Building A Garage

The delivery guy dropped off a package on Tuesday afternoon. It was 9 large boxes and 1 small one on a triple long pallet.



Here's the boxes, unloaded and partially opened. That's a lotta parts!


First step is to do some assembly, lay down the foundation and put up the corners, main pillars and support beams. It's important brace the walls as at this point it can be blown down by a strong wind.



Slot A goes into Tab B and then attach the doohickey with alternating thingies. Got it. Wait...what?? I'm a guy. I hate instructions.


The 2 main trusses. They had to be assembled piece by piece by piece. There were a lot of parts.


This is where we left off yesterday. Most of the main supports are in and the trusses and roof beams are assembled and ready to install. That's what we'll be working on today along with putting on the exterior sides. We're still several days away from a completed garage.


More tomorrow.

Eric

NowhereMan Triathlon

I signed up to do Fatty's 100 Miles Of Nowhere. It's 100 miles on rollers or a short course and is a fundraiser in the fight against cancer. I have a special reason for participation this year. My Mother is in the end stages of terminal lung cancer. This is the one and only time she'll be able to see me complete this event. In that light I decided the day deserved the best effort I could give. If 100 miles on rollers is good maybe something more would be better. I settled on a triathlon. But how? I can't swim and even if I could doing laps in the tub seemed kinda boring. But I can lift and have this humble but really cool, mostly equipped gym right at my house. Presto, the NowhereMan Triathlon was born (With all due credit and respect to Fatty for the name. Please don't kill me).

It's a triathlon with a twist; 100,000 pounds lifted, 10K run and 100 miles on a bicycle, all without leaving the comfort of my home gym. I planned on doing it on Saturday but wandered around the house all day Friday, thinking about it and playing it out in my mind. Shortly after 2:00 PM I decided heck with this. I gathered up Lu and headed out to the gym to get things rolling.

Ma. This is for you.

A partial view of the gym with the bicycle already hooked up to the rollers. That's the official 100 Miles Of Nowhere plate on the bike. The whole thing was done in my humble home gym out behind my house. The gym equipment for lifting, the run on a treadmill and the bike on rollers. Never left the gym except once to use the facilities which were in my own house. How cool is that?

2:30 PM and the official start.

The scoreboard, depressingly free of completed disciplines.

Lifting was up first. As the Big Board shows, I did 7 exercises. The totals went like this:
Bench Press - 100 reps @ 185 pounds = 18,500
Barbell Curl - 100 reps @ 70 pounds = 7,000
Dips - 100 reps @ 245 pounds = 24,500
Rows - 100 reps @ 185 pounds = 18,500
Overhead Extensions - 100 reps @ 100 pounds = 10,000
Shoulder Raises - 100 reps @ 55 pounds - 5,500
Deadlifts - 60 reps @ 200 pounds = 12,000
Squats - 20 reps @ 200 pounds = 4,000
If my math is correct that's 100,000 pounds in 680 repetitions for a 147 pound per lift average. The first time I did 100,000 pounds in training for this it took me 1250 reps. I started to do squats, intending to do 100 reps but at rep number 10 felt a twinge in my right knee. On the second set of 10 it went from a twinge to a full blown owie and squats were out and maybe the entire triathlon. I switched to deadlifts and managed 60 reps before the pain became too great. I added some weight and reps to shoulder raises (I was only planning on doing 60 at 50 pounds) and made up the weight.

Take a look at that face. It was about this time that I recognized there might be a problem and was considering how to continue.

Here's Lu loading plates. She spent the day and night setting up, bringing me food and drinks and just generally coaching and cheer leading. Not to mention the recovery massages. Love that woman.

Here's the what the final board looked like. Not exactly according to the plan but done.

With lifting done it was to event number 2. I was planning on biking at this point but Lu convinced me that my arms were so pumped that supporting myself on the bike might be problematic so the 10K was next.

The problem knee. It kept me from running the pace I wanted but held together long enough to finish. I did no better than a fast walk and a light jog but I finished every step.

6.2 miles aka 10 Kilometers. The time was disappointing but I finished.

The mid point meal complete with a smile and a thumbs up. Mac and Cheese with bacon bits (because everything is better with bacon), whole wheat bread and a glass of milk. I went through about a gallon of water, a half gallon of Gatorade and a tall milk. Yes, that is indeed a drill press behind me. Don't ask.

Ok. On to the bike. My arms were still pumped but I considered this the easiest part of the whole deal. Hey, we're all wrong from time to time. Right?
The obligatory Zero miles shot.

I was going to do the whole ride in my official Team Fatty Jersey but...

Fatty, I love you and Twin Six but by this point my arms were still so pumped the jersey was cutting off circulation to my hands. I went with something a little more...open.

Man, this is hard. In addition to a triathlon this was my first Century on the bike. I found myself looking down at the odometer thinking "I must almost be done by now. Come on, let me almost be done by now" only to discover I still had 75 miles to go. Oof. It was grind it out time so I put my head down and put in the miles.

The finale was most satisfying.

And just like that it was done! The clock on the wall said 11:26 PM.

The official time was kept by Lu on her official Ironman Timex

8:55:42. 8 hours, 55 minutes, 42 seconds.

The final Big Board.

I wanted to do this event for a couple of reasons.
First to support Team Fatty and all his good works and do my part in The Fight.
Second to prove to myself that I could do it.
Finally, and most importantly, to let my Mother know how I feel about her. Ma, I love you more than I could possibly say. I did this because you couldn't. It's my small way of honoring you, your life and your fight. Cancer may separate us but you will ever be in my heart. Fight your fight and know I'll be beside you the whole way. And when your fight is done I will take it up as my own. That is my promise to you.

And so it is done. My legs feel like a bag of angry cats. Lu has been taking good care of me with plenty of Tylenol and leg massages. I've spent the day sleeping and eating anything and everything that gets near me. Now, as far as I can tell I'm the first to do this particular brand of triathlon. If so I believe that makes me the world record holder. If not I'm still the record holder in the Male, 51.9 year old (I'll be 52 in a couple of weeks), Clydesdale, Hurricane Utah, Home Gym, Balding division. I declare myself satisfied. And hey, maybe someone else will step up next year and go for my title. Oh, almost forgot one thing. I started the tri at 245 pounds. After it was done I weighed myself again, thinking I'd see how much weight I'd lost. Kinda like the last chance workout on Biggest Loser. I weighed in at 247. I have to be the only guy in America who can do 9 hours of straight exercise and gain 2 pounds. Jillian would be so disappointed.

Thank you to all of you, my friends, for your support and encouragement. A big Thank You goes to Fatty. The fight goes on my friend but as long as people like you exist how can we possibly fail? Thanks for letting me participate and honor my Mother. I owe you.

Eric "Six"

Honey Do

So it was time to do one of the honeydo's highest on my list of things I really, really did not want to do. Taking out the Jasmine vine out front. Why now?'Cuz I don't want to end up like this guy.

This is what that mess looked like before I started. Each wing of the vine is 16 feet long and a little over 5 feet high. There are 3 main roots and, as anyone who has ever messed with these things knows, about a million little roots.

Started by pushing it over as far as it'd go because I'm a gorilla and that's what gorilla's do.

It's been up for 20 years or so and the 4x4's were rotted pretty badly. I pushed and pushed but surprise, surprise it completely failed to fall over and onto my trailer. It was pretty obvious some cutting was needed. Cue my double bitted axe because I broke my chain saw doing the fence. Yeah, I'm that guy.

Half down and ready to be dragged away. Yeah, that's my help laying on the lawn sunning themselves with the cooler nearby. Oh, turns out the vine was heavy. Really heavy. Like about 500 pounds of heavy. Oh, my aching 50 year old legs. That's about 2 hours of solid, backbreaking work. Well..... work for an old guy anyway.

Hey, I can see the street!

And the house.

One down and one to go. Luckily for me my timing worked out perfectly and Lu got home just in time to help out with half number 2. Tell me that isn't a frickin' mess.

Number 2 is gone and Lu poses next to her triumph. She finally got me to finish what I've been swearing I'd do for the last 15 years. Remember that bear in the procrastination poster? He's got nothing on Lu. Man, I need some window treatments now. Sigh.

For comparison. That trailer is 5 feet wide and 10 feet long. I'm 6 feet tall. That is a pile o' Jasmine. Unseen under that pile is about 1200 pounds of broken concrete and brick that used to be 2 benches (you can see one of them in the before photo). I'm thinking I'm gonna have to cough up a lung at the dump.

The After picture. Please ignore the partial glove on the left. I was lacking adult supervision at that moment. We can now see out and, even more importantly, it no longer looks like the entrance to the Brazillian Jungle Ride at Retarded Otto's Amusement Park. My neighbors will be so happy.

All this just so I can rent the place out and someone else will miss out on the joys of Jasmine pollen and Jasmine trimming.

Becoming a slum lord better be worth all this effort.

Six

New Site

We all have, at one time or another, dealt with crappy neighbors. Well, the folks at It's A Security Light are apparently living in or at least near the seventh circle of Hell.

Go, read and revel in the thought that thease are not your neighbors. The snark is of the highest quality.

Six

Gooseberry Mesa

A couple of years ago Lu and I bought her grandparents home in Hurricane, Utah. It's a modest home, built in sections by her grandfather. The original house and the first addition were masonry construction so, yeah, I have some masonry interior walls. It's going to need some wiring (lots of 2 prong outlets), plumbing (copper attached to iron with no anodes) and flooring (carpeting in the kitchen?!). First was the water heater.

Last time we visited the house was in February. While there I noticed that both the cold water inlet and the hot water outlet pipes were leaking. Not bad but enough. The water had gotten inside the electric water heater and corroded the hookups. Enough to trip the breaker. Yikes. We turned off the water and power and headed back to California so we could decide what to do.

I did some research on tankless and decided against it for now. The electric one needs 3 separate 20 amp 240 volt feeds and a 200 amp box. That means a total re-wire of the old house and I'm not quite ready to do that at the moment. So, new regular water heater.

I went out last Wednesday, armed with tools and an inadequate plumbing skill set. Luckily I have a good friend (Hey Tom) who knows everything. He clued me in and stated his confidence in my ability to do this rather simple talk. Disaster will surely follow such a pronouncement.

For those of you who are home remodel savvy, you no doubt already know about Gator Clamps (also known as Shark Clamps. At least in Utah). These little plumbing wonders are the greatest thing since the invention of sex. They allow even the dimmest bulb to do basic copper pipe plumbing without sweating in the joints. Sweating in is a vast misnomer for attaching copper pipes to various elbows, devices and attachments through the use of solder, the heat from a portable blast furnace and something called "Flux". "Flux" is apparently a magic substance that causes solder to decide to flow into a copper joint when used by a plumbing expert and third degree burns to the digits of amateurs when used by same. They are a wonder and if I ever meet the inventor I will kiss him full on the mouth in public (any chance the inventor was female???). Leakless joints with a simple push. I LOVE them.

Through the use of this fabulous device I was able to install a new 50 gallon water heater in the space where tho old one was. The exact center of my house. Just inside the door from the living room to the bedrooms. In the middle of everything. Yeah, I need to move it. Later. I also installed new clothes washer hoses. Baby, I'm a now a plumber! Got the butt crack to prove it.

Since I got done early I called my best friend (the selfsame Tom of the awesome plumbing skills) and invited him and his dog Mugsy down for some riding. Southern Utah has some of the most awesome MTB trails in the country and most of them are mere minutes from my front door. Go ahead. Be jealous.

I decided it was time to tackle the Gooseberry Mesa. We loaded up and headed out. The trail head is at the end of several miles of very bad dirt road. The area has had some bad rains so those roads were also muddy with water filled potholes approximately the size of Lake Michigan. Still, I am the illegitimate son of Parnelli Jones so we had no difficulties getting there, screams from the passenger seat notwithstanding (Tom, you're such a wuss. We were no where near that cliff. Missed it by at least 6 inches. Big sissy).

This is Tom and his "dog" Mugsy. Mugsy is a 9 month old, 100 pound Bull Mastiff. He's also the biggest goofball dog on the planet. If he's actually a dog and not the unholy offspring of an real dog and water buffalo. That dog is big. His head is the size of a basketball. Did I mention he's 9 months old? Tom figures he's got another 40 to 50 pounds to still put on. Sheesh. BTW, yes, those are Tom's bike riding clothes. No spandex. No cleated shoes. No cool mesh riding shirt and high tech water hydration system. Jeans and a t-shirt. It was cold so he wore his long sleeve with the front left unbuttoned in that hip, Jack Nicholson if he was a dork kinda way. All the other bike guys saw him and I was like totally embarrassed. Love ya Tom.

This is me and Mugsy. You will please note that I am properly attired for a day on the trails. Cool riding jacket, neat riding trousers (not pants mind you, trousers) with chamois padded spandex underneath and cleated MTB riding shoes. Fabulous. Note the Gooseberry Mesa sign for those of you who suspect that I may be making the whole thing up. Also please note Mugsy's head and chest. I'm 6 foot and about 17 1/2 stones (Hah!) for reference.

Tom wussed out part way through the ride. Something about not having ridden for a year and neck surgery and a bad back, Blah, blah, blah. Typical. I suspect he's probably a closet hiker. Still, a good time was had by all. Tom swears he's going to start riding again and kick my ass next time. Heh heh.

I'm heading back at the end of the month. I'm installing some new flooring in the kitchen, water heater room and the man cave (aka the basement. More on that later). Did I mention I'm retired? And bored?

Hey Tom. Up for Gooseberry again? We'll get you some spandex.

And a little scarf for Mugsy.

Six

Poor Me

I'm at the Utah house. I've got a cold and I have a truck and trailer of crap to unload.

And no Lu to pity me, coo over me and make it all better.

It's so hard to be a guy.

Six

Tools

As many of you know, I'm a tool guy. I love tools. Owning them and using them. Mostly improperly. Pop sent me the following list.
All I can say is Yeah, pretty much.
Six

Men's Tools

DRILL PRESS:
A tall upright machine useful for suddenly snatching flat metal bar stock out of your hands so that it smacks you in the chest and flings your beer across the room, denting the freshly-painted project which you had carefully set in the corner where nothing could get to it.

WIRE WHEEL:
Cleans paint off bolts and then throws them somewhere under the workbench with the speed of light. Also removes fingerprints and hard-earned calluses from fingers in about the time it takes you to say, "Oh, shit!"

SKILL SAW:
A portable cutting tool used to make studs too short.

PLIERS:
Used to round off bolt heads. Sometimes used in the creation of > blood-blisters.

BELT SANDER:
An electric sanding tool commonly used to convert minor touch-up jobs into major refinishing jobs.

HACKSAW:
One of a family of cutting tools built on the Ouija board principle ... It transforms human energy into a crooked, unpredictable motion, and the more you attempt to influence its course, the more dismal your future becomes.

VISE-GRIPS:
Generally used after pliers to completely round off bolt heads. If nothing else is available, they can also be used to transfer intense welding heat to the palm of your hand.

OXYACETYLENE TORCH:
Used almost entirely for lighting various flammable objects in your shop on fire. Also handy for igniting the grease inside the wheel hub out of which you want to remove a bearing race.

TABLE SAW:A large stationary power tool commonly used to launch wood projectiles for testing wall integrity.

HYDRAULIC FLOOR JACK:Used for lowering an automobile to the ground after you have installed your new brake shoes, trapping the jack handle firmly under the bumper.

BAND SAW:A large stationary power saw primarily used by most shops to cut good aluminum sheet into smaller pieces that more easily fit into the trash can after you cut on the inside of the line instead of the outside edge.

TWO-TON ENGINE HOIST:
A tool for testing the maximum tensile strength of everything you forgot to disconnect.

PHILLIPS SCREWDRIVER:
Normally used to stab the vacuum seals under lids or for opening old-style paper-and-tin oil cans and splashing oil on your shirt; but can also be used, as the name implies, to strip out Phillip screw heads.

STRAIGHT SCREWDRIVER:
A tool for opening paint cans. Sometimes used to convert commonslotted screws into non-removable screws and butchering your palms.

PRY BAR:
A tool used to crumple the metal surrounding that lip or bracket you needed to remove in order to replace a 50 cent part.

HOSE CUTTER:
A tool used to make hoses too short.

HAMMER:
Originally employed as a weapon of war, the hammer nowadays is used as a kind of divining rod to locate the most expensive parts adjacent to the object we are trying to hit.

UTILITY KNIFE:
Used to open and slice through the contents of cardboard cartons delivered to your front door; works particularly well on contents such as seats, vinyl records, liquids in plastic bottles, collector magazines, refund checks, and rubber or plastic parts. Especially useful for slicing work clothes, but only while in use.

SON OF A BITCH TOOL:
Any handy tool that you grab and throw across the garage while yelling,"Son of a bitch" at the top of your lungs. It is also, most often, the next tool that you will need.