SeptOber...Now we are past the Autumnal Equinox, a day late here according to the difference between the common commercial calendar and the Equinox Stone; I have with great effort composed my Summer Letter.
Here is a picture from Nita's camera of the Equinox Sunrise coming through The Teeth of The Dike to the east. The image does not do justice to the sparkling blue-green diamond flashes of sunlight just before first contact. Easily a 7.4 on Little Jon's Scale of Sunrises.
End of the Summer here in Pie Town, for me anyhow. Mad Hatter's Tea & UnBirthday Party here this afternoon. Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Eat drink and be Merry for tomorrow we will drive.
But wait, there's MORE!
What do you call a nipple in the north?...
2014x10, Deming SKP ParkShorts in the wiring, not on me. This problem has likely been brewing for months. Years maybe. Seems I vaguely remember the fuse blowing a few months ago. Problem is in the main circuit that provides battery power to Ignition, Fuel Solenoid, Instruments, and who knows what else.
October, the tenth month, could might may be the opposite of March. A month of transition. A month of adventure, of moving. The Cat Drag'd Out of Pie Town on the 7th and "the coast is clear" rang through the ether, moving The Cat Drag'd Inn eastward, pressing on regardless, driven by need, Jack Frost nipping at the fantail.
October 7th, Tuesday, The Cat Drag'd Inn carried Nita from Pie Town to Socorro—first PAX in years—so she could meet another ride to ABQ. The bus worked well after four months of sitting still; not too many things fell off tables. After some resupply of necessary comestibles and searching for parts to repair TinyTruck's rear brakes, I headed south to Bosque del Apache for a nap and a walk. Right along about in front of an RV park I was trying to avoid, the motor lost power. No place to go, no time to get there, dead in water so to speak. A fuse had blown. Engine died. Coast to a stop on a narrow two-lane-no-shoulder road. Replaced the fuse and got another mile along the road. Blew again. Replaced again. I put in a bigger fuse (Snoopy's Third Law—Once it smokes you'll know what to fix...) and got to my favourite wide spot, a trail head near the Elmendorf Siding, where I promptly forgot about the whole thing and took a nap. A nice walk in the desert was the second order of business there but I should fix this wiring issue. No, on second thought, I think I will take a hike and save the shorts ircuit for another day.
Solar powered movie night... I've been studying Oliver Twist for the past year; read the book again and viewed around twenty of the nearly hundred movie versions or adaptations of Dickens's novel. Now I find there are four new renditions and not a few bar jokes.
Wenzday: Nice day. A quick walk and then a slower walk. Lunch. Nap. Letters. No thought of this loss of power issue. Rain over night. And then another walk the next day and some trash collecting along the roadside. On the third morning I headed back up the fuse-blowing road where the fuse blew again. This time a new fuse blew instantly. Something wrong here... Whatever's wrong is getting worse. I left the fuse blown this time and jury-rigged the fuel solenoid and starter with a couple of clip leads and got under way as far as a nice smooth carpark at a church in San Antonio where I set to work looking for the bad circuit in the ignition wiring.
That morning I spent searching and rewiring in the church yard of San Antonio was certainly productive but by no means miraculous. There were eight wires coming off the ignition switch's ACC and IGN posts and one wire, from a 10a fused source, going in to the common point. I removed all of them and attempted to measure the resistance of each. For the most part they were a few ohms each but not enough to blow a ten amp fuse.
Trying to trace them through the loom was out of the question. Energising them one at a time didn't prove to find the short but did help me identify the circuits of a few of them. The one major piece of knowledge was perhaps the not unreasonable assumption that the short had to be right nearby, under the instrument panel, since it was not present after moving the wires off the ignition switch. So I brought two new wires off the IGN switch to a ten-fuse distribution block and reconnected everything else with 1a fuses in each slot.
In the course of all that I did find one old wire that seemed to go nowhere. Perhaps with my pulling and tugging I'd disconnected the far end but nothing seems to be not working. The far end of this old wire is a bare push-on connector that could well have been a short to frame ground so I left that one off the new fuse block. Perhaps later I will find something that does not work for lack of that wire. In the meanwhile the rest of the drive to Deming was without incident. Been this route before: South to Hatch, across the Hatch Cutoff to Deming, overnight at the SKP caravanserai. This time, for want of a bit of adventure, I took the road less travelled: a longcut into the hills of Hillsboro, twisty-turny-hilly-narrow road, to look for the ghost town of Lake Valley, thence to Deming to the Rainbow's End SKP Park for the night of the 9th. On the 10th, after a few more attempts to find parts for TinyTruck's brakes, we pulled into Faywood Hot Spring to sit still and fix things until after the Thanksgiving Dishes are washed.
Now The "R" Word to go with the "N" Word...I wonder if I could write an E-word using only the construct: F-word, R-word, P-word, B-word and W-word alike... And then would the T-word make any S-word?
Octvember—Six Weeks In Hot WaterMy major task at Faywood Hot Spring was to rebuild the sun shades over several of the soaking pools. My 1923 Singer is certainly up to the task but has no reverse gear so the first thing I had to do was borrow Stef's newer machine and make sure it worked. Not only reverse but it has ten patterns and does button holes!
Several spools of thread—and a few nice comments about my work togs—later it was time to put my famous pickle-upsidedown pie in the oven for Thanksgiving Dinner. That was fun. After the dishes were done and after one last sunrise soak The Cat Drag'd Out, on the road to Tonopah. Tucson, Eloy, Train Spotter Hill... More visits along the Way. Chuck, Virginia & Cliff, Ward, dump and fill and scale at Gila Bend. (the bus lost a few pounds since last year—so did I for that matter.). Eventually I found my way to Train Spotter Hill. Huge long freights rumble past here every hour or so. Two-three-four engines pulling and another one or two pushing, up the grade to the height of land. A great place to unwind and meditate on the Summer past, get ready for another Winter at the Food Bank.
And a HHappy HHanukkah As well.
Not to mention a Belated Winter Solstice! And a Bountiful Boxing Day too! And an especially nice Twelfth Night.
Nappie New Years—By The Time Zones
I did that once upon a long ago. In a lodge, with an assortment of other friends and five bottles of bubbly. Right after supper: New Years London. Then an hour later: New Years Reykjavik. An hour after that, New Years Thule, followed closely by New Years Halifax. By the time we got to local midnight and New Years New Hampshire there were not too many of the group remaining awa ke so the fifth bottle was able to make two circuits round the table. This time only me and Hurricane Hazel. Good thing the bottle was only six ounces.
Fireworks for New YearsSnaping and buzzing, smoke and flames. The electric heater control relay exploded in the PV Control Panel locker. Not sure if the problem was the cheap Chinese knock-off components or a glitch on the power line. Good thing I was sitting right here else I'd be telling this tale from a tent in the yard. Lesson learnt.
Twelfth Night—Time to Get This Letter OutI have my W and my X back after an intermittent absence. No inconsiderable effort expended in the process of retrieval. Yesterday was a trying day. Trying to keep my cool in the face of adversity whilst surrounded by R-word stupidity was very trying indeed. Twice I lost it and apologised after. More and more I wonder why more people are not shot by those whose frustrations get the better of them. After all, Lazarus Long is quoted as holding the opinion that stupidity is a capital crime and should be dealt with accordingly. But at the same time I have to marvel at those people who seem unfazed by the inept management of government and commerce. How do they manage to remain calm?
For the next few weeks, mostly I will be playing in the back yard here. If you zoom in close enough you can make out The Cat Drag'd Inn basking in the sun.
Did I mention the egg factory abuilding just up the road from El Dorado Hot Spring? Big business has invaded this little village. The skyline of Tonopah is marred by seven bright steel barns where several million hens will live in cages on an eggsembly line. The egg company is buying out anyone who complains. El Dorado is for sale.
Oh yes... the nipple... It's called an Areola Borealis.
I do not know what I may
appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only
like a boy
playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a
pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great
truth lay all undiscovered before me.
—Sir Isaac Newton
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Copyright © 2015, A.J.Oxton, The Cat Drag'd Inn , Tonopah AridZona 85354-0313.