made up of four dowels, two with holes drilled in to allow the other two to fit through, forming a square of about six inches. This was then wrapped with a heavy line, bigger than most nylon line at the time, this was almost rope.
To use this contraption, you would unroll a few feet of line, bait your hook, and toss the line out as far as you could, then slowly pull it back in. It wasn’t near as fast as a rod and reel, but it worked.
I was probably 7 or 8, before the summer I cut my finger off. (That’s another story for another day ) We were all down at the dock fishing, when the tide was coming in. An adult up on the pier had hooked something big, we could tell by the way his rod was bent almost in half.
Soon his catch got close to the surface and we, and I suppose he, realized he had hooked a dogfish, or sand shark as we called them. He managed to haul this shark all the way out of the water and even a few feet into the air before his line broke and it went splashing back into the bay.
I think every kid on the dock got the same idea at the same time. We’re going shark fishing!
Now you have to remember, this was back when kids ate breakfast and left the house telling their parents they would be back by supper. There was almost no parental control, we were free range kids of the first order, something you hardly see in this day and age.
We knew the tides, knew that when it came in it brought the minnows, and following them were Mackerel, feeding. Behind the Mackerel came the sharks.
So the next morning we showed up at the dock ready to fish for shark.
Someone brought a cage like contraption to catch the minnows. After we had enough, those with a real rod would cast out for Mackerel.
Now here’s where the drop lines come in.
After we felt we had enough bait, we would cut off the head of a Mackerel and, using a large hook tied to a drop line, we would throw the whole mess as far as we could hoping to hook a shark. I don’t think we ever hooked one, I think the shark would swallow the whole mess and the hook would catch inside.
I will remind you here that there wasn’t any kid there above the age of 12, and no adults around to tell us we probably shouldn’t be doing this.
Yes we caught a few, hauling them close to the dock before someone brave enough would get as close to the mouth of a really pissed off shark to cut the line. We went through a lot of hooks and drop lines that summer.
One day about mid summer, one of the older kids wanted to bring one up on the dock and see what was inside.
Yes, you read that right, he wanted to cut one open and see what was inside it.
Well we were all for that… So the next one caught was hauled right onto the dock. Boy was it pissed, it was probably around five ft long and to us it was all mouth and teeth.
We stayed far back from it until it quite thrashing.
Now don’t go getting all soft on me, remember, this was years before the movie JAWS and sharks were still feared, so nobody cared like we do now. Now we still fear them, but at least we understand them, and now I wouldn’t harm a creature intentionally for anything.
Once the shark stopped thrashing around, the older kid that had suggested we cut it open, stepped forward and sliced it open.
Everything spilled out, including about a dozen babies, with yoke sacks still attached.
Dogfish don’t lay eggs, the young hatch inside the mother and develop, then she gives birth to live babies.
Well to say we were in shock would be an understatement, this was something none of us had ever seen.
Now some of us were unset, we had killed a mother with babies.
Kids started throwing the babies into the bay, only to watch as other sharks grabbed them up.
Yeah, I know, snacks…
I happened to have brought a bucket with me and dipped some water out of the bay. I tossed in one of the babies and took it home to shoe to my mom.
Not once, mind you, did either one of my parents ask where I had gotten a baby shark.
My dad took a large trash can, the old metal type, and filled it with seawater from the local swimming hole.
Nobody realized that the shark still having a yoke sack wouldn’t live long. I think it lived almost a week.
After that, our shark fishing days were over.
Sometimes I wonder how none of us got hurt or killed that summer, though there was a plethora of hooking accidents, someone would throw back their rod to cast and end up hooking someone’s cheek or ear. The boy would cut the line and go home to get the hook removed, returning shortly with a bandaid or even a stitch or two.
And that my friends is just one of the crazy stories of my life.
February 13, 2017
February 7, 2017
My day; Or how to get killed by a sled.
My day… This morning we were running late and the ignition on my snowmobile was frozen. I got Tina’s machine fired up and sent her down the mountain. I took the ignition switch out, brought it inside, and got it thawed out. Now, I needed to meet Tina at the bottom of the mountain on her lunch break so I could go into town to do laundry. The hitch on the sled was damaged the last time we skated on the ice below, and I had no safe way to secure it to the hitch on the snowmobile.
I decided to tie it to the bumper of the machine with a 1″ strap… loose so it could ride behind me without binding up. Big mistake.
Not even one hundred feet from the end of my driveway the tongue of the sled comes loose and digs into the snow, causing the sled to become airborne and try riding up my back. I tied it tighter to the bumper and proceed once again. About halfway down to the grader on the first sharp corner, I realized the sled was no longer behind me. Rather than turn around, I walked uphill until I found it. I pushed it down in front of me back to the snowmobile and once again tied it off. This time it went forward as I was breaking and smashed the brake light lens and bulb. Well, shit. Other than a new seat cover, this machine was in great shape. Now I have to find a new lens for a machine that hasn’t been in production since ’75.
I almost made it the rest of the way down when, once again, it decides to break loose. This time, because now I’m on the ice, it tries to pass me. Luckily, the tongue hits a rough spot on the ice and it heads for the snowbank. I rode down close to Tina’s machine before walking back up and dragging it down.
While in town, I stopped in the local hardware store and bought a metal clip to secure it to the hitch.
Another fun day on the mountain. Never a dull moment around here.
My day. Or how to get killed by a sled.
My day… This morning we were running late and the ignition on my snowmobile was frozen. I got Tina’s machine fired up and sent her down the mountain. I took the ignition switch out and brought it inside and got it tawed out. Now I needed to meet Tina at the bottom of the mountain on her lunch break so i could go into town to do laundry. The hitch on the sled was damaged the last time we skated on the ice below and I had no safe way to secure it to the hitch on the snowmobile.
I decided to tie it to the bumper of the machine with a 1″ strap… loose so it can ride behind me without binding up. Big mistake.
Not even one hundred feet from the end of my driveway and the tongue of the sled comes loose and digs into the snow, causing the sled to become airborne and try riding up my back.
Tied it tighter to the bumper and proceed once again.
About halfway down to the grader on the first sharp corner I realized the sled was no longer behind me. Rather than turn around I walked uphill until I found it. Pushed it down in front of me back to the snowmobile and once again tied it off. This time it went forward as I was breaking and smashed the brake light lens and the bulb. Well shit, other than a new seat cover, this machine was in great shape, now I have to find a new lens for a machine thst hasn’t been in production since 75.
Almost made it the rest of the way down when once again it decides to break loose and this time, because now I’m on the ice, it tries to pass me. Luckily the tongue hits a rough spot in the ice and it heads for the snowbank. Rode down close to Tina’s machine before walking back up and dragging it down.
While in town I stopped into the local hardware store and bought a metal clip to secure it to the hitch.
Another fun day on the mountain. Never a dull moment around here.
February 2, 2017
This week’s news
Well, it’s been another quiet week up here on the mountain, my little slice of heaven.
It’s been warm this past week; temperatures have made it feel almost spring-like up here.
Down in town, they weren’t prepared for all this snow we’ve had and are still trying to get the side roads cleaned up. Normally, it would have melted off by now, so they were caught with their pants down.
Yesterday down at My Kitchen, Dawn, one of the few gals that managed to find employment after Bud’s diner closed, had left her lights on on her truck last Friday when she came to work. I was just finishing my coffee when she was leaving, planning on walking home and hoping to get the local auto parts store to jump start her truck. I told her I had cables and wouldn’t mind helping out. So in a few minutes, she was up and running and avoided the chilly walk home.
Allen has been keeping busy with the snow drifts below me. He is trying to stay busy; finding anything he can. I told him he needed a hobby, or at least wait until winter to do his inside work.
Coming home yesterday, a delivery truck had managed to get sideways in the road right at Larry’s place. It took an old dozer to drag him out after about an hour of the driver trying anything, from tire chains to throwing furniture pads under the tires. Never a dull moment around here.
Still trying to get this place off the generator and onto full-time battery use. It seems the inverter I picked up still isn’t big enough to run my refrigerator. So this weekend, weather permitting, I will be headed north to the city once more. This time I plan on buying an inverter big enough to run the whole cabin. I’m tired of messing around with it; though my lights, and a few other things, will still be on the 12-volt system.
I haven’t seen any moose lately. Normally I would have run into one on the road by now, or have one in my yard. I think they have moved further down the mountain even though we haven’t had the snow we would normally have by this time of year.
The days are getting longer; spring isn’t far off, but up here there will still be snow until June, making getting around difficult with a snowmobile. Too many patches of bare ground will mean lots of hiking. Any supplies needed will have to be brought in prior to that time, or won’t be in until after the roads are dry.
Well, that’s all the news for the week. Bye for now.
January 31, 2017
Just an average day on the mountain.
Dishes washed, bed made. Both cats are asleep on it now. Funny how they won’t go to sleep on it until it’s made, spoiled cats.
I’ve been in pain since yesterday. I think the change in the weather might be a factor. I will push through it and get the day’s chores done still.
Christina has it made. Since she works in town, I keep the cabin running. She comes home to a hot meal and the tea water heated and ready. Up here, there’s no such thing as “woman’s work” or “man’s work,” there’s just work. She does help bring in the next day’s firewood because each of us making three trips to the wood pile is easier on us than one person doing six trips.
Having a fuel pump issue with my snowmobile today and will be out there working on it soon. I really need a permanent fix, but that would mean it would be down for a few days and we can’t afford that. So, I will jury rig something to keep it running until summer when I can repair it right.
That’s life up here. You need some knowledge of how things work and how to repair them, even if it’s just cobbled together until you can repair it right. If you don’t, you won’t survive long. Allen hasn’t the necessary skills, but he has me, and he and I have helped each other in the past.
January 28, 2017
My disability
I came back from Operation Iraqi Freedom with nerve and muscle disease in my hands and feet. This means I am slowly losing the use of those appendages and will one day in the future be confined to a wheelchair.
I tell you that to tell you this…After being on my feet all day cleaning up the cabin, I went to take a step and “lost” the use of my left foot… The pain and the sudden “loss” of that foot put me on the floor. Tina had to bring me my cane.
I really hate this disease…
