Posts Tagged ‘power trimmer’
Days Away
I’m leaving today for a few days of camping and cycling, which will serve well as a warmup to the week-long Tour of Minnesota ride coming in mid-June. This time of year, a few days away from growing grass can be an issue, so I took some extra steps yesterday to address places that don’t receive regular attention.
Cyndie asked me to clean up our trails, which meant I would be using the string trimmers.
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Between fuel refills for the power trimmer, we decided to park the water tank in the ATV trailer behind the rocking chairs on the lookout hill. Cyndie has planted grass seed on the bare spot in front of the rockers. To get the Grizzly ATV out, I needed to move the riding mower. As long as I had that out, I decided to do a quick mowing of the round pen. We like to keep that turf closely cropped, and the horses aren’t thorough enough with their grazing in there to stay ahead of it all.
Since I had the riding mower inside the pasture fence, I figured I may as well make one pass along the inside of all the fence lines to minimize the amount of trimming that still needs to happen beneath the wires. For some reason, mowing inside the fences is something I usually wait too long to do. It feels good to have done it before the grass got too tall for the mower to handle. It makes the trimming so much simpler, you’d think I would make this a higher priority.
With all these non-standard mowing steps accomplished, I’m feeling okay about sneaking away for a few days of biking. I expect my posts for the rest of the week will be more rudimentary since I plan to leave my laptop at home and will be using my cell phone for all my communication.
Hopefully, the battery pack I have will be up to the task of keeping my phone charged. I’ll be charged simply by living in the great outdoors and riding my bike for multiple days in a row.
Maybe I should think about packing my gear in the dwindling few hours left before my scheduled departure…
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What Odds
What are the odds of receiving a book as a gift from a friend and discovering it was written by someone you know? For me, it is 100%. Our friends, Pam and John found a book they thought I would appreciate, “Nutshells: Diversions in a Time of Pandemic” by Doug Wilhide. I do appreciate it. Doug was a regular participant in the annual June biking and camping week back when I started riding what is now the Tour of Minnesota.
Our joint participation overlapped for a lot of years. Doug shares my interest in several passions, including writing. There is also singing and, of course, riding bikes. I just saw Doug again last June at the social/reunion held in Waconia on the rest day of our 50th anniversary ride. That was a special treat.
What are the odds of finding a fancy-colored maple leaf on the driveway before the leaves on our trees show obvious signs of changing?
Pretty good, I’d say, especially after a big storm wind that could carry leaves great distances has recently blown.
There were 2” of rain in the gauge yesterday morning after two rounds of lightning, thunder, and heavy rain pounded us overnight.
There was also standing water on our trails in the woods and the tall grass that is overdue for mowing stayed wet all day since the dew point remained high.
What are the odds that the whole body itching that Asher is dealing with is from some environmental cause? He’s going to visit the vet later this morning to see if they can come up with a diagnosis. It’s been bothering him for days and it seems to be getting worse instead of better.
He seemed feverish yesterday which triggered our request to get him seen between previously scheduled appointments. Poor guy can’t get comfortable and frequently stops on walks to scratch.
Since the grass was too wet to mow yesterday, I resorted to using the power trimmer to clean up beneath the wires of the electric fence.
Looking back at the distance I covered is rewarding.
Looking ahead at the amount still to do is not as rewarding.
What are the odds I can get the rest of that distance done on one tank of gas? I’d say about 50/50 if I don’t get distracted and start cutting more than just the fence line. Sometimes tall weeds grab my attention or I follow a side rut that’s been dug to encourage water to flow to the main drainage ditch along our south border. Those other areas deserve to be trimmed, too, but it just means I don’t get as far down the fence on a tank of gas.
Like so many projects on our property, I think I benefit from not trying to finish the entire fence line all at once. The odds are better for my body if I mix a variety of activities in a day.
This morning I will be starting with a visit to Physical Therapy for my shoulder and aching leg to improve the odds I’ll get over the pesky pains I’ve been living with this month. We are down to 8 days until departing for Iceland to become tourists on that scenic island country.
What are the odds I’ll be able to hike pain-free after trying to sleep sitting upright on a plane for long hours? This would be a good time for me to dwell in [positive] possibilities.
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Reclaiming Fences
In addition to regaining the upper hand on our trails, I think I mentioned that I’ve worked some fence lines, too. Yesterday, after I got home from a successful morning of shopping, I strapped on the Stihl power trimmer and headed to the far side of the hay field to make the fence visible again.
I burned through two tanks of gas but probably haven’t reached the halfway point yet. It’s taking so long because we didn’t get after this earlier and now the grass is so tall and thick it takes twice as long to knock it all down.
The days to departure for my week of biking and tenting are dwindling faster than the amount of work I’d like to complete around the property can be achieved. I’m splitting my attention between tending to things outdoors and gathering my gear in the house to pack. Half attention to each goal tends to result in half-sized results for both.
It is what it is. In the end, time always wins. I’ll get done what I can and pack up and go when it is time to go.
As of last night, my weather app showed this forecast for Saturday through Thursday: an alternating percentage chance of storms or rain each day, 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%.
Oh, joy.
Like I’ve said, that’s why we call it adventure!
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Reclaiming Trails
Counting down the days until my next Tour of Minnesota adventure, I popped out for a 2-hour loop on local roads for a 25-mile bike ride yesterday morning. Picking a route with roads I’ve not ridden before, I found myself climbing a curvy road that rose skyward to such a degree I needed to walk my bike up a good portion of it. This had me wondering if I’d made a mistake in doing my Monday morning exercise routine before asking my legs to work so hard on a ride.
The highlight of this ride was discovering an old man seated on his walker on the side of the road a long way from any buildings. What caught my eye at first was a couple of fine-looking cats that seemed out of place in the middle of nowhere. As the road I was on ended at this crossroad, my mind was contemplating which direction I wanted to turn when I finally noticed Mr. Meyer facing to my left, looking oblivious to my arrival.
I offered a greeting and rolled up beside him to chat. The cats were his and followed him on his walks. He told me he was 93 and this was the spot where he turns around after resting for a spell. We had a wonderful visit until both of us felt a need to get moving again before stiffening up.
Limiting myself to just two hours of riding got me home in time to join Cyndie in tackling a few chores on the property. First, I pulled out the chainsaw and we removed recently tipped trees that were leaning precariously across two different trails. From there, I switched to the power trimmer to whack a trail from the jungle of overgrowth taking over while Cyndie used our ratcheted lopper to cut back encroaching trees and branches.
It is very rewarding to reclaim space from the relentless growth that overtakes our trails this time of year. It seems to get easier each time since what needs cutting is all new growth, not well-established thick-stemmed plants that foil the string trimmer.
I made my way through two tanks of gas in the trimmer, moving on to work along the back pasture fence line and around the footbridge over the drainage ditch before going as far as I could up one of the narrow internal trails.
We’ve barely covered a fraction of the trimming that needs to be done so this project will be ongoing for multiple days. We’d like to get all the fence lines cleared because the guy who cuts and bales our hay field is planning to come as soon as he gets all his own fields tended. It makes it easier for him to cut close if the fence is clearly visible.
That was plenty of exercise for one day. I may take advantage of the predicted rain due this morning to do a little shopping before departing for the Tour on Saturday. It’s time to pull out all my camping gear and take inventory. I haven’t used any of it since last year’s Tour. Hope I remember where I put everything.
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Mostly Rain
Amid a heavily broadcast series of warnings about the chances of severe weather, I dawdled indoors much of yesterday until time was dwindling in a break between bouts of precipitation. It felt like now or never to get anything productive accomplished outside.
I gassed up the power trimmer and went after as many easy targets as I could hit, with particular interest in two of the most needed places. I reached the strip of longest grass just beyond the culvert as the sky began to grow dark again. It wasn’t pretty, but as raindrops started falling, I finished what I had set out to do.
The area of that strip is now a sloppy mess of long, wet cuttings, but it is a cut sloppy mess. If I’d had time before more rain, I would have used a pitchfork to pick up the mass of wet chopped grass left behind.
Earlier in the day while it was raining, I spent a little time perusing old newspapers for ancestor names again. Focusing on the River Falls Journal in the latter half of the 1800s, I found a treasure in 1878 under “Local News” for Esdaile. It lists the names of “pupils who excelled in their respective classes in the first month of the winter half of the present term.”
My search term was, “Hays” so it was easy to spot my great-granduncles, George and Charles Hays. Those two are the younger brothers of my great-grandfather, John W. He would have been 17 years old at the time. Charles was 9 and George was 8.
What made this find such a treasure was the name of one other excellent student: Minnie Church.
Minnie is my great-grandmother. She was 10 years old that winter when the grades were published. I would imagine the younger three knew each other well, spending their school years together. Ten years later, in 1888, Minnie and John (seven years her senior) were married in Minneapolis.
I wonder how the younger brothers felt about John getting the girl in the end.
Discovering those records was a lot of fun for a mostly rainy day.
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Trimming Minutiae
There is no drama about our activities yesterday and little in the way of specific goals. The hours passed as the earth rotated and shadows moved while Cyndie and I toiled on a variety of rewarding tasks.
I made the dreaded trip to buy gas for all our small engines and the diesel tractor. Ouch. That’s a burden on the pocketbook.
One way I reframe the harsh rise of the cost of fuel is to remember the time we had been shopping for a while and Cyndie grabbed a 20 oz. bottle of Aquafina water at the checkout counter. It added the paltry amount of $1.68 to our over $500 bill at Lowe’s. It was a purchase of convenience, for sure.
That price for 20 ounces of water is equal to $10.75/gallon. Think about that.
With all gas cans full, I was able to resume using the power trimmer. I had completed all our fence lines over the weekend so the next crucial need was the labyrinth. It didn’t give in without a fight. The stones defining the pathway wreak havoc on the nylon line of the power trimmer.
One technique I attempt to employ to reduce the abrasion of the line against the rocks is reducing the speed of rotation. Maximum speed is not required to achieve an adequate cut. Still, the spinning will deplete line and require the bounce against the ground to advance more length. I can’t count how many times I would release more line and almost immediately the trimmer would catch an edge and torque right up to a rock and eat the new line I just bounced out. Aaarrrrgh.
Just when things are going smooth, the engine runs out of gas. At least I was wise enough to bring the can of gas along this time. I also had a spare spool of line with me, just in case. I needed to use both.
The challenge always seems to be coming out even in completing the intended cutting goal before running out of either line or fuel. When I finished the pathway of the labyrinth, I moved on to the firepit next to the labyrinth, as long as I still had both line and gas. After finishing that, I decided to hit the trail in the woods for as long as the trimmer would run.
It lasted a lot longer than I expected. I cleared a large section of the perimeter trail where the grass had gotten very tall. A bonus accomplishment I didn’t anticipate achieving.
After too many days in a row of trimming for hours, my throttle hand was letting me know it had had enough. That’s a good reason to stop using that tool for a while. Today my hands will be on the lawn tractor steering wheel.
We are in the month of never ending mowing, which is putting the job of never ending sawing and wood chipping on temporary hold.
Somewhere between those two, I keep intending to add never ending bike rides, but that keeps failing to happen.
Could someone slow down the earth’s rotation a little bit, please?
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That Close
I knew I might not finish trimming the grass along the fence line before the gas ran out but the closer I got, the more I hoped I might make it. My decision to leave the plastic gas can behind probably doomed my chances of not needing it.
There were one and a half lengths between posts left to cut out of the entire distance of our fencing when the motor sputtered out on me. Nothing to do but walk back to the shop garage and bring the gas can back with me.
We haven’t always been proactive about trimming the grass along the fence before it gets problematically tall, especially during the time when there were no horses on the property and we didn’t need the electricity activated. When the fence is electrified, contact with the growth around it puts a load on the circuit that pulls down the voltage.
The first time I used the power trimmer along the fence line, there were several areas where woodier stems of some plants would break the plastic cutting line. This time, around the entire length of our fences, I did not run into anything that the plastic line couldn’t cut. It was very rewarding to discover that we’ve been cutting it enough times now that there is no longer anything robust trying to grow under there.
It fits with what I was writing yesterday in that the job of keeping the growth off the fence is getting easier to manage over time. It would be just fine with me if eventually, nothing tried to grow beneath the fences and I didn’t need to cut it anymore.
I could intentionally neglect it. 🙂
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Dandelions Anyone?
It is peak dandelion season and we appear to have a bumper crop. It is also itchy rash season again from nettles and poison ivy. Every day the look of our landscape changes as plants and trees sprout leaves. Some of our varieties of grasses double in size every day. I have been using the power trimmer to clean up the edges of the hay shed and barn as well as areas of grass that were too wet to mow with the lawn tractor.
I am thrilled with how the transplanted maple tree is thriving at the center of the labyrinth.
With some precision trimming last year I have successfully encouraged a favored branch to become the leader and it is growing perfectly.
One day later, the dandelions appeared to be swallowing the labyrinth with their multiplying number beginning to cover some of the rocks defining the pathway. Yesterday afternoon I slowly walked the entire labyrinth with the power trimmer to restore order.
I think we are going to need bigger rocks.
The diameter of the labyrinth is so large there are several different micro-climates. The back half that is shaded in the afternoon is dramatically different from the front that receives sun all day long. Actually, the main change is in how much grass there is. The weeds are pretty consistent throughout.
There is a sumac tree that appears to really want company because new sprouts were turning up very frequently for about 5 rows of the back quadrant near the mother tree.
Maybe the sumac tree can make friends with all the dandelions instead.
There are more than enough available.
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Olympic Influence
The 2020 Olympic summer games are over but after having watched daily competitions for over two weeks, the residual influence is strong. Yesterday afternoon, I was cutting the grass beneath our fenceline using the power trimmer. Beneath ear-muff hearing protection that also has a metal mesh face shield, my world gets reduced to the ground immediately in front of me and little else.
While trimming away, there was a moment where I thought I might have heard an uncharacteristic sound. I took a quick glance over my shoulder to see if there was anyone in sight and was immediately reminded of Olympic marathoners doing the same turn of their heads as they tried to check the competition behind them.
In the split second of feeling a connection to the competing Olympic runners, I had a thought that power trimming could become one of the new sports they add in the future.
There could be categories separating light trimming around features in a front yard –similar to short distance races– and thick field grass trimming under a fence –similar to running a marathon.
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Performance can be timed or judged, or probably both.
Points taken off if you nick the fence post or leave uncut tufts around them. That would be like when divers make a splash as they enter the water.
Why stop with just power trimming? All the property management chores could become Olympic competitions. Kicking manure piles in the field can be rather sporting. Changing engine oil in a lawn tractor. Sharpening a chainsaw blade. Repairing a busted fence. Oh, pounding down frost-heaved fence posts would be a good one.
Might as well expand the focus to include a competition of commuting an hour to a day job. Fastest time without speeding more than 9MPH over posted speed limits takes the gold. Must be accident-free and can receive bonus points if no other drivers are made angry throughout the entire drive.
I’m sure televised broadcasts of the competitions would inspire kids to want to become farm chore professionals when they grow up.
I wish I could take this thought exercise of Olympic comparison all the way to the part where the hard work only lasts for two weeks and then there is a great big party with fireworks and drone-shaped patterns in the sky.
Lots of laughter and selfies, maybe a few hugs from strangers.
It’s a nice distraction from reality. My reality early yesterday morning involved a certain cat who apparently missed me over the weekend. Pequenita made a point of walking up my body to head-butt my face and knead my chest starting at 3:30 a.m. and repeated the exercise again at 4:30, 5:00, 5:30, & 6:00.
I foiled her annoying shenanigans this morning by getting out of bed at 4:30 to do my planking and stretching routine before work.
Come to think of it, maybe Pequenita just forgot that I now work from home on Mondays and she thought I needed to get up that early.
She probably thinks she’s in some cat Olympics, competing in the “Manage Your Human” event.
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Happy Grazing
Late yesterday, Cyndie captured some great shots of the horses out on the big field as the sun was low.
Mix was walking around with only one fly sock on.
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It was nice to see Mix out there with the others because she has been lingering back under the overhang for a few days whenever the others wandered out. It’s difficult to gauge her reasons so our concern rises a little bit and we watch for any indication it is health-related.
Maybe she just doesn’t want to venture very far in the heat of the day.
The other possibility might be the low value of grazing that is available during the increasingly troublesome drought.
I wondered if she just didn’t feel like walking that far, so I’m very happy to know there doesn’t appear to be any physical limitation keeping her from moving out there.
I ended the day doing some trimming along the back pasture fence line and by the time I stopped, I didn’t feel like walking any further than necessary.
We are prone to repeating an old phrase around our house with respect to how our feet feel at the end of a long day: “My dogs were barking.”
After getting covered in dog shit shrapnel from the power trimmer upon inadvertently hitting a poo Delilah had previously deposited, I had a strong interest in doing just enough walking to get myself into a shower as fast as possible.
Living a privileged country life isn’t always a glamorous endeavor.
At least our horses maintain a pretty respectable sense of decorum when they are out grazing on the big field by the road.
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Relative Something 