Furnace Follies

I've been having fun with furnaces and tractors. I think God played a trick on me. I always wanted to be like the boys and do whatever I saw them doing. Well now I have to. My furnace started acting up in December, right before the kids were due to come home for Christmas.
I have two 500 gallon propane tanks tied together for increased storage, so I can take advantage of seasonally low prices on heating fuel. I had them filled in August when the price per gallon was $2.00. Not a very seasonal low, I must say. At any rate, the first tank was getting low after an extreme cold snap the first part of December, so I switched into the second tank. My furnace immediately became a fire-breathing dragon in the basement. It would huff so hard upon ignition sometimes it would blow out the standing pilot light. I thought at first it was the wind blowing out the pilot, so I climbed up on the roof and put a five-gallon bucket over the furnace vent. That didn't seem to help. I would come home from being at my male-dominated workplace (yes, another trick God played on me) and the furnace would be out; not a good situation with outside temperatures hovering around -20 degrees F.
So I started through my troubleshooting list. Thinking because the problem began when I switched tanks, it must be the high pressure regulator on the tank itself, I change that regulator. Problem continues. I order a new control valve for the furnace and change that, problem continues. After some Internet research, I deduct the burners might be dirty, so I pull the whole furnace apart and clean said burners and the firebox on the furnace. Problem continues, so I call the propane man to come fill the other tank from which I was pulling before the problem began. He made me put the old regulator back on the tank and told me it "had" to be a problem with the low pressure regulator on the outside of the house. I change that. Problem continues. I am at my wit's end.
I finally call my brother-in-law who owns a heating and cooling business 100 miles away. After describing the problem to him, his first reaction is that the furnace has a cracked firebox. Since I had examined the firebox pretty closely while cleaning it, I go on telling him the symptoms. He and I together deduct that I had a bad control valve and I got a bad control valve. He orders me another one.
In the meantime, I am home mostly just monitoring the fire-breathing dragon in the basement, as it is getting worse and worse, and keeping the wood stove and electric heaters I had placed around the house going. Sometimes the furnace would huff so hard upon ignition, it would shoot flames out of the furnace and kind of shake the house!
The new control valve finally gets here two days before I am due to return to my job away from the ranch. I drive round-trip 120 miles to get it and I get it installed about 24 hours before I have to leave. What a relief, though, to have the furnace functioning normally again. I could hardly believe, when I got home after being away at work for a few days, the pilot was still aflame. The beast in the basement is tamed. At first, I had to check to make sure it was still working because it was operating so much more quietly.
About the tractor next time...still a work in progress or regress, whichever.

Warrior Dolly and Warrior JD

Sorry I've been gone from the blogosphere for so long. It's just that my new part-time job is taking up a lot of my time. I am working every other week away from the ranch, so it seems I spend most of the weeks in between getting stuff done so I will be ready to go back to work the next week. It's a vicious circle, as the work-a-day world just is.
But, I like my new job. It's pretty much the same old job I did for 23 years, only for a new company. The new guys are all great to work with, and even some of the old ones I worked with before seem glad that I am back, so it's pretty pleasant so far. The only things I worry about are my horses and if everything is ok back at the ranch. I fill up the feeders and waterers before I leave, and leave Nacho, the dog, with my sister. Everything has been fine, so far.
But Jana and Chexy's breaking in is on the back-burner for now, at least through the holidays. I might get in a ride or two while my son is here visiting. I retrieved his mount from some dear friends of mine from Cheyenne Cowboy Church, who had boarded her in return for being able to use her for about four years. They took great care of her. Here's Dolly as a foal. She's a nine year-old registered Quarter Horse whose registered name is Warrior Dolly. Her lineage traces through Hot Warrior back to Seneca Warrior and Hot Foot Bar on her top side with Zan Parr Bar and Hancock Twist on her bottom.
She's a sweet mare and a joy to ride. Anyone can ride her. She loves to work cattle. I told my friend when I left her with him she didn't know much. He had some neighbors who asked him to come help gather and work off calves for weaning, and he told them he would, but that the horse didn't know much. He said he rode her out amongst them, and she just put her head down and went to work, almost doing it all herself. He said the neighbor's mouths fell open and they said, "Thought you said that horse didn't know much!"
So I'm looking forward to a reunion of a soldier with his horse. My son has been in the US Army for a little over eight years. He has just separated from the service this fall, as a Staff Sargeant wearing a Green Beret. Dolly was only a year old when he inducted, and my son owned a half-brother to her that was killed a few months after he left for basic training, so I gave him Dolly to replace the gelding that he loved. Dolly has many of the same characteristics that Shy had, so I know he's going to love her, too, he already does.
Merry Christmas.

Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go

Old pipe liners never die; they just keep monkeying with their wrenches! My Thoreauian experiment living in the wilderness lasted about as long as Henry's. I loved being retired, living and working on my little ranch with the horses. I knew the money was going to be tight when I moved home, but I hadn't counted on prices for propane, electricity, insurance, gasoline and groceries all increasing at a phenomenal pace. I also hadn't anticipated the stock market crash and losing over 100K from my little retirement fund. When a former colleague called offering me a part-time job back on the pipelines, I jumped at it.
I had been looking for work here in the smallest county in the USA almost since I moved home, but opportunities are few and jumped on by many. The great thing about my new job is that they offered to pay mileage from the ranch, so I can base here, and per-diem when I have to stay elsewhere, so that made it workable. I thought I had erased all that data from my memory bank, but it all started coming back. I guess after 23 years, it's kind of etched in the old hard drive. All the old crew seemed happy to have me back, and the new guys were all friendly and helpful. I guess they are happy not to have to spend a lot of time training someone.
I will be working ten days a month, so that means I will still have twenty days a month at the ranch.
The weather has been fantastic this fall. I rode Jana again today, and I am so pleased with the way she is progressing. She stands still for saddling and mounting. She now knows what "whoa" means, backs when asked, and is starting to neck rein a little. Today I started working on side passing some. She doesn't like that, but I can reach out, open a gate while on her back, and ride through it. She's going to make some lucky kid a wonderful riding friend.
The fillies are growing like crazy. They are all getting gentler every day as I feed them and brush and mess around with them.

Chexy's Breaking In

Chexy is a three year-old Quarter Horse filly that I acquired in a trade deal with my horse tradin' friend. I have just begun to work with her to get her used to the idea of having a rider on her back and doing as she is told. At left is a picture of her wearing the saddle for the first time. She wasn't too keen on the idea of wearing a saddle. She pitched it off a couple of times when I started to saddle her. Eventually I got it on her and strapped down with the cinch, and then she acted like it was no big deal.
The second time I went to saddle her, she was having no part of that, so I decided I'd best go to the basics, square one, and pretend that she had never been handled before. I put her in the round pen and started wiggling a Walmart plastic bag tied to the end of a buggy whip at her. She nearly went into orbit. I thought she'd calm down after a short time, but 20 minutes later, she was still doing laps around the round pen at a gallop. I confined her a little tighter and went at her with the dreaded horse getter bag. She tried to knock the pen down when she found she couldn't get away from it. She thought about trying to climb out a time or two, but I would just raise the bag in front of her face, and she would think otherwise. After about ten minutes of this treatment, she finally stood there and let me touch her with the bag. I guess I would call this part, "sacking out." In the old days we used to do it with a burlap bag or the saddle blanket.
Today, I caught her again and led her to the round pen. She balked at the gate, knowing something dreadful was going to happen in there. I led her over to the saddle and blanket lying near the center of the pen. When I picked up the blanket, I showed it to her and let her sniff it, then placed it on her back. She tossed up her head and bolted. I just let her. Then I got the horse-eating whip with the Walmart bag still tied to it and gave her all the more reason to run. She ran for about 20 minutes before she finally decided to let me get near with the bag/whip. Pretty soon, she was standing still while I rubbed her all over with the Walmart bag. It had become more tolerable than the running.
Then I led her back over to the saddle and blanket. I placed the blanket on her back again and rubbed it up and down her neck to just behind her ears and let her wear it there for a few minutes. She didn't flinch. I slid it back into place on her back, then picked up the saddle. I let her sniff the saddle, then went calmly up to her left side and set it on her back. She just decided to quit resisting and stood quietly as I cinched it loosely on her back. I led her off--nothing, not a jump, not a hump. Again, she acted like it was not a big deal.
I trimmed all four of her feet, since we'd had some moisture to soften them. She stood for that pretty well, although whenever she took a foot away from me, I would make her do a few laps around the round pen. When I finished up with her feet, I got the bag/whip again and flicked it all around her body. Chexy just stood there, hardly even flinching. It was like she was saying, "You can't make me run!"
I rewarded her by turning her loose and giving her some hay. I think this mare is going to do just fine, she's just going to take a bit longer than the ones out of my old stallion, because she has a little "hotter" disposition. She has a lot of cutting horse blood in her, which, according to my daughter, makes them fighters. But in the end, she will make a fine cow horse. I am looking forward to her being the first horse I have trained from start to finish in about seven years now.
Speaking of which, my fun retirement is about to come to an end. I was offered a part-time job on the pipe line filling in for the guys I used to work with when they need a day off. Since the horse market has been in the basement for a couple years and my retirement fund taking a licking in the stock market, I decided I'd best jump at the chance to work for wages once again. I am grateful it is only part-time, though and I will be able to spend time with Chexy...and Jana...and King...and Dixie...and, and, and!

Riding Weather

I rode Jana Jet Jones for the first time today.
I have had this six-year-old red dun mare for about three years. She was abused as a youngster and then her owner bred her as a three year old, so her growth is stunted. I bought her shortly after he bred her at age three, basically to rescue her. She had a nice little sorrel filly foal about nine months after I bought her and Dixie is another story for another post.
When I weaned her filly, I sent her to a trainer to start her under saddle because I still had a full time job and two homes 150 miles apart to care for. She was with this trainer for several months, but I don't think she was ridden much, if any.
She has a funny personality for a horse. She is a touch-me-not until you get her caught, then she immensely likes attention such as brushing and petting. She fought me tooth and nail a couple times before when I was attempting to trim her hooves, but we worked through that trauma and now she is pretty good about her feet--once you get her caught.
So I bridled and saddled her today. I used a ring snaffle on her because that is the most forgiving bit there is. She resisted the bit for a while, and I just let her stand and get used to carrying it. Then I mounted her in a very small pen just in case she might want to pitch. They know they can't do much in a small enclosure, so they usually don't do much. She didn't offer to buck at all, but she was not giving to the bit and there really wasn't room to turn around well.
I took her to the 50' round pen and put some driving lines on her. I worked with her for about 20 minutes on moving out, stopping, and giving her head. She was pretty sweated up and her head had lowered to show she was receptive. I mounted up in the round pen. She still wasn't appreciating having to give her head to the direction of the piece of metal in her mouth, but she never tried to pitch. I rode her around the pen for about another ten minutes.
She's a small little mare, about 14.2 hands, with a very pretty head. She has Easy Jet, Smart Little Lena, and Pa Jones in her background, so she should have some speed and I think she will make a wonderful little pony for some lucky kid...maybe my grandson! She's a little stubborn, but usually those make the best mounts because they have a lot of try. Plus, she is a proven producer, having delivered another fine filly foal this spring to go with the one she was carrying when I bought her.

Weaning Fillies

I took the fillies away from their mamas a little over a week ago. I shut them in one corral with their dams just across the fence in another for a couple of days. They were about five and a half months old, so it was time, and time to get the mares dried up so they could gain a little fat on their ribs before winter sets in.
The foals didn't fuss much the first couple days with the mares right across the fence. They just wandered around trying to stick their heads through the fence so they could nurse, to no avail. After I let the mares back out on pasture, the put up a small fuss, though. They ran up and down the fence and whinnied for their moms. The moms didn't really care, they were ready to get out and eat some grass down on the creek, and ready to be free of their little charges, I think.
I had started feeding them a little grain along with their dams a couple months back, so they made the transition in feed just fine. It's amazing how much they settle down after being taken away from mama. Right before weaning, they were all full of themselves and would run by and kick up their heels at me on the way. I had spanked a couple of them for kicking, and I thought that might be a problem after I confined them to the corral, but there has been no such bad behavior. I guess they lose their bravado somewhat when their security force (mom) is removed. I put my 25 year-old gelding in with them to babysit. He needs the supplemental feeds they will be getting, also, and I figured he would make the fillies feel more secure. He has. The weaning has gone very smoothly so far.
After a week, I started letting the babies and old Gremlin back out on pasture during the day, then shutting them in at night, for fear of Mountain Lions. Whenever I have colts, the big cats seem to wander through. They can kill a colt and drag it up in a tree where they will return to feast for days, I have been told.
Two of the fillies have really settled down and become very approachable and even coveting my attention when I go to the corral, so I scratch, brush and pet them and pick up their feet to get them used to that. The littlest one, which I call Tiny, is a little stand-offish. She comes by that naturally, though. Her dam exhibits the same trait, besides Tiny was the one that knocked herself silly during halter breaking. I'm sure she remembers having had a headache as a result of contact with humans. Horses don't forget easily, especially a very frightening experience. But Tiny will come around just like all these excellent Permalight offspring.
Poor old Gremlin is having trouble maintaining his weight, and I'm afraid he is not going to survive the winter if it gets bad, like I think it is going to by reading the signs. I surely am dreading the day of his inevitable passing, somebody close the gate!

Hunting Season

I dread hunting season more and more each year. This year, Wyoming lengthened the season an extra week, so bowhunting started the last week in August. I had three antelope hunters here from Ohio hunting with bows and arrows. They each got a nice buck without too much trouble and they were fun to have here. I enjoyed cooking for them and visiting with them.
Then gun season started and that's when the fun ended. The state went around and put up signs designating all the state lands as walk-in areas. There is quite a bit of state land around here, and some of it is fenced in with the ranches, making it hard to tell where it starts and ends. Quite a few hunters found the state land that is right over my west boundary fence and it got a lot of pressure.
Historically, I haven't allowed much hunting to take place on my small ranch, simply because it is so small. As a result, the game feels pretty safe hanging out on my property. The deer had gotten into my expensive hay last winter and ate over a ton of it, so I decided maybe I should allow a little hunting. Some guys hunting the state land noted the game was hanging out on my property, so they came and asked to hunt. I agreed since they were considerate enough to come ask, and the guy had two small boys with him, so I figured it would be a good family time for them if they could be successful. They were.
Last Sunday a guest and I were out riding. While we were opening the wire gate to ride onto the state land, a black S.U.V. with Arkansas plates pulled up and a bearded man got out with landowner coupon in hand.
"This your ranch?' he asked.
"No," I answered, "this is public land. It goes in the box," motioning toward a wooden box on the fence, which he already knew was there.
My guest began visiting with the man a little as another man climbed out of the car to take pictures of us on the horses. The Arkansawyer said he had gotten a nice buck and my friend rode over to look at it in the back of the car.
"Where did you get it?" he asked.
The Arkie pointed and said, "Down over that fence yonder," which meant he had shot the buck on my land! I started to get my dander up, but my horse was dancing around in the road ditch because, unlike her sibling which my guest was riding, she didn't like the smell of the dead animal in the S.U.V., so I just moved off a ways. My friend said the man had gut-shot the antelope and hadn't field dressed it, so the guts were still in it! No wonder my horse didn't like the smell.
I decided he was too stupid to even upbraid about hunting on private land without permission. He wouldn't have comprehended. If he took the game to a locker plant, I bet he got a thorough chewing out. That meat will not be fit to eat. It rather made me mad that he had already put his landowner coupon in the state's box, though. I made a mental note to post more signs on the fence before hunting season starts next year.