How Not to Move a Midget

After delivering my Orange Midget to it's new owner in Virginia I went to Lee's to pick up the British Racing Green Midget I inherited from my Dad a couple years ago. Lee has been keeping it safe for the past year and has become quite protective of it. When I tried to start it, it refused so we would have to find another way to get it on the trailer. I parked the trailer at the bottom of a hill and we pushed the midget to the end of the driveway. The plan was to get it rolling fast enough to make it up the ramps to the trailer deck. The danger in this plan was if the ramps weren't aligned perfectly the front tires would slip off. The ramp alignment was perfect on the first attempt, but we didn't get it rolling fast enough to make it all the way up to the trailer. We pushed it back farther up the hill, I got in and Lee gave it hell. I hit the ramps with plenty of speed and braked just at the top because the wooden trailer deck had a thin coating of snow. Once on the deck, I put the midget in gear, pulled on the emergency brake and chocked the wheel. The truck was blocking the road so I decided to back into Lee's driveway. It was only 30 feet, so I thought the midget would be fine without being strapped down. The result - as Charlie Murphy would say "Wrong!, Wrong!!"



The snow on the wooden deck was so slick that the whole thing slid back when I hit the brakes, chocks and all. Lee yelled "Stop", but it was too late. The rear wheels were hanging off the back of the trailer. If my knee was healthy we might have been able to lift it back on, but I tried with one leg and it wasn't budging. Lee had a better idea. He got an axle jack and a 2x4 and was able to jack it up high enough for us to it push on.





With the Midget fully on the trailer I decided to apply the logic "If it doesn't work the first time, try again it the exact same way" and back it the rest of the way into the driveway without the it being strapped down. Lee came to the rescue again and strapped the front end before I could move any further. Genius. Thanks and congratulations to Lee for taking such good care of the midget and getting it out of his garage just in time for his new baby Isabella (which will be staying in the house).

Space Shuttle Launch from Space

My Uncle sent me these pics of the Space Shuttle Discovery launch taken from the International Space Station last September. He wasn't on the space station at the time, in fact he's never been on the space station. Not only is the space shuttle captivating, but all the hang glider pilots out there will appreciate the cloud streets parallel to the coast. I can't wait to see some of those fair weather cumi's out here in Colorado.

Knees, Dogs, Midgets, and Talks with Strangers

Life on the Lee-Side has been in a state of neglect the past week, so here are highlights of my week.

It's been 19 days since my knee surgery and for the most part I'm healing well. A little residual swelling has delayed my return to work, but I hope to back in the air tomorrow. My focus for the near future is to take it easy on my knee, do lots of PT, and let it heal properly before resuming my normal activity level. It's a beautiful Sunday today and the temptation to get a hang glide off Look Out Mountain is high. It's not soarable, but it's been a couple months since I've flown and getting a landing in would be great to keep my currency. Other than a direct contradiction to my recovery plan above, not being able to run or bear any load on my knee will keep my hang glider in it's PVC pipe hanger today and in the near future. At least the dogs are enjoying the nice weather.








Knee pain aside, my week has been somewhat productive. Having to give up my mountain bike racing career (only temporarily) I have shifted my energy elsewhere and bought a new toy. Only 690 BMW M Coupes were made with the S54 315hp motor. Mine is number 493! It's a good investment and orgasmic to drive, but I struggle with owning such a nice material possession. I'm not the typical schmoozer BMW owner and bought this car purely for it's style, and performance assets.

Alas, nothing in life comes without sacrifice so my beloved 1973 MG Midget had to go. I've written several posts about my adventures in this car. I still have scars on my leg from the electrical fire back in October! I bought this car to use in the restoration of my Dad's 1972 British Racing Green Midget, but deciding it was too nice to cannibalize. I decided the best course of action was to sell it to someone who would enjoy it and ensure it would live a long and happy life.







On the drive to deliver it to the buyer and pick up Dad's Midget I encountered a fan at a gas station in Missouri (which is the explanation behind my previous post). He asked me what year is was and why it was on a trailer. I told him, remorsefully, I was selling it because I bought a another car. He asked me what kind of car I got. I told him "An M Coupe" to which he remarked ecstatically - "Wow, that's my dream car!!!" Then he went on to tell me with a sparkle in his eye that he had just bought a new car. I engaged his enthusiasm and asked "What did you get?" His mood suddenly changed and he lowered his head. Then he pointed to a brand new mini-van. Before I could compliment him on his purchase a high pitch voice pierced our ears with the words "Stanley, stop talking to strangers! Get back here!! Lets go!!!" We were both stunned by his wife's outburst from the front seat. "Well, I better go...", he said solemnly. I put a supportive hand on his shoulder and responded, "Take care man." Although I did feel sorry for him, the way his wife yelled at us and the way he reacted was hilarious and I laughed about it for hours!

12 Hours to the Arch

It's 2am and my research showed today that it takes exactly 12:10 minutes to get from Boulder to the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, MO. More on why I'm researching that in a later post. If I'd been more resourceful I would have a cool late night picture of the Arch. The locals were overly interested in my cargo and I was distracted by defensive driving. One guy passed me on the shoulder at over 100 mph. Very tired now, off to bed...

Lone Whooping Crane Survivor

A couple days ago I read this in the OZ Report, a story about 18 Whooping Cranes drowning from being trapped in an enclosure during violent storms.

All 18 endangered young whooping cranes that were led south from Wisconsin last fall as part of a project to create a second migratory flock of the birds were killed in storms in Florida, a spokesman said. The cranes were being kept in an enclosure at the Chassahowitzka National Wildlife Refuge near Crystal River, Fla., when violent storms moved in Thursday night.

Being somewhat partial to my feathered kin I was deeply saddened by the story, but today there was a glimmer of hope. Here's the story.



MIAMI — The fate of a generation of endangered migratory whooping cranes now rides on the fragile wings of a 10-month-old chick known as No. 15.He is the sole survivor of the class of 2006, 18 captive-reared crane hatchlings that were guided by four costumed ultralight aircraft from Wisconsin to Florida wintering grounds in December. Conservationists with Operation Migration had feared that all of the hatchlings died in the Friday storm that killed at least 20 people in central Florida and put hundreds out of their homes.But No. 15, a male chick, managed to break loose from a top-netted pen when tornadoes struck. A radio transmitter on the crane's leg sent out signals over the weekend, said Joan Garland of the International Crane Foundation in Baraboo, Wis. Just before nightfall Sunday, an aerial search team of foundation volunteers spotted No. 15 with two sandhill cranes in the Chassahowitzka National Wildlife Refuge on the Gulf Coast, about 70 miles north of Tampa."What a bright spot he is in this sad time," said Joe Duff, a founder of Operation Migration and one of the ultralight pilots who guide each year's young cranes from their summer home at the Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in central Wisconsin. "We've lost a whole generation."The loss is devastating to Operation Migration's work, as part of the Whooping Crane Eastern Partnership, to restore the migratory population in North America. It's also devastating to those dedicated to preserving the species, which numbered only 15 in 1940. Scientists and wildlife conservationists try to stay aloof from their wards. They refrain from naming the birds, to reinforce the idea that they are not pets but wild creatures, said Duff."Still, you get attached," he said of those, like himself, who intervene so gently that they wear white birdlike costumes when working near the cranes. Even the ultralights the birds are trained to follow on their maiden winter migration are designed to look like whooping cranes in flight.No. 15 and his classmates were a story of success against all odds. A snowstorm a year ago disrupted breeding at Maryland's Patuxent Wildlife Research Center for a month. Despite the late hatching and return of the fledglings to Wisconsin, Operation Migration managed to get a flock of 18 trained in time to trail the ultralights on the trip south, starting in October.Inclement weather along the migration route slowed the birds' journey to Chassahowitzka from the usual 50 days to 78. No. 15 dropped out on the last leg of the journey but was spotted two days later and reunited with the flock.Then Friday's tornadoes wiped out a year of work to bolster the species, which numbers fewer than 500 across North America and now only 64 in the Wisconsin-Florida flock."These chicks were like our children; the start of a new generation of life for the species," Operation Migration said in a note of bereavement on its website, http://www.operationmigration.org . The Craniacs, as they call themselves, have created a fund in memory of the 17 killed and to celebrate No. 15's survival. "Remembering the Class of 2006 Fund will go a long way to help us recover from a costly setback that amounts to a year of time and effort and approximately $500,000," the website says. Wildlife biologists aren't sure exactly how the birds were killed. They suspect a lightning strike during the ferocious pre-dawn storm. The birds also might have drowned in their enclosure if they were trapped by the net during a storm surge brought on by 165-mph winds, Duff speculated.The crane carcasses have been sent to the University of Florida in Gainesville for necropsies to be carried out with a grant from the Disney Wildlife Conservation Fund, said Jim Kraus, the Chassahowitzka refuge manager. Kraus said that the conservationists might rethink the practice of covering the newly arrived cranes' territory with netting to keep older cranes from harassing the newcomers, which are fed in pellet form until they learn to forage for themselves. The youngsters are kept under the netting until they are strong enough to be released into a larger, uncovered 5-acre pen, said Garland, of the crane foundation.The 17 that died were within a few weeks of graduating from the covered pen, which is only about 150 feet wide, she said. Until Friday's disaster, the project had been a "wonderful success," said Rachel Levin, a spokeswoman for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and for the Whooping Crane Eastern Partnership. The eastern flock has been developed since 2001 to augment the continent's only other migratory flock, about 250 whooping cranes that breed at the Wood Buffalo National Park of Canada in Alberta, and winter at the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge on the Texas Gulf Coast."As was unfortunately demonstrated by the storms Friday, it only takes one catastrophic weather event or disease outbreak to kill a large number of birds at one time," said Levin.While No. 15 has been pushed prematurely out of his coddled childhood, he is expected to mingle with other whooping cranes not yet of mating age in what the project supporters call "bachelor cohorts." Being the only survivor of his generation shouldn't affect No. 15's breeding potential, the crane advocates said. Generally monogamous, whooping cranes don't mate until they are about 5 years old and often pair off with a bird from a different generation.Wildlife biologists are hoping No. 15 will remain with the older whooping cranes at the refuge, learning to forage and roost until it is time to fly north. "He's been led on migration once, so he has an idea where he's going," Duff said. "I expect we will see him in Wisconsin in the spring."

Source LA Times, http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/asection/la-na-cranes6feb06,1,6763203.story?coll=la-news-a_section

Stir Crazy

I've spent the past 3 days slowly recovering from my knee surgery. I'm not of the personality type that does well sitting idle for extended periods of time, so I made a list of tasks to keep myself occupied. Taxes, organizing paperwork, catching up on my logbook, selling cars, editing photos, etc. I'm going to be laid up for the next 2 weeks and haven't done a good job of pacing myself, so now I have a nagging sense that I might run out of things to do while I'm laid up. Here are some random leaf pics I took back in the fall.



I did get a little stir crazy yesterday and decided to go to the store for some turkey and Izzies. It was quite an adventure. Hobbling around the crowded store in my bright red poof-jacket and crutches it was impossible not to stare at me. So, naturally, I managed to have a few exaggerated crashes into displays and people's carts. A lady did accidentally run her cart into my leg and even though it didn't hurt I made quite a scene. "OUCH! OUCH!! OUCH!!! OUCH!!!! THE PAIN! WHY!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!" was just part of my Oscar-caliber performance. She was mortified and disappeared into the crowd quickly.



I've also mastered the technique of having noticeable trouble signing receipts while having the crutches wedged in my armpits. It makes in impossible for me to reach the receipt with the pen. Most people try to ignore it at first, but eventually they start to laugh. Then embarrassed at laughing at my hardship they try to hide it. At this point I've got them and really exaggerate my efforts. The lady behind me yesterday lost it so bad she had to go stand in a different line!



Crutches are a whole new bag of material and the humor of my antics has kept my spirits up. I will say that it has changed my perspective on those who are physically challenged and I have a newfound awareness of how hard it is to get around without all of your facilities. In the future I will go out of my way more than ever way to be of assistance.

Ouch - My Knee

My knee surgery went well yesterday.

At 6:00am when I went out to start the car I noticed an old man slumped over on the sidewalk. It was dark and I was tired so it took me a while make out details as I approached him to see if he was okay. It looked like he was having a heart attack and I was about to run in and get Jo so she start administering care. He said he had slipped on the ice and wanted a ride to his house on the corner. I helped him in the car and said "I'm already headed to the hospital why don't you just let me drop you off at the emergency room?" He agreed, so after getting Jo and the dogs off we went in the snow.

Jo dropped me off and then took my neighbor to the emergency room. In the pre-op, they let Jo do my IV, but my skin is tough so both her and the nurse missed the first time. With needle wounds in both arms, I almost passed out while they swapped needle stories back and forth over my bed. Finally when Jo noticed that I was as white as a ghost she suggested they change the subject.

The Doc cleaned out some ChondroMalaysia (damaged cartilage caused by the knee cap rubbing against the bone) from under my knee cap and also removed some inflammation from my Popliteus Tendon band. It's not a cure all fix, but with some time off I should be better than I was. The Popliteus Tendon / Muscle seems to be my trouble area. I must have either torn, stretched, or separated it at some point, but unfortunately there isn't much a surgeon can do orthoscopically to address that area. When I woke up with a cannula in my nose I was yelling at the nurse to put her oxygen mask on because I thought we were in an emergency descent. This happened last time I woke up from general anesthesia. I think my words were something like "No you calm down! Get your mask on, we got get this thing below 14000 feet!!" They all had a good laugh about how agitated I was.

Here's a diagram of the knee so you can see what I'm talking about.

And just in case you were going to be eating anytime soon here's the real thing!