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Guernsey - Quit Helpin' Me, Boy! |
Wed, 18 Sep 2002 |
written by Teresa |
A couple of days ago we set off on the bikes to explore some of the park. In the hour and a half we were out, we didn't see a car or another person. The views from the reservoir road are beautiful with the eye stretching out across the water to the cliff walls and the sparse vegetation.
At one point we came to a cattle grid and it turned out to be another one of those moments of realisation since January. I can no longer walk across a cattle grid without holding onto something! The balance required is one of those strange things that are now beyond me. Sterling says it just goes to prove that I'm a cow and I can only hope that given his affection for the black and white animals, milk, cheese and all things dairy, that he meant it lovingly. I mooed a few times in response and hopped back on the bike that he had kindly brought across for me.
Later on, we approached the dam wall to find a truck blocking the single lane road across it. Two people were in the process of winching up dead trees that had drifted towards the enormous sluice gates. She was by the water's edge, having scrambled down the slope of the wall, and was wrapping thick chains around a trunk. He then started the winch and the giant slowly turned through ninety degrees until it lay perpendicular to the water, at which point it was gradually hauled to the top of the slope and the process started over with the next one. It was one of those strange sights that you don't see every day.
We have been carrying a back seat full of "projects" since leaving Glenwood and here at Guernsey, Sterling decided to start in on them. I came out of the camper the other afternoon to find him half way through installing the first mud flap on the truck. He was already filthy up to the elbows and cussing as he struggled to get the original set of hardware detached and the new one in place. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, I went around to the passenger side and started in on removing the old rivets. My various grunts and exclamations elicited enquiries from the other side of the truck as to my wellbeing and ability to complete the task. These I dismissed in short order. At last I had them all removed and was feeling rather pleased with myself so I continued with getting the new clips in place and aligned. This accomplished, I moved onto positioning the mud flap and starting to attach it. By this time I was beginning to feel quite the mechanic, when Sterling walked round the corner and said, "You've put that in front of the wheel - it should keep the tire clean". As both Jed Clampett and Sterling have been heard to remark, "Quit helpin' me, boy!"
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