Things have been a bit slow here lately. The bone spur removal on my foot has left me with a lot of time to kill, and of course think. Some of that comes from getting older, although the really hard stuff is quite some time down the road. Still I am to the point in my reflection where I am remembering the embarrassing stuff. For the most part I have done pretty well and acted honorably with the exception of a few of the opposite sex that I wish I had treated better. I can only plead the callowness of youth, and hope for the best.
There are always major "turning points" such as the decision to not go to Army Helicopter training in 1963, that would have been totally life changing, not to mention possibly shortening, but I am not talking about the obvious ones. Just the little inconsequential day to day things that reach across the decades.
One such was the purchase of a shortened VW frame with a 36 horse motor in a box. Piddly cost of $100.00. That event has caused more money, trouble and change, one could say punishment than almost any other act of my life.
At the time I was a fairly new Oregon State Police Trooper in Klamath Falls, Oregon. One of the city Policemen offered the VW to me. It had been shortened by 18 inches. The perfect Dune buggy project. I bought it on the spot. Karen and I had been married about 6 years, and we were doing about as well as could be expected. Not great, but not bad either. I imagine that she felt that it was a waste of money, and before I could even blink, had found a 2 year old Appy mare for just the same amount of money. Like I had done she presented me with the act already accomplished. Checkmate!
We both had fun with our different projects, and I have to admit Dusty, the aforementioned horse, was pretty great and a lot of fun. Of course I am leaving out all the barns, feed, hay, trimming, shots, trailers, foals, tack,and odds and ends. The list is tedious any way. While I learned to weld while building the Dune Buggy.
I used the Dune Buggy for hunting, camping and all around fun. The damn thing would go just about anywhere. I could jump fallen trees with it after I put a skid plate on the bottom. One day while Squirrel hunting for hawk food, I decided to jump a ditch with it. I got over the ditch alright, but I twisted my back in the process. It wasn't bad enough to be serious at the time. However a few nights later while on patrol I had to help in the arrest of a drunk driver that bolted. I grabbed him, but my back was hurting badly enough that I could not wrestle with him. End result, a busted fist, and he spent the night in the hospital. Admitted for a sprained wrist. There was a bit of a dust up over that with the result that I was supposed to get three days off without pay. I had a supervisor much higher that wanted more, and I ended up quitting in disgust. Life is much too short to deal with assholes. It just wasn't worth it.
I took a job at a lumber mill on a temporary basis until a horseshoeing course would open up at Oregon State College. I had turned down three other state jobs in the process. I was pretty burned out.
Fifteen weeks later I was self employed. It wasn't all that bad. Of course Arab horses and their owners were the bane of my existence, but it was pretty good. Over all, nasty working conditions, lots of heavy sweaty work, but still not bad. The only hang up was winter. Nobody wanted horses shod in the winter, so I drove a School bus and worked at a towing company the rest of the time.
Karen had gone to town for me once to resupply and mistakenly bought 50 lbs of racing plates. We were both too busy to return them, so my welding hobby kicked in and I built "nick nacks" out of horse shoe racing plates. I tried to sell them, but apparently I thought too highly of my work, so in disgust,I started giving them away. One of the gals, (Terri) that I gave them to worked for the Superintendent of the Burlington Northern RR.
The only problem with my winter employment was that the kids were always sick, and of course they shared with me each time they got on the bus. They either coughed, sneezed or farted at the top step. I was always sick each winter. One day Terri called and asked me if I would like to have a job with the RR as a welder. I explained that I really didn't know how to weld, but she assured me that they would teach me. Thirty years later I retired from that job.
We sold the house that we bought during that period, and bought a place here in the High Desert of Oregon, bringing two horses with us. I gave the Dune Buggy away for scrap when we left.
One of the two Tennessee Walker horses that we had was a pain in the butt to catch. We finally sold him to a horse trader, leaving a 6 foot at the withers gelding that is still a kid in his mind. I finally talked Karen into letting me give him away to a friend in Klamath. Walkers are about as much in demand here as rubber crutches. Hay at this point is about $200.00 a ton. He needed 5 tons a year for feed. His main function these last few years has been fertilizer manufacturing.
So, I hope that I am finally free of the VW curse. It has been expensive, but it has been a plus as well.
Indirectly the VW caused me to quit the State Police. I could have retired at 50 years old, but would I have retained my "sweet" personality with 25 years of dealing with the assholes and dregs of humanity? I doubt it. It took me three years to overcome my personal PTSD of being a cop. At the same time it positioned me to work for the RR in a job that I really enjoyed. Giving me a retirement that was comparable to the one that I left behind on the State.
All in all it is very interesting to see how things are linked to that one day, and that one urge. I wonder how it would have turned out, if I had declined the urge to buy it?
