Our RV Adventures

Well, this afternoon they finished massaging our dirt wall, the one I was hoping would help keep the north winds off us this November.  Before it was high enough that we could only see the very top of the red fluid trailers.

Plus it was also high enough to block the bright light from one of the big floodlight towers, but that’s no more also. Ah, well, it’s the life of a gate guard.

Probably 95% of the people who come through the gate are really nice, really friendly. But there’s always a few that are just grouchy. For them, inside every dark cloud, there’s just another, darker cloud.

And what they’re usually mad about is that they have to sign in at two gates to get here instead of just one. And the reason is that there are two separate landowners, two separate oil leases, and two separate companies along this road.

So they have to login at the first gate up the road, come another 1/2 mile or so, and then log in here. Normally, by the time they stop at the gate, I’ve already got their tag number (except those people from OK or LA who don’t have front tags), and then all I need is their first and last name, the company they work for, and what site they’re going to. In addition, I will also note how many other people are in the vehicle with a +1, +3, etc.

This usually takes about 15 – 20 seconds, but the grouches turn the whole process into a minute or two, because they won’t shut up long enough to give me the info I need. So I just stand there and stare at them until they finally wind down, and then I get my info and send them on their way.

Now, in more and more cases, I recognize their tag number and know I have their info in my computer database, (except for those OK and LA folks) and then all I need to know is what site they’re going to. That might take 5 seconds, unless they stop to chat.

At this point everyone who comes through our gate goes into the database. Right now I have 489 vehicles and 142 companies listed which makes it pretty easy to get people through the gate quickly, which it seems they appreciate.

Well, except for the grouches.

With them I take it really, really slow, and take extra special care that I’ve logged them in absolutely perfectly. Got to dot every ‘i’ and cross every ‘t’ with them.

The other thing I’ve noticed about gate traffic is that they gang up on you. I can set here for 30 minutes and see nobody, and then all of a sudden I’ve got 6 vehicles coming in and three trying to leave, and a traffic jam right here at the gate.

The only thing I can figure is that there’s a big staging area out on the highway somewhere, where everyone gathers, and when they’ve got a big bunch of vehicles lined up, someone waves the green flag and off they go.

That’s the only thing that makes sense.

I got really excited about 4pm when our first catering truck showed up. Rupp’s BBQ, with a big BBQ grill trailer behind. I wasn’t nearly as excited when they left at 7pm with nary a word, or a meal.

Oh, well, this is what we had for dinner anyway. A big plate of Rudy’s BBQ and all the BBQ accessories.

Almost certainly better than Rupp’s. Not like we’ll ever know, apparently. In fact, I Googled Rupp’s BBQ and found absolutely no info for them in this area. Just places like Wisconsin and Michigan. Doubt they drove that far.

Brandi sent over a photo of Landon at his latest T-Ball game.

Looks like he’s really getting into it.

Jan and I are still trying to line up a relief guard to give us a day off. We’ve talked to several people who might do it, but no one’s given us a date yet.

Hopefully soon.

Last up, sometimes Mister comes out with me when I come on shift at 11pm. Then after he checks things out, just curls up and goes to sleep.

Must be nice. But somebody has to work to buy his Meow Mix

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Thought for the Day:

If at first you don’t succeed, put it out for beta test.

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Scotty, our Gate Guard Services support tech, showed up today with water, diesel, and . . . the dreaded memo. The one that ‘officially’ notifies us of the new uniform of the day, i.e. hot, ugly, uncomfortable blue shirt, and boring, dark blue pants.

We had to tell them how many and what size shirts we want , and then sign it acknowledging we’d seen the memo. Bummer.

But supposedly there may be some sort of mini-revolt going on about this at Corporate with a lot of gate guards complaining. So we’ll see what happens.

Last night as one of the rig hands came back in after his week off, we were talking about his rig, and fracking. He works on the rig about 1/2 mile down the road from us, and I was wondering about when they were going to skid it to the 2nd hole.

He said they were supposed to do it a few days ago while he was off. I said I didn’t think that they’d moved it, since no big cranes had come in. He then told me proudly that his rig didn’t need cranes. It walked to the next hole all by itself.

Wow! I knew there were rigs that could do this, but I thought they were pretty new and not in much use yet. So it looks like I was mistaken.

I did find this video of another rig showing how it actually walks. It can go forward and backwards, sidestep, and turn in place. And it does this carrying a full rack of drill pipe and weighing 2.5 million pounds. That’s 1250 tons.

WOW again!

He also confirmed what I’d been told about them not wanting to frack too close to active drill sites, so between his rig and ours, that may delay fracking here. Hopefully, maybe, until we’re gone for the year.

Later this afternoon a big excavator showed up and started tearing down our windbreak.

I was looking forward to having that high wall of dirt to help shield us some from the north winds we’ll start getting in November. Cold north winds.

All I can say is that this guy must have a really good union, because he’d work for about 10 minutes and then take a 10 minute break, leaning back in the cab, and putting his feet up, as you can see here.

Of course I could be kind and say his hydraulic pump was overheating and he had to stop and let it cool off.

I could say that, but it’s not really in my nature.

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Thought for the Day:

Ancestry.com is like Facebook for dead people. (thanks, Stahlie)

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