Adventures in Woodgetting - Part 3
Chapter 4: Jeep Slider
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a few trips up, I was finally graduated to rig driver (read: jeep with a trailer) and I was super excited about that. Except when we were driving on mountain roads that had snow on them. I was last in line, with Ron right in front of me, and he was always careful to make sure I was still behind him. Well, then there was this turn to the right.
I turned my wheel, but the jeep did not respond. It kind of just kept going. And I kind of super started freaking out. Spouting obscenities, I pumped the brakes, which put the rig into a skid, and I went right off the road and started down the hill. I alternately prayed I'd stop before I died, and continued swearing. I mean, these are mountains. I'm lucky this wasn't a direct drop-off turn (which there are plenty of!) But the jeep just kept going, and I really thought I was going to die. After I was a full three-jeep lengths down the hill, a log finally stopped my jarring descent. But when I pressed on the gas to go backwards, nothing happened. My tires just spun. Oh, phenomenal. Nothing I tried was fruitful. Finally, I got out, slammed the door, kicked the jeep (very useful!), and went back up to the road.
Ron came back after I'd walked only a short ways. "What happened?"
Me: "I... I got stuck."
He knows that jeep way better than me, so he had it out in no time and we continued on our way with no further problems (I even drove the rig home full of wood, and on subsequent trips also).
Chapter 5: First-Class First-Aid
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Injury in the heat of woodgetting. It was only a matter of time, right?
Well, we found these two spruce that were super dead, and super huge, so of course, we got right on that one. They were felled, chopped, and we were loading. Well, did I mention that these trees were freaking gargantuan? Like I couldn't even get my hands to touch with my arms around them. Yeah, huge. So I'm loading pieces of wood I can barely lift. Well, we load Jerry's pickup, and then I'm filling Ron's trailer. Everything's going great, and there's only like two more pieces to put in to finish the thing off. So I'm lifting over the side of this thing. Well, on my second to last piece, I managed to get the pinky off my left hand caught between the metal lip on the trailer's side and the massive piece of wood I just chucked with all my might into this thing. OWWWW!
It sliced a chunk of skin (pretty deep) on the front of my pinky, almost 360 degrees around, ie, all the way off. It was a nasty, nasty cut. And it happened through my gloves! So I'm holding my hand out, watching the blood just run, not drip, run, from this thing like a river, and I go to Ron and Jerry and show them.
Me: "Uhh, I had an accident."
Ron: "Wow, that doesn't look so good."
Me: "Well, duh. We got any bandages?"
Ron: "I don't think so."
Jerry: "Me either."
Cursing these people's lack of preparation in my head, I asked for Ron's multi-tool, while pulling out my once-white-but-now-mostly-brown t-shirt, from under my sweatshirt. It already has a rip in it from I don't-remember-what, so I use that and widen it with the blade until I have a piece of cloth big enough to go around my finger, which immediately begins turning red.
Ignoring both of these unprepared men, I walk over to Jerry's truck where I know I saw electrical tape. I find it, and using my four good fingers and my right hand, manage to tape this piece of rag to my finger and stop the flow of blood a la tourniquet style.
That done, I put my glove back on and go back to loading the trailer. And then the other pickup truck. We work for another hour and a half like nothing even happened to me. (Oooh! I am SO tough! Take that mine effeminate accusers!)
The whole drive home (I'm a rig driver now, don't forget) I've got my ipod blasting and my finger is alternating between being so numb I think it's not there and throbbing so badly I think I'm dying. Love it.
When we get back to the lodge, I insist on helping unload all this wood we've just cut and hauled, but Doctor Ron forces me inside to see to my wound. I gingerly unwrap it, and put it under cold water to make sure there's no dirt or anything in it. WOW DID THAT HURT. I mean, just intense, biting pain, from WATER. YEOUCH!
Then I pour myself a bowl of Hydrogen Peroxide, and that hurts too, but at least it's not gushing blood anymore, right? I think maybe, probbly, I need stitches. Ron is taking forever to get in here to declare whether or not we are taking a trip to the hospital for some sewing so I sit down at the counter and lay my head down on my sleeve for a moment's respite.
Only God isn't done laughing at me just yet. I lay my head in the crook of my elbow on my sweatshirt, and right exactly in the very one spot I lay my head there happens to be tree sap. Which gets on my eye. And now I can't open it! I have a bleeding, almost severed finger here and now I can't see!!! WHOSE IDEA OF FUNNY IS THIS? So I'm trying to wipe it off with a rag and water, while not spilling my hydrogen peroxide and getting blood everywhere else... *uber le sigh* I mean this is like a scene you couldn't get on America's Funniest Home Videos if you tried. It's just that awesomely hilarious (except the part where I'm not laughing cuz this is happening to me).
Finally, I get the sap off to where I can open my eye again, Ron comes and he says he doesn't think I need stitches (I think he was lying). I wrap it in a band-aid, and then after the first day refuse all counsel from him to leave it wrapped and let it get as much air as it can. After three tedious days, it heals enough to where I don't worry about it anymore, and after like a week, it's back to normal.
A dirty t-shirt and electric tape people. That's just classic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a few trips up, I was finally graduated to rig driver (read: jeep with a trailer) and I was super excited about that. Except when we were driving on mountain roads that had snow on them. I was last in line, with Ron right in front of me, and he was always careful to make sure I was still behind him. Well, then there was this turn to the right.
I turned my wheel, but the jeep did not respond. It kind of just kept going. And I kind of super started freaking out. Spouting obscenities, I pumped the brakes, which put the rig into a skid, and I went right off the road and started down the hill. I alternately prayed I'd stop before I died, and continued swearing. I mean, these are mountains. I'm lucky this wasn't a direct drop-off turn (which there are plenty of!) But the jeep just kept going, and I really thought I was going to die. After I was a full three-jeep lengths down the hill, a log finally stopped my jarring descent. But when I pressed on the gas to go backwards, nothing happened. My tires just spun. Oh, phenomenal. Nothing I tried was fruitful. Finally, I got out, slammed the door, kicked the jeep (very useful!), and went back up to the road.
Ron came back after I'd walked only a short ways. "What happened?"
Me: "I... I got stuck."
He knows that jeep way better than me, so he had it out in no time and we continued on our way with no further problems (I even drove the rig home full of wood, and on subsequent trips also).
Chapter 5: First-Class First-Aid
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Injury in the heat of woodgetting. It was only a matter of time, right?
Well, we found these two spruce that were super dead, and super huge, so of course, we got right on that one. They were felled, chopped, and we were loading. Well, did I mention that these trees were freaking gargantuan? Like I couldn't even get my hands to touch with my arms around them. Yeah, huge. So I'm loading pieces of wood I can barely lift. Well, we load Jerry's pickup, and then I'm filling Ron's trailer. Everything's going great, and there's only like two more pieces to put in to finish the thing off. So I'm lifting over the side of this thing. Well, on my second to last piece, I managed to get the pinky off my left hand caught between the metal lip on the trailer's side and the massive piece of wood I just chucked with all my might into this thing. OWWWW!
It sliced a chunk of skin (pretty deep) on the front of my pinky, almost 360 degrees around, ie, all the way off. It was a nasty, nasty cut. And it happened through my gloves! So I'm holding my hand out, watching the blood just run, not drip, run, from this thing like a river, and I go to Ron and Jerry and show them.
Me: "Uhh, I had an accident."
Ron: "Wow, that doesn't look so good."
Me: "Well, duh. We got any bandages?"
Ron: "I don't think so."
Jerry: "Me either."
Cursing these people's lack of preparation in my head, I asked for Ron's multi-tool, while pulling out my once-white-but-now-mostly-brown t-shirt, from under my sweatshirt. It already has a rip in it from I don't-remember-what, so I use that and widen it with the blade until I have a piece of cloth big enough to go around my finger, which immediately begins turning red.
Ignoring both of these unprepared men, I walk over to Jerry's truck where I know I saw electrical tape. I find it, and using my four good fingers and my right hand, manage to tape this piece of rag to my finger and stop the flow of blood a la tourniquet style.
That done, I put my glove back on and go back to loading the trailer. And then the other pickup truck. We work for another hour and a half like nothing even happened to me. (Oooh! I am SO tough! Take that mine effeminate accusers!)
The whole drive home (I'm a rig driver now, don't forget) I've got my ipod blasting and my finger is alternating between being so numb I think it's not there and throbbing so badly I think I'm dying. Love it.
When we get back to the lodge, I insist on helping unload all this wood we've just cut and hauled, but Doctor Ron forces me inside to see to my wound. I gingerly unwrap it, and put it under cold water to make sure there's no dirt or anything in it. WOW DID THAT HURT. I mean, just intense, biting pain, from WATER. YEOUCH!
Then I pour myself a bowl of Hydrogen Peroxide, and that hurts too, but at least it's not gushing blood anymore, right? I think maybe, probbly, I need stitches. Ron is taking forever to get in here to declare whether or not we are taking a trip to the hospital for some sewing so I sit down at the counter and lay my head down on my sleeve for a moment's respite.
Only God isn't done laughing at me just yet. I lay my head in the crook of my elbow on my sweatshirt, and right exactly in the very one spot I lay my head there happens to be tree sap. Which gets on my eye. And now I can't open it! I have a bleeding, almost severed finger here and now I can't see!!! WHOSE IDEA OF FUNNY IS THIS? So I'm trying to wipe it off with a rag and water, while not spilling my hydrogen peroxide and getting blood everywhere else... *uber le sigh* I mean this is like a scene you couldn't get on America's Funniest Home Videos if you tried. It's just that awesomely hilarious (except the part where I'm not laughing cuz this is happening to me).
Finally, I get the sap off to where I can open my eye again, Ron comes and he says he doesn't think I need stitches (I think he was lying). I wrap it in a band-aid, and then after the first day refuse all counsel from him to leave it wrapped and let it get as much air as it can. After three tedious days, it heals enough to where I don't worry about it anymore, and after like a week, it's back to normal.
A dirty t-shirt and electric tape people. That's just classic.
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