Well Done

When it rains it pours goes the old adage...unfortunately I had to live it first hand Friday night.

I should have suspected the continued pummeling when I parked the parts runner in the freshly plowed parking lot. As I got out from behind the wheel, a huge gust of wind blew my watch cap off my head! I grumbled as I looked in vain for it. Oh, there it is...some 40 feet away!

Walking up the shop road with the wind at my back, I had no idea what faced me...until I walked into the groomer's ready room and felt the defeated vibe...three cats down will do that...especially when there's so much work to be done!

Once everyone punched in, my fate was sealed...everyone would have a cat to run once Driller finished his shift in the Terrain Park. Two of us would have to run winchcats, but we wouldn't be hooking up and pulling new trails...just digging and the basics...this was no time to wallow into bottomless secondary runs!

Of the three downed cats, the Bison would be the quickest fix...once the Graveyard Wrench punched in. My Ol' Faithful was still awaiting a new injector so I took it upon myself to run the Shop Cat until further notice. I wanted all the guys to at least run BR350s...the guys running winchcats as free groomers felt put upon enough already...

I set about getting the Shop Cat started...I rounded up the hot shot battery charger and an extension cord. Eskimo hauled me and the charging kit up to the parking hill and back-bladed away the drifted snow around the old warhorse. I embarked and thanked him for the ride, and slogged to the cat.

The Shop Cat is a patchwork quilt of retired front line groomers. She began life as a 2001 Bombardier BR275 Olympic Winchcat.  We bought her on the cheap because she was a demo cat. Bombardier made a fleet of these Olympic Cats available to the Salt Lake City Olympic Organizing Committee for use at the 2001 Olympic Trials, the dress rehearsal for the 2002 Salt Lake Winter Games. The cat has the signature livery featuring the 2002 Olympic Emblem, a stylized snowflake. Ours had just a few hundred hours on the clock when we took delivery, and she served as a frontline winchcat for several years before being put out to pasture.

On the back, the winch has been replaced by a tilting aluminum pickup bed from another retired demo groomer...one of the two Euro-Spec BR400MPs we bought around Y2K. One of those EuroCats was my daily driver, I hated those pickup beds...they did a great job of totally obscuring the tiller's cutter bar...not to mention how much snow they'd catch in a shift...snow that you have to shovel off at the end of your shift!

I schlepped the charger around to the pickup bed, brushed the snow from the batteries, and hooked up the leads. I ran the extension cord to the power pole and plugged her in. Back at the Shop Cat, I could hear the charger doing it's thing. I turned the key...nothing, no lights either...I looked around for the Main Electrical Shut Off Switch...nothing...then I remembered that our mechanics had installed the big switches in the cabs back in the day, and that the OEM location was back in the engine compartment. A little more snow sweeping and I found the Mains. Back in the throne, I turned her over...I got a good five seconds before the starter drained the pitiful battery bank.

I tried again every few minutes before I got some encouraging coughs and ignitions, but still not enough electrons to get her to catch. I busied myself looking about the cab. I put the rear view mirror back on it's stalk. I turned her over again...more good sounds, but still the Cummins engine refused to run on it's own before the juice ran out.

I think I know how the thoroughbred race horses feel in the starting gate. Waiting more than five minutes between tries was torture. Finally she caught and stayed running. It was almost 2AM

I still couldn't relax...the lights were dim, the heater blower was barely moving any air, and the voltmeter hadn't moved one millimeter...diesels don't need any electricity to run once they've started. I kept the lights off while I warmed it up...I figured the the Graveyard Wrench could council me on the cat's foibles...he'd be in any minute. I throttled up to drive down to the fuel dock and the volt meter came to life at 1000RPM...I'm saved!

I put the charging gear back in the shop and got my things arranged in the old cat's cab. I filled it up and the Graveyard Wrench walked in. I gave him the thumbnail of the state of the fleet, grabbed a handheld 2-way, and finally rumbled off into the night...now it was 0300...

I started mashing down the homeruns and maze areas...it was really deep. I could barely see...the defroster just wasn't getting the job done. Cats of this era had windshield defrosters on a timed circuit. Turn on the defroster and it turns itself off after 15 minutes. There's an indicator light on the dash that shows when the defroster is on, but it's notorious for failing...today's cats still have the timer, but the timer resets every time you move the blade, so the windshield defroster only goes off when the cat's not working.

I turned the heat up and tried to run with the window open, but those gusty winds were bringing in more moisture than the heat was moving out. It was like a sauna in there...without the relaxing part.

I ran this way for seven hours...now I know how a pot roast feels coming outta the oven!

The Bison was back online around 0600, and my Ol' Faithful was ready to rumble at 0900.

I can't wait to groom in the 21st Century tonight! (Though I'd be lying if I said these days don't remind me of 1981/1982)

Saga In Search of a Soundtrack

Let's not do that again! Whatta night last night.

When we walked up the shop road at midnight, there was a yellow Bison parked with it's blade in the vehicle shop and Driller, the lead swing shift park builder was elbow-deep into a broken hydraulic hose replacement.

Up on the hill, our newest CenterX Bison was down with ECM trouble as well.

Not an auspicious beginning...fortunately the Work Orders were light on grooming and beefy on the digging side of things.

When it all shook out, we would be OK...a cat for everyone, the Graveyard Wrench would roll in before 0300, and we'd get to catch up on some overdue digging before Friday's forecast pummeling. Happily I roared off to do battle with our ever burgeoning snow pack.

My usual go-to podcast of "The Don Geronimo Show" has been on vacation this week, and I didn't fancy talk radio politics, so I cued up Steely Dan's "Everything Must Go" album.

My mission was to dig out our moving carpet beginner lift. These are delicate, slightly inclined "moving sidewalks" like you'd see in most airports, but without the escalator-style moving handrails. Ours is about 200 feet long with a rise of maybe 15 feet. It stands on an earth berm about eight feet tall, atop leveling jacks that are another three feet high.

Five or six weeks ago, I was pushing snow across the bunny hill to hide the carpet's underpinnings and bury the top of the berm...last night I needed to remove the new snowpack. The carpet was now in a trench 5-6 feet deep!

As I began to backblade the pack away from the carpet, my 2-way crackled...It was the first guy out after me. "Dave, do you want some help on the bunny hill?" "No thanks", I replied. "Why don't you start with your usual program, 1st two secondaries only tonight". "OK" He came back as he roared by.

I turned Steely Dan back up, and went about exposing the moving sidewalk. I cleared the north side down to just under, and made a few passes to windrow away the spoils from the carpet. When the album ended, I started it from the beginning again.

About a third of the way up the other side, the 2-way crackled again: "Dave, my tiller's broken, I can't lift it, and the stinger mount welds are broken" "Pack up your stuff, and I'll come and get ya" I radioed back. We were barely an hour and a half into our shift.

I roared up the hill and surveyed the broken Bison. I ferried the operator back to the shop, and asked him to stay...he could help the graveyard wrench get the crippled cat off the hill, and help fix it...The 2-way came to life...one of the winch pilots just blew a hose, and couldn't lift his tiller, but wasn't stuck. He was right at his pick, and could drive it back to the shop.

I radioed Driller, and asked if he had another hose fix in him tonight. "Sure" said Driller.

I dropped the operator off at the shop, thanked him for his perseverance, and he and Driller got ready for the disabled winch. I went back to my moving sidewalk project, and switched my tunes to Jane's Addiction...time to power forward!

Digger called again...they were out of the hydraulic fittings he needed to make the new hose for the winch...I was starting to feel that Bunker Mentality coming on...

At 0300, there was no sign of Graveyard Wrench...that's when someone on the radio said: "Yesterday was his birthday" Digger chimed in: "Jesus, St Patrick's Day birthday?" Digger continued: "I'm in the shop, and this week's schedule has him off tonight" "We'll try to get the Shop Cat started if we can find the blade for it...it's got the forklift mounted up front now..."

Just about the time I finished my second Jane's Addiction album, and cleaning up the bunny hill, Driller called and said they were ready to jumpstart the shop cat.

I rumbled in, parked next to the shop cat and waited while the boys hooked everything up. I unplugged my iPod, turned off the 2-way, and shut down the stereo...I didn't want to tempt The Fates! I scrolled through my display and stopped on the volt meter page. My cat usually runs 28V-28.5V. With the jumper cables hooked to the shop cat, the voltage dropped to 27.2V.

I revved it up to the governor, Driller turned the key...nothing...not even a solenoid clicking...

I soldiered on...I topped up my fuel, and headed back to the bunny hill. I knocked out all the grooming that needed back-ups...dug out the top bunny chair terminal and tailored the ramp, dressed up the maze at the bottom of the bunny chair, and feathered the pack to the lodge decks and the ramps that land on the roads and parking lots.

I called Jeweler who was working farther up the mountain and quizzed him: "How's it going for you tonight? We laughed, and he said: "I know I'm behind, but we'll just go forward" I didn't want to pile on, but I entreated Jeweler to: "Take four feet out from in front of the Race Shack, two passes wide". "Don't make a project of it, just take a bladefull every time you go by" "10-4" Jeweler replied.

I moved up the hill and finished the secondary with the broken cat on it. My phone rang...

The Boss was almost laughing when he asked: "How's it going, Dave?" "Driller just called me and related your tale of woes" I said: "We'll be OK, it's a short list...as long as nothing else goes down...knock on wood"

We "got 'er done" and were back at the fuel dock in time for the lifts to turn at 8:45. The crew could finally sigh in relief. Truth is, we kicked it. We did the whole grooming list plus two short extra trails, and we got better than half of the digging done. Strong work for sure.

In the groomer's ready room I thanked the guys again. We agreed that someone should have recorded the 2-way all night...our night unfolded like a novel in search of a sound track.