when getting stuck is the best part of your day

by underswansea

About every couple of years I have to walk out of the bush. Usually snow and shitty tires are involved. Today it was neither. But I still had to walk.

Work was the shits today. I have the least respected job in the shop. It is also the lowest paid job in the shop, which places me in a subservient position to the other workers. Most of the time I don’t give a shit, because I don’t have to be around them. I work on my own. When I do have to be around them I have five bosses. The skill they exhibit as supervisors varies as greatly as their own personalities.

My job today was to babysit a diesel compressor. For just about eight hours I watched to make sure the thing didn’t blow up. That was my job. Listen to it run. The first part of the day was cold. You don’t move around much watching a compressor. Some times I stood close to it trying to absorb some heat coming off it.

It is a bullshit job to remind you where you stand. It was a long day.

When I got off I had to get out in the bush where I can let the day slide off me. I didn’t have much time before I went to my other job at the print shop. But I had enough time to get behind Swansea.

The colours have turned. Yellow and reds flare up through the spruce and fir. Patches of snow still held under the trees. The dogs put their heads out the window trying to snuff it all up. Blue Grouse and Ruffed lined the roads but I didn’t stop. I was on a schedule.

I made it part way up the mountain and jumped out to walk the dogs and take some photos. I walked in a place that is familiar. I looked for birds and heard them in the trees. Saw the last of the asters, remarked at the everlast both dyeing and blooming from the snow.

When I walked back to the truck, Slinky barked. I always pay attention to what she has to say, especially in the bush. She was barking at the taillights of the truck. They were on. I left the truck lights on. I had not been gone long, but I knew right away the truck was not going to start.

Big Red just about turned over, but it is old like the rest of us. I tossed it in neutral and coasted out as far as I could; at least a couple kilometers. If I had a standard I would have been out of there. Twelve years earlier I opted for the bigger motor and it only came with the automatic transmission. No magic by popping the clutch.

I tossed my camera on my back and started walking.  The dogs were happy at first.

My joints are not what they used to be. After eight hours in the cold standing beside a roaring diesel motor my hip was stiffer than a three-day corpse.

After nine kilometers (I clocked it on the way back) I was able to get cell service and called Lisa to come and give me a jump. It is undeniable the bush is beautiful at this time of year.

I ended up getting to the print shop late. My hip has loosened up. It will probably feel like shit tomorrow.

The dogs are asleep on their blankets.The walk through the bush washed the smell of diesel from my back. I am hoping to work on my own tomorrow.

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