Pa Blankenagel - Trekking: The Terrain

The reality of the Trek really set in as we rounded the last corner in the busses and could see 23 handcarts lined up in a stackyard.  Each handcart was labeled with a family name and was surrounded by gear.  My heart started beating, and my mind began racing determining priorities and how to get organized and ready.  Every person I'd talked to that had been on the previous trek spoke of many times re-packing their carts.  I wanted to break that tradition, but with only about 10 minutes to pack and tie down the load before ruffians carrying pitchforks began pushing us out of the country, I had no choice.

We started down a gravel road.  There was not much to cause me worry about our load, but in short order the road turned to a trail, and eventually a path.  Granite and Basalt boulders littered the path along with the occasional stream crossing.  Everything above the side-rails of the cart began to shake loose. 

At first we got by with shoves, pushes, and tightening the orange twine that criss-crossed the load.  In short order the twine was a jumbled web that tied this to that and attatched to the side rails.  The web was still only semi-effective against the harshness of the trail.  By lunch I was ready to start over!

We were traversing pasture lands east of Lake Roosevelt near Fruitland, Washington.  The terrain in this country is hilly with a good variety of vegetation.  Sometimes we had the luxury of shade-trees that gave respite from the heat, but more often we were in the open prarie with the sun beating down.  Our path was commonly cambered to one side as we crossed foothills, and our load would shift and lean over the cart rail into the steel wheel that ate away at anything soft if not tended to quickly. 

The first steep hill we climbed was composed of switchbacks up a grassy slope.  After the final hairpin turn, the ground became too steep for grass to remain under much traffic, and the silty ground was covered more with cobbles and gravel than anything green.  This last rise was steep enough that several men would join in to drag and push each cart up the dusty hillside.  Once on top, our women were allowed to rest for a few moments while our men went back to help a couple more carts before moving on with our own.  This pattern of effort became particularly important in the coming miles.

On day two we rose above the semi-forested foothills into a high prarie where the grass grew upwards of five feet tall.  The yellow stocks of grain would lay down in the trail along with green and purple bramble that created a tangled slippery carpet that rose and fell where boulders still littered the path.  Some larger boulders had been removed by lead carts, and tiger-trap holes remained to claim our feet as we pushed our loads.  In these grassy lands, the soil was still terribly dry, and our footsteps created dust that rose with thick pollen.  The few in our company who were subject to allergies suffered immensely even with medication.  These grassy slopes rose and fell, and gave no relief of a level push.  Our footsteps would not purchase, and we took extreme care on the descents by turning our carts backwards and letting the cart down in front of us with every person employed on a handle or a wheel.

Under these rough conditions, one family chose to take a running start at a climb.  Their ma slipped on the grass and fell in front of the wheel of their cart.  Their momentum carried the cart over her thighs, and she had to be carried on to camp in shock, but fortunately only bruised.  Having already crested the last climb of the day, I left my family to help those behind, and found this family's cart well cared for with at least 5 extra men helping out. 

Even with the challenges of this terrain our companies moved with amazing speed, which, I understand, challenged the support personnel as they tried to stay out of view!

We had our own challenges and troubles, which will be the subject of one final Trek post.  I've just about convinced Ma to speak up about some of these, as her perspective on the challenges is particularly touching.  I could write and write about this Trek, but capturing the immense spirit of the experience is impossible.  We've even talked about it, wondering what made it so wonderful, and discover only that we cannot put to words why we would not hesitate to accept the challenge again.

Pa Blankenagel - Trek Day 2: Good Morning

As we woke up on day 2 of the trek, we knew very little about what lie ahead.  Two things we did know were that we were cooking our own breakfast and that we would be pushing the handcarts a long way.  Pa's and Ma's from each family were getting up and making a bit of noise, but I slept until it was good and light out.  I dressed in my dirty clothes from the previous day, anticipating the refreshment of clean clothes on the third day.

Breakfast went well.  We had a couple of potatoes left over from dinner, so we added them to our eggs and sausage for breakfast burritoes.  Honestly, I've not had such a great breakfast on a camping trip.  It was hearty and tasty.  We had the great privelage of having a Bishop and his wife join us for meals.  They were very complimentary, and were even willing to help out.  As it turned out, they stuck close during the day's travel too.  They were not above digging in their heels and also uplifting us with encouraging words and pioneer stories.  Bishop Johnson's wife is Hawaiian, and when they arrived at meal time she always said, "Where the food is, there we are also!"  What a pleasure to become acquainted with them!

Ma and I were called to a camp meeting with the company leaders (the Stake Presidency) after breakfast.  I assigned a few tasks to our children and off we went.  In the meeting we discussed a challenge that would come near the end of the day and how we needed to help.  This challenge was proposed and accepted on the spot by all in attendance.  It would be hard, but we could do hard things.

We arrived back at camp to find our site mostly clear, and the cart half-packed!  I really loved that our children did not murmer, but dug in and got things done!  The dutch ovens were clean, and everyone had tidied up their gear.  Within about 20 minutes we were in line with our company and ready to move forward!

Pa Blankenagel - Trek Day 1: Gathering

** Sarah "Ma" and I spent last weekend on a Pioneer Trek, pushing handcarts across mountainous terrain with a "family" of youth ages 14 to 18.  We carried absolutely no electronic devices.  Thus there are no pictures to share at this time, but a camera crew did document the event, and we expect to see (and share) the result in November.  In the mean time, we'll try to describe a few experiences.

We've been preparing for the trek for some time now.  We went to a couple of training meetings to receive basic instructions on first aid, preventative care, and dutch oven cooking.  A list of equipment needs was provided, and in the week leading up to the trek we finally got around to filling the list.  We even contracted my mother to come care for our children while we were gone.

On the first day of Trek, Sarah and I loaded our gear and made our way to the church.  We went to our family meeting room and waited to meet our children.  They came in one at a time.  I'd say they seemed a little apprehensive, but generally ready for adventure.  A couple of them were all smiles, and that became contagious.  Soon it was time to move to the opening devotional, but we were still missing one of the nine children, Miranda.  We sat down at the front of the chapel, and then I went out to the sign-in area to find out about our missing child.  No word yet. 

At the end of the devotional, we sang "Come, Come Ye Saints".  As we started the 4th verse the first line struck me:  And should we die, before this journey's through...  We were already missing someone from our family.  She was extremely close to making it to what promised to be an amazing spiritual experience, but had not made the cut.  I choked up.  Which was a sign of things to come.  Honestly, I knew this was going to be a spiritual weekend, but for it to start with such emotion shocked me!

Then what joy...as we boarded the bus, Miranda found us!  We hadn't even left town, and failure was overcome.  I know, I know...silly little occurrence, but it meant a lot to have everyone there.

Forging Ahead

We just spent a weekend with about 200 youth on a pioneer trek.  It was amazing.  (More to come on that subject.)  In preparation, I decided to finish building a knife that I had started with the scouts.

I had three basic things to do on this knife to prepare it for the rigors of trekking:

1.  Harden the blade

2.  Attach the handle

3.  Build a sheath

The most tricky part would be hardening the blade, as I do not have ready access to an asedaline torch.  Here's how I did it:

I dug out a little propane torch and tried to warm the blade, but I couldn't get it hot enough.  Then, Monday night I had a thought to use briquettes to keep it hot while I moved the torch flame up and down the blade.  I discussed this with a co-worker who does some forge work, and he suggested setting up a blower to stoke the coals. 

Essentially, I ended up with a mini forge that worked quite well!  Not pictured here is the coleman blower (for air matresses) taped to the pipe. 

I used my daughters' playdough for a quenching medium.  This was the messy part of the job.  I mixed the playdough with motor oil and then placed it in a groove I'd cut in a block of wood.  I added  more oil to the mix for good measure.  The idea is to mold the clay to meet the shape of the cutting edge so as to mainly harden the cutting edge, yet keep the back edge somewhat ductile.  (I'll now refrain from a discussion on the properties of steel and phase diagrams.)

I used the torch a little, but eventually abandoned that, because the coals were doing quite well at warming the blade.  As soon as it was red hot, I pulled it out and quenched it.

I loved seeing the smoke roll off with the quench, but worried what people walking by might think about the column that was rising from behind my fence.

Here's the knife and sheath after use on the trek.  It held up well for the three days, although it took me over an hour to re-sharpen it after it was used to chop carrots on a cast iron cutting board!  I did cringe when I saw that happening, but afterward, I was not afraid to play Stretch (a game requiring throwing the knife into the dirt) with it. 

Subfloor - Construction Process

Welcome to the third and final part of the gripping miniseries "Subfloor"
Warning:  Lots of pics and text...this is the full story!

First of all, here is the culprit - the reason behind the entire project.  The concrete floor was poured in a manner that it slopes down to this drain from all directions.  At first we thought the drain didn't work, but thankfully it does work.

To begin with, we sealed the walls.  Someone had previously put a skim-coat of concrete along the base of this wall - presumably to seal the wall from outside moisture intrusion.  The skim-coat was delaminated in seveal spots and was not a good seal.  We chipped it away around the perimeter of the wall.  That was a LOT of work!  We actually found voids and gaps in the bottom of the wall where whe have seen moisture come in the house before.

After chipping all the old concrete away, we brushed it clean and then vacuumed most of the dust away.  We washed the surface and then applied a coat of Concrete Adhesive to the exposed concrete.

We applied a new skim-coat using self-leveling concrete mixed with the same Concrete Adhesive Additive that was painted on the wall.  Finally (although not pictured here), we painted the new concrete with a couple coats of concrete sealing paint.

With all of that done, we were ready for the real work to begin.  Enter Ralph.  Ralph was kind enough to pose in these pictures for me to demonstrate the work to be done.  Of course I would never be so rude as to expect Ralph to conduct work on his "vacation" visit to see us over the holiday weekend.  (Good thing we consider construction to be recreational at our house!)

Each board used along the concrete had to be shaved down in various places to mate up with the concrete well.  If you look closely here you will actually see sweat pouring down Ralph's forehead and spilling off the tip of his nose...evetually putting our floor drain to good use. (Are we sure we want to cover that?)  This task was quite aerobic until Ralph spent his birthday money to acquire the power plane.  That was a GREAT purchase!

After shaving one side of the board to mate with the floor, we set the board in place and then used a measuring stick and the laser level to mark the board for cutting.  We then ripped each board on the tablesaw such that the cut surface would face upward.  You see, we used pressure-treated lumber, so we wanted the treated side to be down.  (This was a precaution in case any flooding does occur in the future.) 

The next step was to use the Ramset nailer to fasten the ribs to the floor.

 

Eventually we had to pre-drill for the ramset nails to be able to penetrate deep enough into the concrete through the deeper rib sections.

With the ribs secured, we tacked a vapor barrier in place and then began placing plywood sheathing.  (Yes, that's sheathing and not sheeting...and No, I don't know why.)

We started from the center of the west wall and worked our way down and out.  The south wall was not square, and gained an inch for every sheet of plywood.  That meant a lot of custom cutting and fitting, but it was pretty straightforward...

except around the plumbing and water heater.  That area required a bit of extra care.

Before covering up the sewer cleanout, we opened it up and cleaned up the threads (to facilitate easier removal if ever necessary in the future) and then marked it's location.  In the near future I will cut a hole in the plywood here and build an access box to the cleanout.  In the mean time we have our fingers crossed that we don't need to use it any time soon!

That's pretty much it.  It was a fairly straight-forward process.  One major requirement throughout the job was good house-keeping.  (Please don't tell our wives we know how!)  The amount of wood shavings and sawdust created down in that basement was enough to fill our large garbage can to the brim.

Seriously, I can't thank Ralph enough for all the help on this project.  What we did in 2 full days together would have literally taken me weeks on my own!

Subfloor - Time Lapse

Welcome to part two of the gripping miniseries "Subfloor"

I hope it's obvious that this basement is in desperate need of being finished.  (I wish I had done a real time lapse project with the same angle from the same point, but oh well.)

Here is the basement looking (generally) WEST: 

And...here's the view from the EAST:

I finished about 30 minutes ago.  It feels so good to be done.  I'm going to lay down now.  We are excited to plan and lay out the next phases of the remodel, although we detest waiting for our savings to rebound!

Stay tuned for the last and final episode:  Subfloor - Construction Process

Subfloor - The Tools

Introducing "Subfloor" a new miniseries based in Spokane.

We have officially begun a much larger project than we have immediate time or money to complete:  The Basement!  This weekend we began laying the 'groundwork' for many working weekends to come.  Sarah kindly invited her father to join in on this expedition to build a subfloor across half of our basement.  It's a good thing too, because Ralph is an excellent carpenter AND he knows how to speak convincingly to his daughter:

BUT, the real purpose of this post is to show the tooling that Ralph and I had to gather for the event.  Cause every good project can be rated by the coolness of the tools required.  I mean, check this out:

You know...for when you have to attach wood to concrete.  Nothing like a little gun-powder to set the proper tone for a project!  Yes, those are .22 caliber shells.  Put a few hundred rounds through the gun this weekend.  We even discussed a "safe" method of determining how far that puppy would shoot a nail through the air, but decided we maybe didn't NEED to know that bad.

Next were the planes.  Ever set a straight board on an old concrete floor?  The concrete was very wavy.  Ralph invested in his "birthday present":

This little blue number saved us a lot of time and sweat.  It's a power plane.  Compared to the block plane on the right...well...actually...there's just no comparison.  The power plane eliminated trips out to the table saw (which was staged in the garage), saved my poorly measured cuts (at least the longer ones), and made matching the floor a breeze.  Hand planes still have a coolness factor, but were better put to use in fine-tuning than the mass-removal that the power plane accomplished.

Also, in the picture above is a lazer level.  This tool truly saved our bacon.  I'd already done a botched survey of the floor elevations, and if it hadn't been for that little orange box the new floor would have dips and bows to rival a motocross track.  Thanks to Gene Geddes for lending that puppy out.

And finally a small collection of miscellaneous items that we used A LOT. 

I'd say, based on this tooling (and judging by my expert level of carpentry) that this project rates at about 8.5 9.5 out of 10.  (Adjusted for the level of precision we maintained because of good tooling.)

Upcoming:  Subfloor - Time Lapse

Split It Up!

So...apparently I've got more to say, cause I just started a new blog.  I've been battling inside myself about whether or not to split my blog into two (one for family and one for cycling).  I made my decision. 

Now you can check up on my cycling HERE.  When I have particularly good content (judged by myself and maybe edited by Sarah) over there, I'll also post it on this blog.  However, content from this blog will rarely show up over there.

Go it?  Thanks for reading!

P.S.  Look forward to some construction blogging this weekend and early next week!