We had a great hitch this time around. The blasting team left just as the excavator got to a shelf of bedrock. It looked like the machine would have to sit for the next six days until the mountain got its bed rocked by emulite. We chewed on the problem over dinner that night and decided that we should try to get the machine over the shelf ourselves.
The day started with mucking about with a grip-hoist. I hatched a half-baked plan to tie off to an alder or ten and crab my way up the hill. We didn't feel confident about anchors and the like so we left the contraption in the conex and headed up the hill.
There's plenty of time to think on our commute. Ari thought about breaker bars and I thought about islands.
Ari attacked the bedrock with the breaker bar while Buttons and I gathered hemlock branches and bolts to make cribbing. Once the cribbing was in place, I dug a hole and filled the hemlocks with dirt and made a ramp up and over the shelf. I had to keep robbing Peter to pay Paul as I moved the island of dirt up the ramp and eventually over the bedrock. The most satisfying day of the project.
Then on my days off, someone shot at my truck as I zipped down Minnesota and blew out my back window. So now I've been shot at and I can check that off my list, which is nice.
Day seven. TRAGEDY STRIKES.
1 day ago