Bob's Favorite Sport; Moving Rocks, Part Two

Early November 2012; On Site at the Tennis Club --

In the continuing saga of the movement of rocks, we ultimately encounter disaster -- of a humorous sort! The victory of Physics over Engineering. Keep your toes and fingers out of the way!!

In this second installment of the "rocky" adventures of the inveterate and never-discouraged Z-Brothers, we find them moving the third biggest rock from the pile on the lower side lawn into an elevated position in this meter-high rockery. Please note the use of advanced technology here -- a five-sheave block and tackle! [What is this world coming to that these two would resort to such modern equipment when faced with the trivial task of raising a 6-700 pound rock a mere meter and half above the surrounding terrain?]

After using "normal" brute force and cleverness to move this rock from its long-time place on the lower side lawn, to a judicious position below its intended place atop some previously-placed large and intermediate rocks, the brothers decided to employ a recently re-strung set of block and tackle. This set, using five sheaves (pulleys), would provide a force on the rock end of roughly five times the pull on the rope at the other end of this gadget. A carefully-placed and Mechanically-engineered ramp of two-centimeter thick lumber would provide a bridge along which this rock would be moved uphill on rollers to be positioned by the Physics-ian brother. BSME brother, the ever-inventive Engineer of the ramp-bridge, would provide the grunt-power on the working end of the block and tackle rope.

Victory of Physics (gravity) over Engineering (design errors).

All went well as the rock moved smoothly up the ramp, past the judiciously-placed bridge abutment that had been previously placed by the thoughtful Engineer. Disaster, in the form of the victory of Physics over Engineering, struck -- exactly as subsequently calculated by said thoughtful Engineer -- as the rock came to the mid-span point between the bridge abutment and the final end of the ramp-bridge. Previously-thoughtful Engineer had neglected to continue his thoughtfulness and provide a support at this critical mid-span point. 

Subsequent steps were taken which rescued this rock from its "comfortable" place in front of the rockery, to its proper place on top. No record of these "after thoughts" and actions were made. But here the rock is, nicely capping a continuation of this beautiful rockery.

A Belated Update to the Misadventures of Grumpy

Beginning October 4th, 2012; In Brazil --

I departed Seattle 20 days ago. What has kept me from keeping my BLOG up-to-date in all this time? I will tell you --  but not show you -- in this sad tale today.

I arrived with Uncle Bob in Ribeirao Preto on the 5th, after an overnight flight from Chicago to Sao Paulo, then on another flight, to Ribeirao Preto. It was late in the day (four hours later, Brazil time!) and, after greeting Adelaide, we went straight to bed.

A couple days later, we took the Intercity bus down to Sao Carlos to check out the tennis club/school. While there, Uncle Bob and I decided to "escort" a couple 10-11 year-olds into the adjoining jungle. Deep into the jungle is a lively stream following a channel about 8 or ten feet wide and about 4 or 5 feet deep. And occasional log or twisted tree trunk affords one a reasonably easy way to cross to the other side. [Don't ask me why it always seems "necessary" to cross! It just is!]

Several years ago, on a similar "safari" with some teenage and sub-teenage girls from the tennis school, Grumpy had demonstrated the quick and proper way to cross a stream in the jungle: Grab a vine and swing across! At that time, Grumpy weighed 15 or 20 pounds more than he does today,  but had no problem negotiating the stream two or three times by the "vine transit".

This time, however, the vine that Grumpy chose had a kink in it that weakened its tensile strength! Grumpy tested the vine, confirming its secure grasp onto a tall tree 100 feet or so above the ground. The far bank of the stream was a good 15 feet away, as Grumpy leaped forward to propel himself across this chasm. As my body, with legs outstretched in front of me for the anticipated landing on the other side, approached the nadir of my swing (maximum stress now being applied to the vine), the vine broke -- at the kink -- and Grumpy plopped 6-8 feet down onto his rump, into the stream! The impact of my tailbone on the firm surface of the stream bottom was apparently sufficient to fracture my #1 lumbar vertebrae. But worse than that were the muscle spasms that occurred whenever the nerves that signal a fracture were triggered! To ease the spams and inflammation (for some time I thought it was only a sprained back), I started with Aspirin every 3-4 hours (two 325mg that I had brought along; later with 600mg Ibuprofen).

On the 9th (a day or two after this incident) we left to go fishing in the northern part of Mato Grasso state. This was a primary reason for this trip to Brazil, and I wasn't about to let a little pain [well, it was more than just "a little"!] get in the way. More on the fishing trip in another Post.

We returned from the fishing trip on the 16th; Grumpy was now taking either a 600mg Ibuprofen or a 500mg Aspirin each 3 to 4 hours to deaden the pain. On the 18th Uncle Bob wanted to go to Sao Carlos; I told him I would rather go see a Doctor about my back -- I was now suspecting something more serious than a back sprain.

Uncle Bob made an appointment for that very morning to get an Xray and diagnosis in Sao Carlos. The Xray [of which I have the film] showed what the Radiologist said was a "Fratura Antiga?" [that's Portuguese for "Antique Fracture, maybe"]. I was greatly encouraged by this diagnosis in that, since I could recall no time in my life previously when I had injured my back, I interpreted this as indication that I had a fracture which was in the process of healing! And so I have continued a regimen in which I refrain from any kind of actions or contortions that may damage the healing break.

Grumpy has determined to examine the vines more critically next time!

Near Death Experience

19 March; Somewhere (NOWHERE?) in Kansas --

Speaking of falls, Grumpy took a bad tumble when Hazel and he were visiting our Nephew (cousin of Grumpy's children) near Soldier KS. A bad tornado had hit his place a couple years ago -- just before Mother and I visited him, in fact. 

It folded his metal granary flat! and lifted the "lid" off and flattened that, too; I wanted a picture of the results with me in it for perspective. Anyway, a grain auger, used to lift the grain from a truck into the granary, had been blown down and was lying in the grass near where the granary had been. The drive shaft, a solid steel rod about 5/8" in diameter, was sticking up out of the grass, pointing in my direction and therefore difficult to see with the grass all around. I caught my left foot on it as I stepped to take another step. I was holding a cup of coffee in my left hand, which I didn't want to spill, so I extended my left arm out in front of me as I fell full-body length on my front side. My chest contacted the auger tube, crossing from just below my rib cage on the right side to between my left shoulder and neck -- across the long-healed incision performed when I had my double bypass 10 years ago.

I felt pain in my rib cage -- of course my wind was knocked out -- but as soon as I regained my breath and took stock that nothing seemed seriously damaged, I got up without any problem. Later I found out that my most serious injury was a sharp bruise to my left forearm, just below the elbow, where it apparently contacted a corner edge of the concrete pad on which the granary had stood.

I still (two weeks later) have no black and blue spots, but only a dull ache if someone hugs me too hard -- not that I mind that, thank you; I'll take all the hugs anybody wants to give me!!

But I should watch where I step more carefully from now on; old people have been known to break parts when they fall. I still hope to grow old some day.

Target Shooting

Wetter'n Washington; Ides of March --

Gosh, it's been almost two months and this BLOG hasn't revealed any new action; guess it's about time to "do it again", huh? In fact, Grumpy acknowledges that the main subject of this post actually took place about two months ago and apparently got lost in the throes of Income Tax time -- or at least that's my story, and I'm going to stick with it.

About two months ago Bopop and my two Grandsons, Blief and "Stretch", invited the Grumpy One to go target shooting with them. They assured me that they had found a safe location, deep in the woods away for noisy neighbors -- no, wait; we would be the noisy ones -- I should have said, "away from neighbors who might object to some noise".

Grumpy brought his single-shot 12 gauge shotgun, his .22 rifle that he got on his 12th birthday, his .30-'06 deer rifle and his .22 pistol. He also brought a .30-30 lever-action rifle and his Dad's old pump-action 16 gauge shotgun. Bopop brought along a Mauser-action rifle that had been re-barreled by his Grandpa for the .30-'06 cartridge. Grumpy was the only one of the four who had fired a rifle before.

Needless to say, Grumpy planned that he would "show these young whippersnappers a thing or two" about precision target shooting. The paper target were set up about 45 yards distant, with a dirt bank behind them to catch all the bullets after they had passed the target -- whether through the paper or any near miss -- and there were a few of the latter. But more about that later.

Bobop, aiming his .30-'06 Mauser

But first we each had to find their own "best" posture where we felt comfortable in making our most accurate shots. Bopop found this one, on the left, to suit him just fine and he fired off three shots. His rifle is the one with the German Mauser action mated to an Enfield .30-'06 barrel. Grumpy's Dad (Blief and "Stretch's" Great Grandfather) had made this modification sometime in the mid 1950's.

Blief, aiming to put us all to shame

Blief followed his Dad's example with this pose, on the right, also shooting the .30'06 Mauser. Of his three shots we initially could find only two, and a rash assumption was that one shot had missed the paper target completely. However, closer examination (see below) revealed the truth!

"Stretch", finally found this comfortable position

Now, it was "Stretch's" turn. He experimented with two other attempts at sighting the rifle over the make-do "bench" (plastic trash bin), before finally settling on this sitting position, which better suited his elongated chassis and from which he made a respectable shot group -- better than either his Grandpa or his Dad.

Grumpy, the old Pro, aiming the .30-'06 Enfield

Grumpy (right) seemed quite relaxed and confident as he settled into his shooting position, aiming his favorite hunting rifle, the 1917 model .30-'06 Enfield, which his Dad (the Grandson's Great Grandpa) had "sporterized" for Grumpy when he was a lad of 18 or 19 -- more than sixty years ago!

Alas, not only did Grumpy not make himself proud with his many more years of "experience" [hole upper left in the 7 circle; hole on center left on line between 8 and 9 circles; a lucky hole nearly centered above #10], but Bopop with no experience out-shot him with a tighter group [hole upper right just inside 9 circle; holes on lower right in 7 and 8 circles], and Blief did even better with two holes less than a bullet diameter apart and three shots within a 1.5 inch circle [double hole at bottom tip of #9 and hole on top-right in 10 circle]! All of this with open iron sights!!

"Stretch's" shots came later and are not recorded here, but they were second in accuracy only to Blief's. That could be explainable due to the less steady shooting position (sitting, rather than a bench rest) that he assumed. Needless to say, Grumpy had reason to be very proud of the target shooting acumen that seemed "natural" for his two Grandsons.