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high country mud


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Posted by Zonie on May 21, 2023 at 09:57:35

Well since the Mud Pit doesn't work, I'll try posting my story here.

We've filled our vacancies at work at last. Nick's new assistant on the night shift had worked here before. Dustin had resigned in February 2020 because he couldn't get on with the day shift foreman, but since he's night shift now that's less of an issue. We're trying to modernize, including replacing paper furnace charts with computer records, so we've been updating him. Dustin and Nick had a blast this week when Nick decided to put oil-quenched bars in furnace 14 to temper without allowing time to vent smoke and oil vapor. He figured since the furnace was only at 600°F that would not be necessary, and he closed the lid immediately. Almost immediately there was an explosion. Fortunately nobody was hurt, and they managed to get the lid back on the furnace.

The other Kevin was fretting that furnace 14 might fail the temperature uniformity survey. I asked, "Why? Because it exploded?" He said there had been problems even before that happened.

Then I saw Dustin grinding slugs without wearing safety glasses. He asked where they were. I looked in the supply closet, and there were none. I left a note for the manager asking him to get some. I then went to my car to get a spare set. I didn't tell Dustin where I got them, lest he fear my germs more than eye injury.

I needed a diversion. A mid-latitude cyclone had created an anomalous southeasterly wind flow that mimicked the southeast monsoon, only two months early. It brought only sprinkles to the Phoenix area, and the temperature still got up to 100°F some days, so it wasn't much relief. The high country was a different story. The rain there had been heavy. I hadn't been there since before the COVID plague. I resolved to drive to the top of the Mogollon Rim, at 7500 feet above sea level. It seemed inefficient to drive six hours in order to hike four, but it seemed worthwhile.

When I got there I parked near a mud puddle and stomped around in that for a while. I then found a couple thick creamy mud puddles that were long and deep, about halfway to the knees on a secondary forest road. They were perfect for my jungle boots. I splashed through those. I then hiked deeper into the forest.

Altitude sickness would be uncommon at 7500 feet, and I wouldn't say I had that, but I definitely noticed my breathing was labored. Still I looked on it as an opportunity to build stamina and grow some red blood cells. For a while the forest road was dry, as it was on a downgrade and was too well-drained, but eventually it leveled off, and there was more mud. I left the road and ventured into the forest where I found a miry spot. I churned it up and did a partial wallow. There were some items in my pockets I didn't want to get muddy, so I didn't do a complete wallow, but I grabbed handfuls of mud and threw them at myself and stomped to splash myself until I was agreeably plastered and cool. One advantage to the high country I noticed immediately is that having pine needles mixed with the mud wasn't nearly as troublesome as having mesquite thorns mixed with the mud. Indeed, they helped hold the globs of mud together.

I resumed my hike and found that the secondary road rejoined Highway 87, so I turned back, stopping midway for a second partial wallow. I then returned to the two big mud puddles and marched back and forth through them. I heard thunder and felt some raindrops, and I was hoping for a downpour, but soon the thunder and the rain stopped. Eventually I tired of this and drove back.

It occurred to me that a rodeo was scheduled for Payson that evening, but I realized I don't have that kind of energy at my age and figured it would be best to go straight back. I had an MRE with me in my car, but for some reason I didn't experience hunger at all during the day. Still I thought I'd have something at Pete's Fish and Chips when I got back to Phoenix.

The fellow in line ahead of me asked what I did for a living. I said I was a metallurgical furnace operator. He asked what I was doing today. I said I was hiking. He said, "You're all muddy."

I said, "I was on the Rim. There's mud up there." I guess he originally thought I got muddy working. I sometimes had that pleasure as a construction worker and as a groundskeeper, but not thus far as a furnace operator.


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