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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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Now this happened last year and it's taken me this long to write about. Not the pain, just my general lack of organizational skills.
One of those 40 below nights and I'm off driving my favorite car, a 1990 Sky Blue Volvo, 240 DL. You know what they look like, there's still a surprising number of them around. I had owned it for maybe 2 years, put on 130K+ km, sitting at a little above 300, 000 KM, this Volvo had a long life ahead of it. Or so I thought.
Driving, 40 below, and the car loses all power, a desperate rattling under the hood, the timing belt has gone. And it's a cold winters night, 40 below, and so I pull off at an exit (steering, no power), and manage to glide all the way into the Tim Hortons parking lot in Airdrie.
This is a miracle. Of all the places my car could have died, remote and distant roads, to die and glide into here, on this winteriest of nights, this is the favor of God bestowed upon his favorite chariot.
Not enough power to glide fully into a parking stall, my car is parallel to the drive through corridor, not ideal, but who's complaining? It's 40 below outside, I have too much to be grateful for...
I call the AMA. It's been a few years since I've used it, time to get my money's worth. And they assure me that they'll have it towed ("BERT AND JACKS!" I tell them, I'll tell you about Canadian Tire another time...), the weather, it's keeping them busy, they won't be there until after midnight.
Meanwhile I pop into Tim Horton's, apologize for my car, order a coffee, and explain to the clerk that my car is indisposed, it will be picked up and towed in the wee hours of the morning. The clerk nods and asks me if I'd like cream in my coffee. I explain again about the car, and the clerk smiles confusedly and points to the donuts. I ask to speak to the manager.
Patient, I'm nothing if not patient.
And I explain again that my car has died, inconveniently for them, in their parking lot, but it will be picked up by the AMA, wee hours, I won't be here, and I ask for a piece of paper so I can leave them my phone number. The manager, she doesn't speak English either. No one here does. Eventually she understands, or pretends to, and grabbing a piece of thermal fax paper pretends to write down my phone number. Except that I can see that it's thermal fax paper and the ink isn't sticking to it at all, but she smiles at me as if to say "look, I'm doing what you asked...." and I'm filled with despair, how many employees here, all Temporary Foreign Workers, and not a single one can speak English.
There's nothing more I can do, I return to Calgary by taxi and contemplate my next move.
The next day the AMA calls me to tell me they couldn't make it to the car on time, it's proximity to the drive through lane meant the RCMP called the only other towing company in town to have it removed. Not the AMA. You don't block a drive through donut window without paying the price, and although they could have driven around the Volvo in any number of ways the fact that was in the way of their midnight stampede for donuts, well, that was enough.
I go to get the car released, $200, another $200 to have it towed to Bert and Jacks, another hook up and towing fee for the unrequested tow in Airdrie ... I'm not so impressed. They let me know when it's dropped off. I'm in for over $500 so far, they look sympathetic, sure seems like a lot for an unsolicited tow because the AMA was late, but, hey, they've got the car now...them's the brakes...I wonder if they buy the cops their donuts or if it's a commissioned system...
Now to Bert and Jacks, but it's a Sunday, they're closed. And I make it by on Monday, and they're closed as well, and after a few days I realize that, after over 40 years in business, they've finally folded, only 2 days before, the fate of an honest mechanic, and the owner of the lot, the landlord, comes round and tells me to get my car off his property, somewhat kindly, but the pressure's on.
Taking apart the car, torque wrenches, the help of well intentioned roommates dropping screws on the ground, moving alternators, belts, eventually to discover that it's not the timing belt, it's the cam-shaft sprocket, shattered into a dozen pieces, and there's no place left to tow this, and so it's to the wreckers.
If I'd known a trustworthy mechanic I would have had it towed there, whatever the price, but a trustworthy and competent mechanic is like an honest politician or an ethical lawyer, I'd only ever known these ones, and they were now out of business, $500 into the funeral I empty the boot and say goodbye to what was, without a doubt, the best car I'd ever owned.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 3052
Now it was time for me to return to Nelson for the Advanced Placer Course, only the car had been developing some issues. Trifling issues, like the brakes making loud squalling noises when I drove and not responding - however slightly - when I applied pressure. This was a bad thing, I needed to change the brakes, only I didn't have the $200-$400 to pay somebody to do it.
And I postponed, parked the car, avoided, procrastinated, until finally there was no postponing any further, Wednesday, time to leave, so I watched the requisite youtube videos and purchased the brake pads ($30.00, the cheapest, remembering a Bukowski novel in which he's trying to sort the deluxe brakes from the generic brakes and he asks "What's the difference?" and he's told none, only price..), another $20 for a C-Clamp and 13 mm wrench, and I'm off.
I'm paranoid, this brake changing, if it doesn't solve my problems I'm hooped. It'll be the bus to Nelson for the course, and a nightmare getting to work. And I'm a bit worried about not having the car on blocks, but I jack it up and make it steady, double check, and get it done. I've seen cars come down on people, I don't want to be that idiot. The pads are completely worn out, only 3 remaining, all together they don't measure an inch in thickness, one of them is vanished entirely and only the metal spring has been stopping me.
The whole job takes me 45 minutes and costs, with tools, $50. And they're working fine. Perfectly. I drive around, high mountain roads, not a sound, not a whisper, I'd forgotten what it was like, how easy was that and who pays mechanics $200 or more to do this? Bloody hell.
When I finally get back from the course - brakes working perfectly, I notice I've developed a small antifreeze leak, which - when my next day off arises, I'll fix, in all certainty it's a rad hose, leaky or loose, but I notice a curious symmetry in the events that remind me of a time when I took my car in to be fixed for a leaky rad hose and ended up (or so I was told) getting my brakes done, by "professional mechanics" at Canadian Tire, and it cost me - I'm not joking - $3000.00.
Think fraud, laugh, I know, that is a separate post, I merely wished to observe that having spent almost $3000 at Canadian Tire my rad hose was not fixed, my brakes (no observable problem, but I took their word) apparently were, and so I spent $3000 on a job I didn't need done and probably wasn't done, when I could have fixed my brakes myself for $50 and left the rad hose as leaky as they did. But I'll fix my own rad hose this time, thank you very much, and when I'm in a slightly more venomous mood I'll tell you all - tell the world - about the time I was swindled, defrauded, and out - and - out robbed by the Hunterhorn Canadian Tire, and provide all the necessary receipts and evidence for you to make up your own minds. But that's a different post.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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I'd postponed work to take the Advanced Placer Mining course offered by the Chamber of Mines in Nelson. May 28 - May 31, Thursday, Friday evenings, Saturday & Sunday days on field trips.
The course was a little more unstructured than the previous introduction to prospecting, the first day was reviewing placer techniques and various places to look, the second was an introduction to hard rock prospecting using placer techniques. Most of the time was spent watching the gold based "reality" tv shows, Yukon Gold and the like, and analyzing what they were doing wrong. And, above and beyond general incompetence and a remarkable lack of charisma, they were doing plenty wrong.
Now I'd written up about 10 pages of notes to share, but then it occurred to me that really, this post isn't about sharing my (or the instructors) knowledge. As he tells you when your taking the course, you're getting 30 years of his hard-won experience. So if your interested I'll recommend the course, cheap at double the price. The class, 8 people, 6 I recognized from the Introduction to Prospecting, the other 2 had been waiting a couple of years to get into this course. Washington had returned, as had one of the girls (she lived in her VW van), none from Nelson, most from the area, average age perhaps 60 years.
The first days field trip was to the instructors claim near the border, turn off cell phones as we're now being charged roaming. And digging our holes we get down to virgin ground, take it to the river in buckets, pan it out. Nothing remarkable, long day, but checking with the others I find one of the students had a cm long thin nugget, and Washington had a small jar full of pennyweight nuggets. Not bad for a couple of hours work, and he's had his epiphany, he looks off into the distance, misty eyed, and tells us how in his entire prospecting career he's never gotten this much gold out in a day...
I'm jealous, not a single nugget in my pan, but I didn't have a classifier, and some of it is going to be down to dumb luck. Only some, the remainder will have to be adjusted on my end...But you couldn't wish this luck on a better person, and I'm relieved there were nuggets recovered, I was beginning to get a little skeptical...
It's easy to see how the fever sets in.
Day 2, hard rock techniques, high up on another claim, swarmed by small flies, not black flies, but bigger, and I'm justly skeptical of their intentions, it doesn't take long, welts and trickles of blood begin to run down my arms, neck, I'd taken a ride up with a classmate and left my insect repellent in the car, I'm now a savory treat for every little winged nightmare that haunts the north woods. More techniques, sampling, then the end of class, informal goodbyes, I'm a good 8 hours drive from Calgary.
The class, very worthwhile, interesting people and a lot of good information. Now another 2 months in hell to replenish my finances and then it'll be time again to be off...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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Covered in insect bites that are beginning to itch, it's once more into the Breach. A 2 month contract in hell, day one, the owner friendly, this is to be a temporary arrangement until the summer vacation, but if I know them they'll try to extend it...
The owner, he's a lot of opining to do, opinions on the new NDP government and how the conservatives could be so stupid (he blames Jim Prentice, an occasional customer.). Opinions on the TFW laws, which are going to make it impossible for him to stay in business, they're all being sent back, he's losing his sous-chef, returning to the Philippines, he can't find Canadians to work, he's brought in a journalist for lunch so he can stand and tell him how these laws will be closing down all the restaurants in the city...
I keep my opinions to myself. Read between the lines and his every argument for foreign workers is an argument against them, while I like them all they represent the vicious underbelly of exploitation: intolerable work conditions, long hours and low pay.
The nephew, when they talked me into it, he began to laugh, it's like giving you the monkeys paw, good luck getting rid of it, and while he's away to renew his temporary work permit I have a feeling he won't be trying to hard to come back, the boom days are over....
The days off have disappeared, they forgot to mention it, we're a server short, the three of us can man the restaurant, day and night, every open shift, until the vacation. G reassures me that we need the money, and then in the same breath mutters he wouldn't mind a day off so he can take out his girlfriend...No job deserves a day off more than this, but it's not going to happen...
And there are the customers, all the regulars comment on your return, surprise, some pleased, some dismayed, my pleasant attitude was wearing a little thin towards the end, my infinite patience now renewed for another 2 month contract, and then?
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2462
And the grim flogging off of excessive materialism, generally at a loss. So far it's just been Kijiji, I console myself with the fact that what doesn't sell there can be moved on eBay. I'm not really too concerned with market price, more with getting it out so I can get more in. And getting it out so I can buy some food and eat, I'm not due back in Hell for another 10 days, and things are getting pretty lean.
It amazes me what sells. Not so much what sells, I mean, I bought it so why wouldn't anyone else? But what sells vs what doesn't, the cameras, all of them, interest shown for every one, not one has sold. But both the radios - the first, a Crosley, cool, retro, but not working, then a week later the same buyer called to make an offer on the Motorola. The only interest, both sold on the first inquiry.
Vintage Motorola Clock Radio, sold for $10.