Saved by a Turkey Baster

As a self confessed professional frozen pizza chef I’ve never looked at kitchen utensils and appliances as merely food preparation items, in fact their dual-purpose utility continues to amaze me.

Take for example the warming up of 90-weight gear oil in the oven. I’ve found that this method increases the flow-a-bility of the oil tenfold, and of course that gets me right back in my bark-o-lounger where I wanted to be in the first place a whole lot faster. Just a little tip - Always remember to turn on the exhaust fan and make sure that your wife won’t be back for a couple of hours, cuz the aroma of hot 90-weight isn‘t listed as a fragrance in her Partylite Candle catalog for a reason.

Then there’s always shaping gaskets with the pizza cutter, mixing toluene and solvent-based concrete and masonry sealer in the measuring cup, and of course borrowing a toothbrush to clean small parts…oops, wrong room!

This morning I was checking vitals under the hood of the Super Duty and noticed that one of the cells in the passenger side Interstate battery was a bit dry. So I headed for the kitchen to borrow my wife’s turkey baster and grabbed a jug of distilled water from the laundry room.

Back at the truck everything was going as planned and I was feeling pretty good about myself for performing a little preventative maintenance before the actual side-of-the-road, parking lot, trailhead breakdown which seems to be the norm for me. Okay, let me clarify…I was feeling pretty good until the 2-ton hood of the Super Duty came crashing down, hitting me in the top of the head and smashing my hand! Almost immediately, between the stars spinning ‘round my head and the instantaneous vocabulary review, I also realized that the hood’s safety latch was working perfectly and my right hand was trapped between the hood and the top of the fender.

Funny how your body and mind can muster defined clarity and an instant means of escape when pain hits. Somehow, with my svelte 50-year old body exhibiting the flexibility of a teen gymnast I swung around with my back to the fender and unlatched the hood with my left hand, freeing my right hand from a very painful predicament.

As luck, fate or Devine intervention would have it the turkey baster didn’t break and seems to have actually lessened the blow to my hand since it was also wedged between the hood and the fender. Actually, as I sit here typing this with my left hand and a headache, I’m not sure if the turkey baster saved me or me it. Either way we’ll both be okay.

Unfortunately this is yet another one of those many, many, many stories that I’d love to tell my wife, but since it is her turkey baster and I like peace and quiet in our home it shall remain a secret between you and me. It’s not like she reads my blogs anyway!

The Captain <><

A mind is a simple thing to waste...

...and I almost lost mine!

A few months ago I began to slip into depression, something that I'd experienced many times before but never to this degree, especially with the high level of anxiety involved. I was diagnosed with clinical depression, but believe me when I say that giving it a name didn't help a bit. I knew that I was really sick and getting sicker, and I wasn't sure that I was going to recover from it.

To explain depression to you normal folks (whatever that means) out there is pretty hard, but I'll give it a shot anyway. Imagine yourself stuck in a black hole with only a glimpse of the world above. You can see it, but you have no interest in it and can't participate in it even if you wanted to because...well...because you just can't. You don't care about anything that you have always been passionate about and see no hope in the future, even when you know that you should. In my case I was also experiencing unexplainable intense body aches, headaches and pain like I'd never felt before, so throw that into your scenario too. Yep, you guessed it, depression sucks!

I actually had to focus all of my attention on accomplishing one simple daily task like doing a load of laundry, taking the kids to school, or talking to Grannygear on the phone. Working was out of the question, and checking emails, following up on phone calls and writing became impossible. Pretty pathetic to say the least.

They say that 'that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger', but I'm not quite feeling superhuman yet so we'll just wait and see. Since I'm able to write today for the first time in months I'd have to say that I'm on the road to recovery but I have been warned that it won't be a fast one. I feel like I've missed a few months and have a lot to make up for, but I've got to be careful to not take on too much too fast and trigger it all over again. That said, I covet your prayers for the future.

Lastly, I can't imagine going through this without my faith in God and the support of my wife Leslie, and good old Granny. I'm extremely thankful to have them all on my side.

Back from the (almost) dead,

The Captain <><

Gray Hairs and Wood Chippers

My 6-year old daughter is a constant crack-up to dear old dad. While the rest of my family was busy picking out thoughtful cards and clip-on bow ties this past Father’s Day, Kaylee thought long and hard about it and got Pops something he could really use…a Sharper Image Nose and Ear Hair Trimmer. Yeah, she’s something alright.

Well, after she noticed that dad hadn’t been trimming said errant hairs, she suggested that she be the first to give ‘em a whack. After all, she had purchased it with her own hard earned cash. And who was I to argue with that kind of logic?

First she gently inserted the trimmer in one furry ear, and then the next. I noticed right off that when the trimmer grabs hold of an especially thick gray one, the ensuing sound is remarkably similar to that of a wet tree limb being fed into a wood chipper. Throughout the ordeal the little gem strained a bit and lost more than a few rpm’s, but over all it seemed to survive the adventure relatively unscathed.

Moving on to the rainforest that is my nostrils, my curly little bundle of joy (my daughter, not the trimmer) squealed with glee at every follicle ripping change of pitch emitted by the little whirring wonder. Yep, she’s a chip off the old block, that’s for sure.

So here I sit at the keyboard, freshly trimmed, hearing clear as a bell, and breathing through fully manicured, unrestricted pipes. My thoughtful little daughter is happy, I'm happy because she's happy, and all is good with the world. I can hardly wait to see what she comes up with next.

Captain Hairless <><

Blog-ed

I was talking to Grannygear Troy the other day about something that we’ve both been noticing lately. The monthly editorials written by some of the BIG 4wd magazine editors have started to look a whole lot more like blogs than editorials.

This phenomenon seems a little weird at best, and of course, JP Magazine’s John Cappa has taken it to the extreme, as seems to be the norm. Sorry folks, but an editor’s frat-house chug-a-lug habits are not only a subject that I don’t care about when I’m looking for a bit of Jeep info, but (as a matter of personal observation) they’re pretty pathetic too. Very disappointing.

My take on it is to have fun, but stay professional in the context of the magazine (to whatever degree you can). Then, if you must, choose a more suitable venue to let your personal stupidity hang out for everyone to see. That’s what I use this blog for, and yes, I’ve been know to make some pretty stupid personal comments here too.

You might even think that this is one of them.

JB <><

Will Work 4 Trails

For the vast majority of us, getting interested and involved in land access issues is nowhere near the top of the list of fun things to do, and this is especially true for those fortunate enough to have hoards of trails at their disposal.

Well Bucko, if that sounds like you then it's high time that you take off the blinders and take a little advice from someone who has NO TRAILS!

You see, I've been living without reasonable trail access here in North Texas for long enough to know that IT SUCKS! The closest legal trail is over an hour away on private land and it costs a family of four over forty bucks a day to use. Oh yeah, I'll also mention that it's open only on weekends and/or sometimes at the whim of the owners. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that it's there and I applaud the owners of the land for taking the time to make it so, but it's a real shame that someone way-back-when didn't get involved and set aside a bit more public land for public use. I truly don't know how anyone with dirt in their blood can live here all of their lives without going into de-fib every time that a new four wheel rag hits the stands or the net. I know that I've had several such episodes myself, and I've only been here a little over two-years.

Okay, I'll admit that I was a bit spoiled living in SoCal. Choose pretty much any canyon road anywhere in the state and there will be at least access to somekind of dirt, whether it's a trail, fire road, double track, or single track. Admittedly I may be exagerating a bit, but that's sure how my memory serves it.

So from one who now knows just how bad it can be take a little advice. Click your way back to the C4x4 home page and take a look at the Land Access links. Find a cause in your area and get involved. You may not have the Rubicon, Holy Cross, or Predator in your backyard, but trust me, anything is better than nothing and nothing sucks more than...well...nothing.

Speaking of backyards, I'm ready to relocate mine right now. Yep, I wasn't kidding at all about the 'Work' thing in the title. So, do you know of a good paying job for a stunningly svelte, middle aged contractor / editor / booger welder anywhere in the U.S (preferably Arizona or Colorado)? If you do, drop me a line before the next round of dirt rags hits the mailbox...I don't know if my heart can take another round with the paddles.

JB <><

What Was I Thinking?

Before leaving our home in SoCal and moving to Texas I had accumulated a ton of stuff with lots of plans for another cool project. The project that I had stuck like crazy glue in my mind was a Willys Wagon, built specifically to haul the family and dogs, along with all of the must-haves that a home full of females…well… must have.

As luck would have it I had a friend with a Willys Wagon for sale in just about the condition that I wanted, but for some unexplainable reason the it had been partially disassembled for a detailed rebuild. Okay, I’ll admit that a purdy rig is all fine and dandy…but it’s just not for me. I like a rig with a little patina, kinda like a well-worn set of work boots, and before the owner ruined it by shooting spot primer over the tongue-dragging paint this Willys screamed PATINA.

Now, the first time a saw the Wagon it was a wonderful shade or possibly shades of green with just enough oh-so-sweet surface rust thrown in just to cause me to experience heart palpitations. It had a 289 Ford under the hood connected to a Dana 20 and NP435 with a Dana 30 up front and a 9-inch in the rear. A pretty good foundation for a sweet rig if I ever did see one. So what if you could see a little trail through the floorboards, the little Ford V8 ran like a single cylinder John Deere and the steering linkage had more oddball joints in it than a circus freak. Is that any reason to tear the old girl apart? Hardly. I mean shoot it didn’t need much. In fact after I laid down way too much cash for it I drove it on the trailer under it’s own power (or lack thereof.) Okay, truthfully it was in grannygear with the throttle flat on the floor. But it had so much potential that I could almost taste it.

As luck would have it about the same time I practically stole a Blazer with a warmed over 454 and Turbo 350 auto. It didn’t have any interior to speak of and the top had been cut off, but it ran really good. Good enough in fact to almost kill me when my 5-gallon bucket seat fell over while I was given it a little too much throttle. Hey, how was I to know that it would be so torquey?

Soon after I found a deal on a Dana 60 front end and an Eaton rear, a free full-width Dana 44, and then a couple of Dana 300 t/c’s fell into my lap too. Man, I was on a roll!

But…

Now I had all of this stuff and couldn’t decide whether to just get the Willys working, or the Blazer, or combine the two. Or maybe go full-width on the Cruiser? Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the Crew Cab 4x2 that was just begging me to throw a front axle and transfer case under it.

So I did what any red-blooded idiot would do…I did nothing. In fact, I did nothing for such a long time that I almost forgot about my original plan. And then we decided to move to another state. And then…I did the unthinkable.

I sold it all. I did mention the word ‘idiot’, right?

There’s an old saying that goes something like, “Of all the things I miss, I miss my mind most of all.” Well I miss the Willys Wagon the most, and I must have been out of my mind to sell it.

In other words, WHAT WAS I THINKING?

Captain Beadlock <><

Pinching Pennies

Does the price of gas have you feeling a bit down? Are you beginning to wonder if you can afford to go 4-wheeling at all?

Well fret not my fellow web-wheelers. As I write this blog, our crack staff is working on a solution to soothe your off-road addiction...on the xtreme end of cheap.

In the next issue of C4x4, we will introduce Project 'Penny Pincher', a super-flexy rock crawling buggy that everyone can afford to build and wheel!

See you June 1st!

The Captain <><