Reminiscing

It's amazing how a song can bring back a flood of memories. The music can take you back to another time when you heard it opening up memories and experiences that may have been nearly forgotten. Sitting on the patio at the Holiday Inn in Andover, Kansas, with my iPod brought me back to my first year of college. 

The patio overlooks a man-made lake filled with ducks and turtles and surrounded by a perfectly green lawn. The mass of the hotel created a swath of shade that provided some relief from the searing heat of the late June sun. The warm, golden light of late afternoon illuminated the trees and buildings nearby as a low hum of constant highway traffic played to the north. On the iPod Dave Brubeck's Strange Meadowlark came across on the shuffle, filling my ears with the full sounds of his piano and the sweet melodies improvised by Paul Desmond. It all combined to bring me back to the fall of 2002, my first year in college.

I was listening to quite a bit of Brubeck at that time, his "cool" sound perhaps created an escape from the strange new world of college I had just entered in to. Numerous afternoons that fall were spent driving east of Moorhead to photograph trains and listen to music on the way. The warm breeze, the setting sun, Strange Meadowlark, they all came together on several evenings waiting in my car for a train to appear. And now I am here in Andover, a similar experience playing out in front of me (but with no train, just like so many afternoons in Minnesota). 

I couldn't help but also think about the people that have passed through my life between then and now, bookended by the breeze and the sun and the song. So many people that have simply disappeared. Surely their lives have gone on just as mine has, but how would I know? Just because I no longer know them do they cease to exist.

My first roommate at college, I can't even think of his name right now, I have to wonder where he ever went? It's not like we had much reason to ever stay in touch, other than a little bit of music we had nothing in common, but the MSUM housing staff deemed we would be a good match. Almost, for I moved into a single room after the first semester. I do remember one time that was pretty interesting, splitting some beers in the room and watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. This was one experience I would never have had back home!

I have to wonder about Nate and some of the other guys whose names I have forgotten. What happened to them? They were the first to invite me out to a real college party and persuaded me to play Century Club. I have to wonder how far away from these carefree college days they are now, if they have matured at all or are still trying live the college man's dream.

Liz, I sort of know what happened to her, I have a vague idea of where she is at these days. She was the first girl I became interested in college and she would also be the first vestige of so-called drama introduced into my life. A tumultuous couple of years would follow me as I followed her, trying to figure her out. Three years later she had changed so much from when I first knew her and finally lost most contact after feeling completely betrayed and lied to with the revealing of a secret that should never have been secret. 

What about the circle of girls I hung out with for two of the most wonderful months in my first year? Amber, whom I had a class with, one day decided to sit with me at lunch and soon I found i was lunching with her and a group of ladies from her same floor in Nelson nearly several days a week. Many other nights were spent hanging out in Nelson, playing video games, watching Rocky Horror Picture Show, talking, even handing out candy to kids on Halloween. Alas with the new semester came new schedules and we all drifted apart just as quickly as we all came together.

Seven years later here I am in Andover, listening to the same music I was in 2002. I have changed so much since then and surely the people I no longer know have too. Time and distance have separated us, but time and distance can't erase all the memories, and if it takes Dave Brubeck to bring them back, then that's all right with me.

Santa Fe All The Way

Ship and travel Santa Fe - all the way. The Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe is perhaps the most storied railroad of the west. Famous passenger trains, amazing ad campaigns, and even songs have made a long lasting legacy for this railroad, better known simply as the Santa Fe. Interestingly enough, Santa Fe, New Mexico, was never even on the mainline of the railroad but simply served by a branch line. Nonetheless, it was always the Santa Fe.

The Santa Fe had numerous lines criss-crossing south central Kansas creating a web of mainline, branchline, and secondary lines. We have been working on the Emporia, Arkansas City, and Douglass subs of the BNSF, successor to the Santa Fe. To most people they are just railroad tracks, but in my view it's a historic trip to set on and take a ride down the Santa Fe, even if it is work.

The Emporia sub is part of the famous Transcontinental mainline and saw the vast majority of Santa Fe trains. The fast freights took a route straight southwest out of Kansas City while the storied passenger trains took the washboard profile line to Topeka. Both joined each other in Emporia, Kansas, and continued southwest towards California and the coast. Today the freight traffic is down and there are no more passenger trains.

But step back in time, back to the 1950s, when yellow and blue covered wagons pulled millions of tons of freight and red and silver engines headed up the Super Chief, traveling at high speed with well-to-do people and celebrities in the passenger cars behind them. These were the things that songs and stories were written about and it's a far cry from a dirty spray truck!

Today the freight still moves at high speed across the Kansas prairie through here. Most of the power is orange and green, but every so often you will still see one that says Santa Fe, back on its home territory. Old depots with the Santa Fe logo inlaid in the brick still stand in many towns, watching the passage of time and trains. Think of the generations of railroaders that have passed before them, it's almost chilling.

The Santa Fe may no longer officially exist, but in the memories, in the buildings, and in the occasional locomotive it still exists. It exists in the lines that were built well over 100 years ago that are still a vital part of the nation's rail infrastructure. It exists in the old boxcar in Winfield, still bearing the famous slogan - Ship and Travel Santa Fe All the Way!

The Next Step

I have been asked by Right-A-Way to become a crew leader since my current crew leader is leaving for a new job. So what all entails being a crew leader? A lot. First of all you have to manage the two or three other guys on the crew. That means putting one in the passenger seat of the hi-rail spray truck and another in the water and chemical chase truck. It also means putting them into a ground truck to go spray all the off track stuff. Plus there is the task of getting them a hotel room, handling their timesheets, log books, and receipts, and making sure they actually do their job.

Getting the actual job done is also very much left up to the crew leader; all they do is send a sheet with the roadmaster's phone number, the territory covered, chemical used, and a phone number for the chemical distributer. It's up to the crew leader to arrange work days with the roadmaster, know the territory, how to mix and apply the chemical, and arranging for a chemical delivery.

Then there's the paperwork. Every day you send the office a fax and fill out two sheets for every truck that sprayed that day. In addition all chemical used must be accounted for and acreage spread to the correct counties. Correct mileposts and line segments are a must.

There's also the phone calls, constant phone calls. The office, the railroad, other crew leaders, other crew members, all calling for this and that, especially when you are busy. Usually being busy means trying to go around objects with the boom on the hi-rail truck.

The hi-rail truck is its own set of problems. There's a lot that could go wrong and it's not always and easy fix. Each side has a boom that the person on that side operates. The boom can move like an arm and go around, behind, and over trackside obstacles. Running that is a challenge, but as a crew leader you not only run your side, but are also driving and have to watch what the guy on the other side is doing. It takes a lot of coordination! A lot! And a lot of concentration as well, which is why the phone is always ringing while you're trying not to run into stuff.

And there are always the social aspects of being a crew leader. Trying to keep the other two guys (sharing one room) from not killing each other can be tough sometimes. There's always railroaders you have to deal with that don't understand your job or just don't want you there. Don't forget the irate people with property along the tracks that think you are killing their gardens and lawns.

So it will be an interesting quest. Hopefully I don't lose too much hair, either from it falling out or being pulled out. The upside is I get my own room, but that's not really a huge perk. It will be interesting to say the least.

Journey to the Wedding of Aquaman Part III

Sunday morning. Clouds had moved in but the humidity remained. By the evening I would be gone, back on the road to the work I despise. Until then, though, I had a lot to take care of. Laundry, cleaning, some organization, and the big one, mowing my lawn. The first three were easy compared to the last. The clouds had moved out and brought in oppressive heat. The air was so heavy with humidity it was hard to breath. It was not the ideal conditions to be pushing a lawnmower in, but it had to be done.

I had planned to get on the road by noon, but then it was pushed back to one, than one-thirty. Finally at two p.m. I was able to be packed up and hit the road. I took one last look at my yellow cottage and then headed up Gladys Drive.

The drive back became a bit depressing. I was leaving behind my friends, my house, and I had no idea when I would be back, and when I was, for how long. Keri Noble's "Piece of My Heart" didn't help the mood. Indeed a cold wind was blowing in. It blew me far away, back to spraying. I was back on the job again today, the Journey behind me. Such is life.

Journey to the Wedding of Aquaman Part II

Saturday morning. Today was the big day for Matt and Jen, and it was a beautiful day. The torrential rain had given way to full sunshine, blue skies, and wonderful green foliage of southern Wisconsin. Before the big event I had business of my own to attend to.

First on the list was a drive over to my bank in Stoughton. The last time I had made the drive the landscape was still a drab brown with only a few shoots of green piercing through monotony. On this morning everything was a brilliant green. Corn fields, meadows, and streams were the variety to the rolling landscape. It was a bit depressing to know I was missing all of this working, not able to enjoy the Wisconsin summer in all its wonder.

The remainder of the morning was spent on trivial items, such as spraying the weeds in my sidewalk, cleaning, and wrapping the wedding present. I dug through my closet and found my khakis and dress sweater. They hadn't been worn since my senior piano recital. Then it was 12:30 p.m., time to head out for German Valley.

German Valley is a small town southeast of Freeport. The Chicago Great Western once dissected the town, but today only a trace of the railroad remains. White homes with immaculate lawns line the streets and a few people were out doing yard work and giving me a wave despite the fact they probably didn't recognize the car. That's just the way it is in small towns.

The church is seated on a small rise on the south edge of town. Beyond it is nothing but corn and farms. Upon pulling into the parking lot the first person I saw was Don. It was great to see a familiar face. Inside the church were more familiar faces; Ryan, Sayre, Andy, Adam, Ian, Lance, Chris, Kathi, Nick, and Tony, all people I hadn't seen in well over a month and all talking about our favorite subject: trains. It was great to be home.

The wedding passed in a blink. Before anyone even realized it Mr. and Mrs. Aquaman stood before the church. Outside the front entrance was Tony's new red Challenger and behind it was Paul's Challenger of a 1970's vintage. After Matt and Jen were inside Tony's Challenger and Paul was in his, both burned out of the church parking lot, leaving us all to bake in the afternoon sun. Of course, there was always more train talk and Adam and myself discussed the goings on at CP Rail.

I was about to leave to meet up with a group at Culver's in Freeport when Matt sent me a text and said I needed to stick around for the "beer photo." This was something I hadn't heard of and leave it up to Aquaman to come up with it. A bunch of us met up at his grandpa's farm southeast of town and cans of Leinenkugel's Original were passed out. A photo of us toasting with cans of Leine's was a perfect addition to the day.

The reception was to be held at the Masonic Lodge in Freeport. I met up with a big part of the group at Culver's. None of us really had a good idea as to how to actually get to the reception. I was under the impression Kathi knew how to get there, so I followed her out with Ryan following me. After a scenic tour of Freeport I came to the conclusion Kathi probably didn't know where the hall was, so I set off on my own, Ryan still following, and luckily stumbled upon the massive building.

Inside was a large room painted in a light green color. With paint like that it should have looked ugly, but for whatever reason it seemed appropriate, so vintage, it perfectly matched the rest of the building. On one side was a stage where the DJ was set up, on the other a full bar, and round tables filled the divide. Along the longest wall was the head table, slightly elevated from the guest tables. I found my way to a place with Andy and his fiancee, Adam, Nick, and Nick's parents. 

The reception was great. It was some of the most fun I've had in a long time. Munger Mark made for some great entertainment. Munger is hard to describe. Crazy may seem too extreme, exuberant not extreme enough. A fondness for beer fuels the party in this man and he was consuming plenty of fuel! At one point he came by our table with three glasses and explained they were all for a sick man at his table that was choking on an artichoke. Yes Munger, that was a believable story!

As the night unwound so did the guests. It seems like everyone was eventually out on the dance floor. All the standards were played, "The Twist," "Cha-Cha Slide," "Chicken Dance," along with a little Metallica and some polka music (this was a German wedding after all!). Munger seemed to be particularly enjoying dancing, often grabbing people and dragging them out to the floor. 

The night was capped with "Bohemian Rhapsody." Those of us that remained joined in a circle on the floor to sing along. It was by far some of the most fun I've had in a long long time. But that was it, it was time to say goodbye to Matt and Jen, Ryan, Sayre, Chris, Don, and everyone else I hadn't seen in what seemed an eternity. Who knows when I will see them again.

Journey to the Wedding of Aquaman Part I

June 20, German Valley, Illinois, at 2:30 p.m. That's where I needed to be, that was when and where Matt and Jen would be getting married. Where I was, though, was Andover, Kansas, doing the tedious and tiring work of destroying noxious and troublesome weeds on the old Santa Fe mainline. I had been debating whether or not I would be able to squeeze out some time and find a ride to the wedding, but after some spraying on the Emporia Subdivision, I knew I HAD to attend the wedding, not only for being at one of the biggest events in my good friend's life, but because if I didn't get away from spraying I may go insane.

Luckily for me our current spray crew has four people on it and it only takes three people to actually run a job, so getting away for a few days would not be a problem. Avis would provide me with a ride, a Chevy Cobalt. It's by no means any kind of glamorous ride, but I really grew to like it over the four days I drove it. I was happy it all worked out, and I know Matt was elated I would make the wedding.

I was all set to leave Friday morning, and let me tell you, I was excited to get out of here, away from the stress and the tediousness of spraying weeds. In fact I was so excited that I could barely sleep on Thursday night despite just how tired I was. I must have got up three times, all hoping it was 6 a.m., only to find it was 11 p.m., 2 a.m., and 4 a.m. By the time 6 did come around I was now so tired I didn't want to get up, but just the thought that at the end of the day I would be back at my house in Edgerton, Wisconsin, got me out of bed and out the doors of the Holiday Inn by half after. 

I opted to stay on the mostly two lane Highway 54 to soak in the local atmosphere across Kansas and Missouri and into Illinois. It was great to watch the grey path unroll over the hills in front of me and through the towns in front of me, just waking up for the day. Before I knew it the yellows and greens and beautiful curves of the Flint Hills were zooming by my window at 70 mph, herds of cattle occasionally looking up from their grazing to watch the only car for miles pass by.

By mid-morning I had hit Missouri, a state in which I had barely ever set foot in. Fields of corn and colorful meadows covered the rolling hills around me. Trailers and mansions alike fit into the scenery as if they had always been there. The meadows began to give way to forests and hills to cliffs as I neared the Lake of the Ozarks. Eventually the Lake came into sight, a wonderful deep blue set against towering green bluffs and lined with upscale condos and private homes. The traffic was horrendous.

Jefferson City and Mexico and Louisiana were the towns that brought me across the remainder of Missouri. The steep hills gave way to planes of corn and soybeans. Louisiana itself sits upon the west bank of Old Man River and wonderful old brick buildings line the Main Street. An ancient truss bridge carried Highway 54 and myself across the girth of the river and into Illinois. 

Illinois greeted me with a wide valley lined with fields of corn. An unexpected phone call from a good friend also greeted me in Illinois, providing a wonderful conversation and traveling partner across the summer prairie. On the horizon a huge cloud bank towered over the small towns and corn fields, flashes of lightning illuminating the deep blues of the mass in the sky. Soon the afternoon sun was replaced by near darkness and torrential rain. It followed me all the way into Edgerton.

I could feel I was almost home when I came around the curve on I-90/39 on the north side of Janesville. Underneath me were the rails of the Wisconsin and Southern railroad, rails that I used to work on. The rest stop, the second set of railroad tracks and finally the big hill into the Rock River Valley were all the final landmarks on my way home. My exit was at the bottom of the hill. A right past the Shell station and Comfort Inn, a left turn at the Mobile station, and a right on to Gladys Drive and my yellow cottage came into view. I was finally back home after a month.

While it was great to sit in my living room with an August Schell's Firebrick in my hand the drive had worn me out. As much as I would like to relax in my house I was too tired. But I was also quite glad to have my own bed to sleep in again. As soon as the lights were out, so was I.

Fed Up

For two summers I sprayed weeds. Two summers! There were some really crappy days, but it was still a pretty tolerable job. I got to do a lot of traveling and see a lot of things. Usually the weed infestations were not too bad other than in spots.

But this year it's all gone to Hell.

Nearly a decade of a flawed vegetation policy (not my company, but the one we do the work for) have finally ruined the property. Instead of having mostly grass and native plants with a handful of noxious and trouble weeds spread throughout they now have solid weeds. Nary a blade of native grass to be found in most places. Where we were at today was solid marestail, peppergrass, Johnsongrass, ragweed, and thistle the entire right-of-way. That's over 30 feet on both sides of the rail, miles and miles worth. It's ruined. 

What happened was through this flawed policy a lot of grass was killed off and killed wide in order to eliminate all vegetation in certain areas, specifically leading up to crossings and around signs and signals. The reason they wanted to eliminate vegetation at crossings was because of visibility reasons, ie they wanted motorists to see the train coming. The problem is that before these crossings just had native grass growing around them which doesn't get more than a foot or two high. So they had all that grass killed and guess what came back? Yes, five and eight foot tall weeds! And they have completely pushed out all the grass, it will never come back unless it is planted. 

To do noxious control, in Kansas and Missouri in particular, you need a mixture that kills Johnsongrass. Guess what, that mixture also kills native grass. So spraying the entire right of way has killed all the grass and weeds have moved in. It looks like shit.

The problem for us, now, is trying to kill all of these weeds. Drift or runoff from previous years has pushed the weed problem so far out in a lot of places we can't even reach the weeds anymore. We also have to contend with all the trackside junk such as signs and signals and trees so we don't run into these with our boom all while trying to kill all the weeds around them! There is a person on each side of our truck running their own boom, so that all has to be coordinated so as to get everything covered on each side without destroying the spray boom. You would not believe the tension this puts in the cab of that truck and the intense concentration it takes to go around all these objects and cover the ground all while guessing what the guy next to you is doing on his side. And on this sub it is bad.

All day yesterday was spent constantly maneuvering that boom and concentrating on what I was spraying and what to look out for up ahead. I couldn't break my concentration long enough even to grab a drink of water or I probably would have missed something or ran into something. 

Now combine that with the big drift problems we are having even in relatively calm conditions. And there are no calm conditions in Kansas. Even a slight breeze sends a cloud of chemical up in the air and towards the nearest soybean field or garden. So how do you cover all the ground and not get drift everywhere? Good question. Even a second's worth of mistake can cause thousands of dollars worth of damage to a nearby field. Yet if we miss some weeds the County will be fining all the companies involved for not controlling the noxious weeds. It's even worse when a farmer sees you out there. You just better hope he's not carrying a rifle with because tempers can rise pretty quickly. 

Oh and did I mention it's highly illegal to spray in winds over 10mph? No one at the railroad cares, they just want the job done. It doesn't matter the huge fines a person could be held account for personally. We're lucky we don't ever get caught.

And then you have the whiney railroad employees. Don't even think about spraying within 100 feet or more of them, I guess they figure the smell of this stuff is toxic. If they even get a whiff you can bet your ass will be chewed by the roadmaster the next day.

Now combine all that with life on the road. We expect to be away for a minimum of four weeks up to and even beyond six weeks. And, unless you are a crew leader, you have to share a hotel room with someone. And from my experience most of the time it's a person you can't stand. Get blown out for the day and you spend it all just rotting away in your hotel room with someone you don't like. Sure you can use the company trucks a bit, but mostly only for short, small errands, or else you can expect a call from the front office. It's a little more tolerable when you stay in a decent sized town and there is stuff to do within walking distance, but some of these places are really in the middle of nowhere. You have to find your own entertainment. 

And for me, personally, I am becoming really dissatisfied with the pay. It's not a whole lot. If it wasn't for the vast amount of overtime one usually gets (20 hours average maybe) you would be just as well off finding a similar paying job and staying at home every night. To put up with the stress and life on the road and constantly being around people that you don't want to be around all the time is tough.

And another thing that irks me about pay as well is that this is not just any blue collar job. This is a very professional job and a risky job. You HAVE to be licenses, you HAVE to know the regulations, you HAVE to be vigilant. There is no room for mistakes here. Not to mention a train could derail on top of you at any time.

And what really pissed me off today is I found out, even on my third summer here, they started a guy out a few months ago, with no prior application experience, at $.75 less an hour than me. I have a bunch of experience, am really knoweledgeable, and good at what I do an I only get $.75 more an hour than a newbie? And they want to make me a crew leader besides! You know what the average raise for becoming a crew leader is? A buck! For three times the stress and all the other BS as a crew leader I may only be making two bucks more than some dumbass off the street who doesn't give a shit? Who will probably cause all kinds of damage? Who will miss half of what they are to spray?

I'm fed up with all of it. Reading this may sound like I'm whining, I think this is one of those jobs you just have to do to really understand it all. I could just as well be working at Wal-Mart and home every night instead of leaving my nice house and car and all my friends for months at a time. I can't wait to find a different job or the season to end, whichever comes first. This sucks.