The Invaders - part 0 - plates

So we are the invaders...

The dreaded influx that have clogged Portland,

jamming up traffic,

stealing the good jobs,

raising up housing costs...

Born from a community in San Diego,

Point Loma,

that kinda prides itself on localism,

I'm aware of the importance (to me) of blending in.

Nothing's worse than the out of state plate guy,

driving like an idiot,

taking up valuable space.

When I was a kid,

we visited Oregon.

I remember seeing a bunch of these bumper stickers.

In the 70's and 80's Oregonism was very strong,

and about 10 years ago the new wave created another push back.

Now it seems like the invaders are winning.

The locals are retreating to Washington and the outer regions,

the city locals are like the French in WWII.

I've written a "how to" before about this blending in,

and acquired a couple old trucks,

which really fake deep Oregon roots.

Coffee and craft beer drinking newbs 

are most likely to drive the subaru line...

In October the van brought up its last load north,

and it was here to stay,

or that's the plan.

It was time to do the out of state registration dance.

Oregon has a bevy of plate styles,

the extra fees partially go to the representative need.

Bike riders, 

fisherman,

environmentalists

wine-o's...

How to choose?

One of the cooler versions is the original Pacific Wonderland plates,

and similar to California's black plates,

they did a reissue.

Of course there's a $100 gift fee to the historical society,

but what do you do for self consciousness.

While I was blowing our hard earned money

on frivolous vanity,

the DMV clerk said to make sure you use special fasteners.

Thieves steal plates and sell or transfer them.

What?

Well in Oregon the plates are not state owned.

You don't turn them in,

they are the owners property.

You can sell your car,

and keep the tags.

There's no plate # check to transfer either,

for a $7 transfer you can bring in a pair and register them.

"Write your legislator to change it" she said...

At that moment I realized I just blew $100 for nothing.

Instead of fixing a leak,

I'd rather reap the benefits!

The coolest Oregon plates are the old yellow ones,

with the embossed month.

I found the month we needed on eBay,

and pushed my luck on a DMV transfer.

The plate # was from a discontinued # series,

but these were from a 1966 VW that was still in the computer.

The wild card being they were still a live plate.

Luckily the transfer completed!!

Now the van looks like an local snow beaten work truck...

A huge giveaway are our two SoCal dogs.

These thin-skinned pups aren't too fond of the cold...

TP

mowin for $$

So part of this newish job is actually mowing grass.

Effin lotsa grass to mow!!

It would seem boring,

and at times it is,

mainly the wide expanses.

Fortunately there are only 3 of those parts.

Even then things happen that are like...

What the heck are those beaver bites?

They call that girdling the trees.

Or how about...

holey chit there's a bald eagle!!

Or holey chit there's 3 bald eagles

fighting over a Canadian goose body!!

Half the time mowing is basically a form 

of technical off-roading,

the Toro 580D is a 4WD crawler,

with acres of hills, berms, trees 

and other obstacles to navigate.

This part is called the east berm or bank,

a long gradual side slope,

that runs the entrance to the track.

This is where it gets tricky,

the side wing cutters act like outriggers

as well as weight distributors. 

The 3 black knobs control the hydraulics.

On a light left slope like this,

both sides are down all the way,

the lower deck pushing down as it keeps us upright,

uphill deck on reserve to go up for balance.

The knob control looks like this.

Thumb pushing down,

pointer on guard.

On a steeper right slope the position is reversed,

but the same.

Both decks down,

the 16' width really grabs the slope.

Here's the hand position,

right knob pushed down,

left on guard...

On guard for the steeper slope ahead!!

Here's where it's important to raise the uphill deck,

giving traction to the uphill wheels.

Even then there's a little bit of sliding involved.

The below pic was in the early days,

and looking back is a definite holey chit moment.

If you see the mow mark I overextended the downhill turn,

and had to raise the deck quickly

as the machine lost the traction to turn.

(Rear steer on a front heavy machine)

The Toro 580D doesn't handle well going straight downhill,

and with the guide wire in the way 

there's not much room for error.

I don't get that close anymore!!

Easier to send in guys with weedwackers...

Moving the sticks almost comes naturally,

and I'll give Chief credit,

with its 2-knob shifter system.

People always ask how hard is it to shift.

Muscle memory is powerful!

When slipping down the dirt hills,

it's surprising how automatic controlling the hydraulics becomes.

Months ago I showed how the frame actually broke,

now ya know how critical it is that it stays together!

The day before a big race,

one of the deck frames broke.

4100 hard working hours will create metal fatigue!

This is when the years of metalwork experience kicked in.

I finished an easy day job in a hard couple hours,

while race cars ran their practice laps.

Fat gussets and fish plates,

this will be stronger than new.

Since the grinder was out,

I sharpened a set of blades,

picking some donors from the junk pile.

Typically the outer blades get hammered by gravel and rocks,

so 7 out of 11 are good for a couple grinder edges.

There's a point where they all get pro sharpened,

but where's the fun in that?

The mower was all assembled 

just in time for the spectators to pile in.

The east berm grass died off in the summer!

The flatter areas kept a little green,

although it was more a mix of random weeds 

rather than blades of grass.

After racking up hours of mowing,

I still end up getting stuck.

This was my 8th time,

and first in a couple months.

The ground was so hard the mower just slid sideways like on ice,

then the skids hook into the fence.

Over the winter I'm going to round out the ends 

so they're not hooks.

Here's a huge change from San Diego.

It felt wrong hosing the machine down,

however the track has a well,

with an almost unlimited supply of water.

One of the perks of Oregon...

More soon!

TP

Weekend Update

What the...

Yes!

We're still here!!

Got some stories to tell...

More soon!

TP

PDX prequel - Martinez

Ok here's a PDX prequel,

how did I end up here!

Long time readers will remember 

our crappy neighbors in 2012-2014.

That era wasn't fun.

Work wasn't super steady,

and as renters it was a war of the wills,

and we were the serious underdogs.

Unbeknownst to most of you,

I've got an urban planning BA degree.

It's helped me in ways 

that have nothing to do with the major.

Specialties were procrastinating til deadlines,

and avoiding or circumventing bureaucracy.

I did learn how to type,

and ramble on writing reports about minutiae.

This blog is a UCSD skills byproduct!

That USP degree did allow me to apply for city/county government jobs,

However after getting reamed on Planner positions,

I had an interest in mechanic/tinker slots.

Would I be happy pushing papers anyway?

Maybe someday...

Apps are all online and easy to churn out modifications,

as they mostly use the same base website.

I bookmarked many CA and OR government websites,

any place I'd be interested in moving the family.

A few times I rose up through the ashes of hundreds of applicants,

and got to the onsite testing stage.

Even longer time readers may remember the Humboldt trip.

Some jobs I passed on,

either the area or the $$ wasn't liveable.

One place I did road trip to was up in Martinez,

near Vallejo working for Contra Costa county.

The little city was nestled in a dead end area,

far removed from the typical Bay Area hype.

It was like Ventura north.

I really liked the small town atmosphere.

Alas I didn't make the cut,

but it was a great excuse to visit friends.

Other things would come up.

Til next time!

TP

Brutal

How's this for a tail?

It's a real beaut.

My first squirrel with a sad demise.

I had to move this trash can,

and noticed the bag was all ripped up.

I didn't think much of it,

and went to re-lip the bag,

noticing what were possible saw marks,

as the can is a cut up 55 gallon plastic drum.

Nope not saw marks!

This big effin squirrel had gotten trapped,

and spent it's last hours gnawing and clawing 

trying to get out.

Most likely freezing to death overnight.

Definitely one of the more brutal deaths,

even compared to an instantaneous car smack.

Hopefully a squirrel lover won't read this

as the trash can lid design may be banned at parks...

TP