Greenery

2016-01-26Greenery1515

There have been cards and letters arriving daily from readers all over the place, but mostly from those that are buttocks deep in snow and cold. Some have been angry. “Do something about this weather you ….. ” Some have been sad. “Please I beg of you change the weather, please” this one had actual tear drops on the email. Some have been depressed. “I’ve been on hold for two and a half hours. Don’t they man these suicide hotlines anymore. Are you going to do anything about this weather, ok nevermind. I’ll take care of it.” We tried to reach this individual right away but his line was busy. If you ever feel this strongly about the weather immediately move to Belize or maybe Costa Rica. It doesn’t snow there, ever. It’s always nice and they have monkeys.

The reason we get these letters is because we have a weather modification machine  that we can use to create desirable weather for those people we like, but unfortunately the Tuff Shed we store it in was damaged by a wind-driven snow storm and one of the unbreakable panels fell on the machine and broke the rare European 12AT7/ECC81 Vacuum tube that sat on the top of the machine. Of course it is critical to its function and we can not change any weather without it. RadioShack is out of them and is waiting on a backorder. Apparently there has been a run on these tubes as others who have weather modification machines in their garage or wherever have suffered damage to their machines as well. The tubes are made by a small family run company in Czechoslovakia which we understand has been split into two countries, Left Czechoslovakia and Right Czechoslovakia, so we don’t even know where to send them our order. We apologize for any inconvenience but this how modern commerce works today. Don’t blame us, blame “Just in Time Inventory control” we have nothing to do with that.

A few of us were sitting around the small compact nuclear reactor that we use to power many of The Institutes needs, just pressing the bottoms of our feet against its sides where it is the warmest and talking about being warm. That little dark-haired woman we call SK was acting silly and pressing her butt up against the sides of the reactor on a dare and the conversation turned to what it was like when you were a kid and wanted comforting.

One of the PhD’s who was putting ointment on a particularly bad burn on the soles of his feet, who is old but can still remember stuff, talked about how he liked to crawl into someone’s lap when he was younger, preferably a bigger woman like his mom or an aunt, or the neighbor lady who liked to come over just because she liked him crawling into her lap. It was back in the days before PC or political correctness became the law and you could say big, or heavy, or even fat if you knew the person real good and she didn’t get mad at you for saying it. He said he liked the warmth and softness of them and how he could wiggle until he felt just right and sometimes he would even fall asleep.

None of us thought he was too weird but then Ethan, the new intern that we use to change the fuel rods in the reactor, said he would like to get naked and squidgle down into the leaves in the picture above. Wrap up in them and feel how warm they were. The sun would make them feel like big soft green marshmallows and it would feel so good that maybe he just wouldn’t be able to stand it. We all thought that Ethan should have a  short break from fuel rod duty, maybe get in to the clinic to see what could be done about all of his hair loss. After he wandered off to find his lead-lined gloves we all talked about the green in the picture. How it seemed like you could fall into the green and just roll around on it. It had to be warm, like human skin warm, to get that green.

It certainly is not the same as summer but gathering around the heat source of your choice and looking at pictures that warm your soul if not your body seems like a good way to spend your long winter day. We’d write more but Ethan just jerked open the reactor door to change one of the fuel rods so we had to go out and wait in the hall for him to finish. It seems like it is taking him longer and longer to complete what should be a simple chore. OK then, Stay warm.

If you insist on knowing more about our weather modification program perhaps the following posts may help you.

http://www.bigshotsnow.com/bad-weather-day/

http://www.bigshotsnow.com/thors-revenge/

The Day The Color Stopped

tRolling Color5225

Running a national park is very expensive, like astronomically expensive, and Yellowstone is the most expensive of all our great parks to operate. It takes mammoth amounts of tax dollars every day just to keep the lights on. I’ve heard people say “Yeah, so what’s so expensive then. You got a main gate with some ticket booths, a couple of buildings scattered around and a few guys in ranger suits driving around in prius’s. I don’t get it.”

What these misguided folks don’t know is that there is more to running a park than ticket booths and prius’s and that deep in the wilderness off behind Virginia cascade, there is a huge complex that is the very heart of Yellowstone. You’ve seen these innocent appearing roads marked Service Road Do not Enter as you drive around the park. Where did you think they went? They all lead back to this complex discretely called Main Park Services. There are buildings above ground and buildings below ground that control every aspect of the park. It is a huge undertaking and responsibility.

There are huge pumping stations that power all the rivers in the park, from the slow-moving Madison to the raging torrent of Yellowstone falls. You didn’t think these rivers flowed by themselves did you. There are turbine barns that house giant fans that create the wind throughout the park. They are large enough to create the maelstrom of straight line winds that cause the massive blow downs of thousands of trees you see everywhere, yet gentle enough to keep the golden grass of the Lamar valley waving peacefully as you drive by.

There is a separate building that only houses the IT department for the park. Hundreds of backwoods nerds drink coffee by the boatload and keep the computers running so that everything looks normal for the millions of visitors that pass through the park yearly. They have a division that does nothing but make employee name tags 24 hours a day. They create the schedules that designate where all the wildlife in the park needs to be at a given time on a given day. Just keeping track of all the widgeons and Harlequin ducks takes a full-time employee. And that doesn’t even begin to explore HR and payroll.

One of the most important functions of this complex and one that keeps a team of full-time Engineers busy night and day is maintaining the system of Shock Absorbers that keep the park geologically stable and maintains its ability to dampen the effect of the near daily earthquakes that plague the park. Buried deep within the earth are a series of hydraulically manipulated cavities approximately 1 1/2 miles wide and 2 miles deep lined with a complex material woven out of Teflon, cobalt and spider silk that are filled with 10w-30 motor oil. These huge bladders occupy about 2/3’s of the cavity and when an earthquake occurs they have the ability to swell up and absorb the energy through compression. This keeps the surface of the park from the heaving that causes road and structure damage. This is a key system to operating the park safely and cannot under any circumstances go all wonky of a sudden.

Another system that is very important, not just for keeping the visitors of the park safe, but more for their emotional welfare is the C L T C system (Chroma, Luminosity, Tonality and Intensity).This is the heart of the parks color generating ability and is crucial in keeping the attendance level up in the park. No color no visitors. It’s as simple as that. People will put up with 6 point earthquakes, long lines at the restrooms, snafus in scheduling the wolf packs but screw with the color and that’s that. They’re gone.

Huge color projectors are running constantly generating all the hues you see as you travel through the park. The sunsets over the Firehole river where it meets the Madison, the burnt orange of the newly hatched buffalo calf, the flicker of blue as a Stellar Jay flits from one branch to another, all of these are as important to the visitors as the earthquake dampening system. Without the color all you have is a park that looks like a 1940’s B&W film of Czechoslovakia except with hills and grizzlies.

Which is why, when we had the day the color stopped, it was so catastrophic. It all started innocently enough. People were lined up at the overlooks at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone taking in the massive array of colors as they gazed at the multi-hued canyon walls. The impossible blending of every color you can imagine in a symphony of never-ending harmony that stretched for as far as you could see. What they didn’t see was the little relay switch on the main color projector blow with a small quickly dispersing cloud of smoke. Which led to an insufficient amount of power getting to the main bulb which suddenly flickered and died. Without the input from the bulb the CLTC system began to fail and the overload took out the backup system and color began to drain out of the Grand Canyon of The Yellowstone.

This had never happened before and soon people’s’ worst nature came to the surface. There was pushing and shoving, and instances of someone nearly going over the edge as the crowd stampeded for their cars. Children were crying, their arms outstretched waiting for someone to pick them up in a safe embrace, but the lack of color had the crowd panicking. They had only one thought in their minds. They had paid 50 bucks to get in and there was nothing to see. Fortunately there were no fatalities but it was only dumb luck that prevented them.

Yes, it was a terrible day, the day the color stopped, but the selfless employees at the complex did what it took to rectify the situation. A new bulb was slapped in, the CLTC system was rebooted and the little relay switch was replaced. Within hours the situation was back to normal. Yes there were a few people who left and felt they had wasted their 50 bucks, but those who had faith in the system were rewarded for their patience and loyalty with an extraordinary display of the colors of the Canyon that only a new bulb in the projector could provide.

We have provided an image from that fateful moment as the color began to drain out of canyon and you can see how depressing and mood altering this was for the spectators. It wasn’t long after this image was taken that the color completed drained out and flowed down the river lost forever. We have images of that too, but cannot in good consciousness show them to you.

The next time you visit Yellowstone National park and you feel the ground shake slightly, or see the rivers running freely, or notice the incredible beauty that color lends to the scenery you might think of that hidden complex called the Main Park Services and be thankful that the park is up and running as usual. I know I do.

Monument Valley Morning

MonValMorning4226
Monument Valley              Click to enlarge

For some of you it still feels like Winter, I know it and I feel your pain, but believe it or not there are places in our world, right now, where the sun is shining and you can go outside without long underwear, excuse me, they call it base layers now, and not freeze your fuon buey bueys off.

In fact the other day as I was lying on the couch in a carbohydrate-induced coma, I felt something warm and comfortable slide across my face, no it wasn’t the dog’s tongue, I’m out of dogs at the present, it was sunshine. Yes, sunshine. Well I was surprised I can tell you. I immediately jumped up, well, to be more accurate, rolled off the couch and crawled to the window to see if it was real.

It was and what’s more the snow that had been steadily climbing up the side of the house covering the windows and burying my car, had disappeared. You could see the ground. But the biggest miracle was that the lucky Aspen tree, the one we call Dead Tree Walking, the one that is still alive after all the attempts were made by the elements to kill it, had buds on it. Big ones too, like they were going to open tomorrow kind of big. How’s that for giving one hope?

I could feel the blood starting to move slowly and sluggishly around in my body, pressing up against the various valves in my veins, saying “open up, open up we need to get to the brain, we’re about to lose this guy!” and they did, those little valves, they opened and soon the flood gates were down and I was walking and talking and going outside and looking around, staring at the sun like some peyote-crazed Aztec. I marveled at the fact that white was not the dominant color anymore, that I hadn’t been trans-located to some black & white movie, set in Croatia or somewhere worse, like 1950’s Czechoslovakia, you know, all coal-fired steam trains, cold dark fog, grey with soot everywhere, all filmed 20 minutes after the sun went down.

As the sun warmed my head little thoughts started to dart around in my mind like those minnows you see at the edge of the shore, you remember, the ones that flit from one shadow to another at the speed of light, not staying in the sunshine for one moment longer than they need to, lest something bigger make a meal of them. Then bigger thoughts arrived, then bigger yet, edging into my imagination like the berthing of the Queen Mary. Huge ponderous thoughts like I used to have before Winter caught me and turned me into a couch dwelling, TV watching, soulless lump, nearly one of the undead but not quite.

One of the biggest thoughts coming up out of the murky depths, brought to the surface by the slow turning of the great props as the Queen of the Sea was slowly  brought dockside was ” I could go somewhere.”  yeah seems obvious to you I bet, but it was a revelation to me. I thought I was going to die on that couch. Never seeing the beauties of the world again. Alone, staring at the ice encrusted windows as the world turned slowly grey then black. So you can see how a guy would suddenly be GobSmacked, his life returned to him in an instant, full of hope and joy with the idea that there was a future.

Where to go though. I quickly ran to my computer and began feverishly going through the images I had placed in the folder labeled, “Places I want to go again if I live through this Winter” and up popped this image of one of my favorite places in the universe, Monument valley. It is early morning, the sun just rising high enough to clear the buttes, lighting my way to a secret place deep in the desert where no one has ever taken a picture before. The wind making a keening sound as it rounded the spires and towers as it finishes writing its name in the sand….. Listen I’d write more but I have to go pack the car. I got to go before Winter changes its mind.