Sliding into an Amish existence
Feb 23, 2009 10:21 AM, By Jeff Ryan
That's
when reality walked up and whapped me upside the head like I'd stolen its
little brother's sack lunch at recess.
The very top of my bale caught the overhead electrical wire that supplies power
to the waterer for the east half of the feedlot. In an instant, the lovely
triplex wire was draped across the highway guardrail fence to my left and to my
right. Amazingly, there was no shower of sparks or sizzle of really fresh beef,
still on the hoof, hitting the grill.
I backed up and assessed the situation. No dead critters anywhere. No strange
tingling sensation on my person, other than a dull throb in the pit of my
stomach. Better yet, no assembled crowd of onlookers from the working chute
area to marvel at my Disney-On-Ice-Meets-Kramer maneuvers.
Sadly, though, to my left was the stump of the big 4 x 6 pole that serves as
the conduit for power to the waterer and the spot from which my stadium
lighting shines down on the assembled critters for late-night heat detection in
the summer.
First things first. Went back to the main utility pole in the yard and cut the
power to the whole place. Then I went to the working chute area to see if
anything taking place there needed juice. It did not, but the crew said they
had been impressed when they heard my incident moments before. Fortunately, all
they heard was the crack of wood as the pole snapped, not the sizzle of
electrical current coming in contact with all things nearby.
We went out to the pen to move some cattle around and see if we could at least
get the snapped pole straightened up enough to get the wire out of the way. The
wire hadn't come loose at either end, so maybe we'd get lucky and be able to
turn the power on again and get juice flowing if everything was clear of a
short.
This was about 4:40 on a Thursday, so I knew I wouldn't get an electrician out
there yet that day. With typical northeast Iowa January warmth, having no power
to the waterers to run the heating element in them overnight was probably not
going to be a good thing. A call to the electrician revealed that no one was
around at the moment, but the receptionist would put me at the top of the
agenda for morning.
We all took a position back from the feedlot as I threw the switch to restore
power again. Again, there were no sparks and no flashes of light. As amateur
electricians, we felt that no sizzle sure looked like success to us!
"There's nothing to see here. Go back to your homes!" Time to
call it a day and wait for Friday.
After discussing my adventures with The Chairman, it was decided that we'd
replace the 4 x 6 post with a 6 x 6 instead. The lumberyard didn't have any 6 x
6 posts when we put the other one in, so we went with the slightly smaller
post. This time, we'd go big. A call was placed first thing Friday morning for a
delivery from the lumberyard. It arrived not long after that, even before I had
a chance to completely clear the yard of yet another snow event.
This was the pole where an incident had taken place in October 2006 when we
originally strung up the overhead wire. It involved The Chairman, a
high-reaching ladder, a large thud, and a call to 9-1-1 as said Chairman was in
a heap on the concrete. He wasn't in the hospital for more than a few days.
While there, he developed an aversion to ladders and overhead power lines. His
inclination to climb poles and string wire pretty much ended that day.
On this lovely January day, we went about the installation of the new pole. Two
guys don't just grab a 20-foot-long six-by-six and toss that puppy up like a
volleyball net in the yard. We got the loader tractor and a log chain and got
the pole into position after a few attempts.
Now you have a pole standing upright in the proper position along the fence
next to the waterer. What do you say we wrap it with duct tape to secure it to
the railroad tie post next to it and call it a day?
The vote on that motion ended in a 1-1 tie. Repeatedly.
The Chairman does not cobble. We would take this new post and run a long piece
of ready-bolt through it to secure it to the railroad tie. A nut welded on one
end of the ready-bolt would serve as the bolt head. Slide it through the
railroad tie, then the 6 x 6, toss a washer on, tighten the nut down and you've
got yourself a well-anchored pole once again.
Amazingly, and against the way everything else had gone for me in the last 24
hours, this activity went extremely well. We got the pole drilled, lined up and
secured. It was now 10:45 and we still didn't have any electricians.
Just then, my phone rang. It was one of the electrician brothers. He sounded
somewhat sheepish. Turns out the "top-of-the-list" spot I had been
placed on was a Post-It Note on the giant bulletin board in their office. He
had just found it among the other random notes. By the way, his brother and the
bucket truck for this job were already out of town on a job a couple hours ago.
It would be the end of the day before they could get to me.
Nice. All the electronic communication gadgets in our world today and my own
personal Edison Brothers are sticking with Post-It Note technology.
So we waited. At 3:45, power was once again restored. Seeing as how the
waterers had been almost 24 hours without power, and seeing as how it was in
the double digits below zero, restoration of power and restoration of water flow
to the herd did not coincide. The waterers were still frozen. So we gathered
every thermos and water jug every seed corn and implement dealer has given us
over the years and shuttled hot water from the other farm. It felt like a
high-end Amish bucket brigade of sorts.
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