Dig Deep for Big Trouble

In the merry month March 2025, we went looking for trouble - and we found it, in spades.

The old house is has been home for 35 years, and it has old age issues. As plain as the wrinkles around my eyes in a Monday morning mirror were the signs of an aging house. In places, the mortar between the bricks has gapped to an unsightly degree, inside the house our drywall has jagged cracks and the Master Bedroom ceiling has a fault line running down the middle with a quarter inch displacement where the popcorn-coated ceiling sheetrock panels have separated. It is ugly. It needs to be replaced, but I find it all easier to ignore.

Returning to Texas an this old house in January from my residence in a newly constructed country estate beauty of a house in Washington, the ugliness can no longer be ignored. Plans are made. Chances will be taken.

I got three bids to do a foundation repair, which entails digging under the slab and setting a stack of concrete piers under the slab which has differentially settled. This settling over the years has caused stress cracks in the masonry joints outside and the drywall inside. The house will be lifted at various points with a hydraulic jack, and once the tilted house is returned to a less slouchy position, the slab is stabilized with support piers sunk to rest upon the solid limestone bedrock 6 to 8 feet below. This has to be done we are told if we ever intend on selling the house. We are thinking it is good to live in a house that is not build upon sinking sand, or in the case of North Texas, expansive montmorillonite clays which compose the substrate upon which our neighbor is built and inevitably shifted and damaged.

We select a reputable contractor for the repair. It is suggested that we install 16 piers; 14 piers to lift and stabilize the south corner of the house and the north corner and 2 piers to be installed in the master bedroom by cutting through our wood floor to get to the concrete slab underneath and then dig a big hole in the middle of our love nest. We negotiate with the contractor and go with just the outside 14 piers and skip the destruction inside. 

Excavating holes along the south, master bedroom wall

A crew of six arrives at 8:30 AM on Monday. El Hefe marks the walls with a piece of blue tape to tell the crew where to dig the 5' deep holes. The crew flashes their spades and gets after it and they have lots of holes around my house in surprisingly little time.

The workers fit themselves into the holes and using hydraulic jacks, they drive 1-foot concrete cylinders into the clay under our slab until they hit bedrock. The house is coaxed back closer to its original position and the final pier is installed and shims are fitted between the last pier and slab. The house groans and cracks like the adjusted spine of a hobbled patient under the skilled hands of a chiropractor. 

I had ulterior motives and high hopes that the crew would have to remove all of the Ligustrum bushes in front of the house, as we are wanting to relandscape and are hoping not to have dig out all the bushes ourselves. No luck. They did dig out 2 or 3 Ligustrums, that leaves 5 for me to handle. 

We are in almost over our heads with this foundation repair project

Six to eight concrete cylinders are driven to bedrock to support 
the house from here on out 

All of the work is done in a single day. The crew cleans up everything real well and drives away.

The gaping crack above the master bedroom door has closed up. Good! The gaps in the mortar joints on the outside of the house are still open, as are the cracks in interior fireplace. The idea was not to stress the house to necessarily fix the cosmetic cracks, but to return the foundation slab to a stable, less warped condition. I think they did a good job with that. 

An independent structural engineer came the following week and said that his opinion was that we got a got job for our money. 

A jackhammer is used on the front porch and back patio
to allow digging and pier placement

Yikes! 

Nothing to do with the foundation repair work, but it just goes to show you that bad things come in threes. The night after we supported our house and the contractor's yacht club fund, it had warmed up enough in Texas to turn on the A/C. It did not cool down in the house that night.

I suspected a need to recharge the coolant line and called my A/C technician. He tested out unit and found the that the circuit board was fried. 

Still under warranty (good) but more expensive to replace with labor costs than just recharging the system (bad). Oh, besides, our duct work in the attic needs to be repaired because of rodent damage. Estimates start at $1725. Rats! 

This is getting expensive.

XXX!!!!!!XXX

In order to get a lifetime warranty on the foundation repair, we were required to hire a plumber to test both our water and sewer lines under the slab to see if any of the plumbing was now leaking. The foundation company has a clause in that says that if a leak develops after our work, we take no responsibility and if that is the case, then: It Sucks to be You. I signed that contract.

The plumber came out after the foundation was lifted and found that our potable water lines were all good. He could not find the sewer clean out valve and told me it was likely snapped off and it would be $1275 to replace it. I declined and gave the plumbing company 2-stars out of 5 for charging me full price and performing only half the work.

Sue, went digging in front of the house to wrestle with the Ligustrum and easily found the clean out valve that the licensed, professional plumber was unable to locate. 

Plumbing company returns after bad review to look a second time - at no charge. They use the sewer clean out that Sue located and test our sewer. It fails. There is a leak under our slab. For another $450 they can tell me where the leak is located.

I pay the piper, and find out that our sewer line is leaking below the closet off the master bath. This is getting expensive. Now even more.

I have a crew scheduled in early April to dig a 12' tunnel under our slab to reach the suspected leaking location and repair it. 

I guest after calculating my 2024 Federal Tax bill, doing a little lift work on the foundation, fixing the A/C and scheduling a nasty plumbing repair bill to coincide with 1st half of 2025 property taxes and insurance for both our vehicles I should be thankful that all my problems can be simply solved with money.

Not all of life problems can be fix so easily. 

Yet, I find small consolation this spring season. A leak in my plumbing and a leak in my wallet.

If a tree falls in the desert... A Visit to the Petrified Forest

After returning to our room from our supper at a Denny's Truckstop at the edge of Winslow, Arizona, I turned down the covers to our bed. I asked my girl how she was feeling.

"Meh," she said.

I arranged her long hair, whispering to her, "I want to sleep with you in the dessert tonight, with a billion stars all around."

She picked up on my use of the lyrics from the Eagles' song, Peaceful Easy Feeling. She rolled into her pillow, telling me, "Take it easy, don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy."

I smiled and kissed her goodnight.

I'd tucked my ailing - but recovering, wife into bed, cooing:

    Well, we're a resting' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona,

Tomorra, we've got such fine sights to see,

It's phytosaur my Lord, in a bone-dry ford,

Restin' under a petrified tree.

Come on baby, don't say maybe

I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.

We may lose and we may win

But we may never be here again,

So open up, I'm climbin' in.

Oooh, oooh ooh.

She was either already asleep, or she was willfully ignoring my off-key rendition of the Eagles, Takin' It Easy.

***

We rose from our hotel bed in Winslow, Arizona. This was Day 4, the Final (and longest) Leg of our hard-driving return to Texas. Susan was feeling OK, not great, but good enough to explore the desert on a bright and cool January morning.

Our plans were to marvel at the specimens of 217 million year old fossil trees that grew in a great Jurassic swamp, fell into the swamp and were petrified by silica-rich waters derived from volcanic ash replacing their woody tissue. The mineral laden waters filtered through the soil and turned wood into jasper and agate with surreal colors from mineralization. 

Susan and I are a great match. We love reading the rocks and tripping out on geology!

Petrified log weathers out from 217 million year old [Jurassic] sediments

Petrified Forest National Park is bisected by I-40, so it was directly on our route back to Texas. I'd often been more interested in making miles than memories when I've driven through Arizona before, so I'd never deviated from my route to see the Petrified Forest. But this day, we had purposed to groove on the geology, even if it meant getting home to Texas at 3 AM. We stopped at the visitor's center at the south end of the park, getting the geologic story and seeing their displays of fascinating reptilian fossils (pre-dating the dinosaurs) found in the formations in the Park.

Susan inserts her head between the choppers of a Phytosaur

I love these armored early reptiles like this Aetosaur

We were both getting kind of excited by what we saw in the small museum, and were ready to get out to see the fossils in their natural habitat. Petrified Forest NP is primarily a 'drive-through' park, with a few stops and very short trails to walkabout the formations and the fossilized trees. Other stops included early human habitations in the area with stone structures and petroglyphs etched into the dessert varnish.

We strolled through the Crystal Forest, our first little walk.

Multi-hues jasper and agate minerals in an old log

Naturally disaggregated log segments left in a ravine
after they tree weathers out of the sediments and breaks

 Part of Petrified Forest NP includes the 'Painted Desert', colorful formations, arroyos and rounded hills. I love to stand and absorb the geology of charming places like this. Science is so invigorating, it stirs the mind and soul.

A minimalist, sensually sculpted desert terrain - something a geologist comes to love

We walk among the fallen trees, noting the different bark textures of the species that once grew in this swamp before continents and latitudes shifted, turning this into Arizona's Painted Desert after millions of years.  

Rich colors of mineralized wood

Our park road brought us to a place below the cliff that has stone faces etched with mysterious petroglyphs. These protected bits of human artistry are believed to represent Indian clans and their territorial markings, or talismans and magic for favorable hunting expeditions or maybe just doodling for fun. The petroglyphs can be seen through telescopic viewers some distance from the rock face.

There is a site of an abandoned 100-room pueblo that also has some nearby glyphs carved onto the sandstone. The interpretive sign suggests some different possibilities for the meaning of these images. 

There is an image of a giant bird that seems to have a small person on the tip of its beak.

Giant bird snatches small person

One of the suggestions as to the meaning of this terrorizing bird is that it is a cautionary story spoken as a warning by mothers to misbehaving children; "If you don't settle down and behave, the giant bird will come to the village and snatch you away like all the other bad kids before you!" I think parenting has not really changed in the last 2,000 years.

Our journey had us cross north of I-40 and visit the portion of the park designated as the Painted Dessert.

We truly enjoyed our trip through the Petrified Forest. Susan was expecting just pieces of scattered petrified wood and was thrilled to have her expectations exceeded by huge, colorful logs of stone in full, abundant view across the dessert floor.

After leaving the Painted Desert, we had plenty more miles of Arizona and New Mexico dessert to amaze us on our way to Garland, Texas. Darkness caught up to us about half way through New Mexico after our terrific afternoon in Arizona. 

My stomach remembered the best chicken fried steak I've ever been served at Del's Cafe in Tucumcari, NM. It was sunset and I opted to not skip a meal, but stop at Del's IF the place in this forlorn, dusty town of Tucumcari was still in business after the pandemic and all. To my great surprise, Del's was busy and booming on a Tuesday night. The hostess told me it'd be about a 30 minute wait. I knew this chicken fried steak was worth it, so I took her buzzer and we waited 10 minutes before our table was ready. The large, hand-breaded, expertly skillet-tossed CF steak met my expectations and memories. I told my wife, "It was nice to take you out for dinner in Tucumcari; now, how about I take you home and put you to bed?" I was filled and happy and ready for the road to Texas. Yet, we were only halfway home at this point, just another 7 hours to go.

I hit the automatic garage door opener attached to my visor, the door opened to welcome us home at 02:40 AM.

End Day 4: 923 Miles traveled.

Sunset Crater

Susan had spent this New Year's Day at the Grand Canyon, a memorable first for her. Despite feeling under the weather, there presented itself an opportunity to check out Sunset Crater National Monument. "I'm never too sick to investigate a volcanic crater, lava flow or cinder cone," was my traveling companion's hearty endorsement of tacking on a second, unplanned visit to a geological wonder at the start of 2025.

Our sunlight was fading fast, and we we not sure what to expect at Sunset Crater, but we were here and ready to investigate. We got a quick overview of the volcanic setting and timing of the event (about 1,000 years ago) and then parked to marvel at the grotesque forms of pumice and lava extruded about our little trail.

Susan cross a bridge into the lava field

Face-to-face with a once glowing glob of basalt - now cool. So cool!

Grotesque silhouette of Sunset Crater basalt  

A possible piece of wood encased in a lava flow?

It was getting too dark to do proper geology, but I did grab a few photos of the Sunset since I was at Sunset Crater.

It was a skip and a hop to our bed in Winslow, Arizona. Not much in the way of dining options in Winslow, as it turned out. We got some grub at the Denny's behind the Chevron station at the end of town. Called it a good day and surrendered our eyes to the sandman.

End of Day 3: Only 341 Miles traveled January 1.

Hard-Driving Days: Oregon to The Grand Canyon

It is daylight on December 31st, 2024 in Grants Pass, Oregon. 

It will be New Year's Eve - and most probably 2025 by the time I clamber out of the driver's seat in Kingman, Arizona at the end of this hard-driving day.

Susan is feeling punk. Tired, achy, very raw sore throat. She records our fuel purchase in my mileage log book in the morning before she collapses into an uneasy sleep in the passenger seat. She will sleep through most of California as we drive the long way down from Oregon to Bakersfield on I-5 before I swing east toward Arizona, our New Year's Eve's destination of rest and recovery. 

I had explained this will be a travel day filled with fascinating variety; but Susan is ill and unable to keep her heavy eyes open for hardly any of it. We leave from Southern Oregon, a moist land of towering Douglas firs, cross the snow dusted road cuts in the Cascades and end the day in a parched land of the Mojave Dessert dotted with spiney Joshua Trees.

Susan sleeps and misses the view as we cross the Cascades, up and over Siskiyou Pass into California, skirting the snowy flanks of Mt. Shasta in Weed before we roll into the Sacramento Valley, slipping between the Sierra Mountains on our left and the Coastal Range rising on our right. Susan eyes are closed as we pass by Mt. Lassen in the distance and the Marysville Buttes and the highway exit to the town of my birth. 

On a crowded I-5 corridor at the exit for Davis, Susan sleeps as a wicked piece of highway debris is cast up by a truck and into my windshield, giving me a jagged fracture in the low center portion of my view, expanding like a spider web being woven across the glass by an invisible spider, toward the driver. It seems like I go through windshields like a empath goes through Kleenex on these Washington-to-Texas and Texas-back-to-Washington road trips. 

Beyond Sacramento and Stockton, the interstate traffic thins out as I accelerate down the ribbon of highway that hugs the inner edge of the blonde Coastal Range bordering my natal San Juaquin Valley. 

Our drive through California was to be arduous, and my driving philosophy is 'miles before sustenance'. I drive, I do not stop (except for fuel). These are short winter days and we are burning daylight if I terry at any roadside attraction or pause to satisfy one's oral fixations. I need gas, not food. And drinks just make you want to stop and pee. A waste of time. Susan is sick and has no appetite, in a strange way this makes for a complementary driver/passenger duo. I cut off I-5 and take a two-lane highway into Wasco to link with 99 into Bakersfield. I am ready to make an exception, I stop at McDonald's for an afternoon $6 Meal-Deal. I give my fries and a Sprite to my passenger, French fries are known to be medicinal for my ailing wife. She feels a little better as we turn eastward over the Tehachapi Mountains and drop into the Mojave Dessert just after sunset.

It is 9 PM outside of Barstow - that means the ball is dropping in Time Square, New York, New York. We think of son Grant and his wife, Kaileen in NY, wondering what they're up to? Knowing they despise the crowds in Time Square, we expect they found a good time with friends somewhere in Brooklyn maybe. It is quite dark in the middle of the Mojave on New Year's Eve, save the oncoming headlights of the truckers out on the divided road, Susan keeps asking me, "Are we in Arizona?"

I tell her "Not until we cross over the Colorado River. We have to go through Needles before we get to Arizona." I have strategically planned to have a minimal amounts of fueling stops in California, I hate paying California prices for gasoline. I will be on less than a 1/4 of a tank when we cross into Arizona, and I will fill up 8 miles past the California state line. I never know if AZ is on Pacific or Mountain Time. We reach Kingman, AZ (surprise! It's Mountain Time, so we lost an hour and we so happen to lose midnight on New Year's Eve. Oh well. Maybe next year?)

My Google map phone app tells me we've driven 947 miles from Grants Pass, OR to Kingman, AZ toady. My odometer says its only been only 863 miles in one day. Where have the time and miles gone? We check in at 1 AM local time, our reservations are confirmed. We go to our room after a long hard day of driving and find the bed unmade sporting a half drained bottle of Prosecco and some empty paper party cups waiting for us. Unacceptable. I am tired and not happy. We return to the front desk and we are offered an "upgrade"; a fresh, made up room with 2 queen beds. I tell her, "It's not an upgrade, I had a room with 1 king bed." 

Front Desk Agent grimaces at my correction. Susan tells her, "It's fine if our room was not ready, it's nice that you have another room for us."  I disagree, but I've said all I'm going to say. The second room is nice. We sleep.

End of Day 2: 863 Miles.

Adventure List Goal #1 Accomplished!

New Year's Day, 2025
South Rim of the Grand Canyon

From our bed in Kingman, it was a 2 1/2 hours drive to the Grand Canyon. Susan, with a Masters Degree in Geology, had never been to the geologist's mecca of the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon was at the top of her Adventure List on our trip back to Texas. Yet, she was not feeling well. The weather on the South Rim was brisk, but warming into the 40's (F). Over a relatively late (8:45 AM) hotel complimentary breakfast, the question was: How are you feeling this morning? 

If you're not up to spitting over the rim into the Grand Canyon, we could drive you straight home to Texas. What do you feel like accomplishing today? 

Her first response, "I won't spit into the Canyon. What is it with boys? Why must boys spit and pee on everything?" Her second thought, "I'd like to stick with the plan, I want to see the Grand Canyon. Let's go [cough, cough].

The New Year's Day crowds were thick. We were part of the first group to be counted toward the over 5 million visitor per year. We walked along the South Rim, taking in various views across the mile-deep canyon, trying to do justice to the scene with the constraints of a camera lens.

It was already midday and our tentative plan to visit a second Arizona National Park was scuttled when we realized after consulting with a ranger that Petrified Forest NP closes at sunset. We would run out of daylight this 1st day of January. So, our plans shifted to getting a hotel in Winslow tonight and visiting Petrified Forest NP tomorrow.

But, along our way (sort of) was Sunset Volcanic Crater National Monument in the San Francisco Mountains. I had never left the South Rim by going east to Cameron, so I was up for the new road and a new sight, Sunset Crater - if we could there before sunset.

We're off on our next adventure...

My Accountant's Year's End Advice - Belle Pente Pinot Noir

 Of life's chapters, their beginnings and endings can not always be succinctly defined by the symmetry of the calendar. Beginnings and endings can be messy, sloppy, ill-defined if not subtle. 

But sometimes, the calendar does align with new life chapters. With 2024 to be history in less than 48 hours, I locked the gate to The Pilchuck behind me on a dewy, fog-drenched late December morning and pointed my wheels southward. For the sake of symmetry; This end of the 2024 calendar year coincided with the end of my solidary existence on our 50 wooded acres, building a home and the foundations for a future life in Washington. Things were going to change for me in 2025. I had packed clothes, computer, some perishables from the fridge, my wife and my daughter comfortably in my SUV as I cruised into the next subtle phase of my life, swinging like a pendulum from the Pacific Northwest to back to Texas in my transient ways of the past several years.

I had furnished my Washington home and managed the property in a series of successive iterations, approximating the place's completeness for either retirement living for the wife and I  - or to have an acceptable property for short-term rental revenue. The future is opaque to me.

As my windshield wipers swept the dew's condensation from the glass, my immediate plan was to follow through on my promise to my wife: A) If she flew up to Seattle to spend Christmas with me, B) I would then put together an overland adventure to return her to her job in Texas, including some worthy sights and experiences along the way. It was convenient to pack our daughter, Inga, along with us to bring her back to Portland after she came north via train after Christmas for a Holiday in Victoria, BC with her parents.

We left early on December 30th, made great time down I-5 and we were crossing the mighty Columbia River on the outskirts of Portland after a titch more than 3 hours of driving. It was a bit early for lunch time along funky Alberta Street in Inga's neighborhood, but some of the shops were serving, and so she marched us to Petite Provence. It was mojito French toast and a mocha for me. After lunch, we hugged her goodbye and I set the GPS coordinates for our first road trip adventure.

Now, there is many a thing to do between Arlington, Washington and Garland, Texas. The trick is to be judicious with one's desires, expectations and time. The list of 'Things to do, Places to see' was long; many we'd done and enjoyed before. Our 'Adventure List' was culled, though time in Mendocino is always treasured - it's been done. Time is limited, so we picked things that Susan had not done before.

Our Adventure List included: A) A winery tour, B) The Grand Canyon, C) Petrified Forest National Park. And lots of hard driving.

My first thought was to stay over in Mendocino and then spend a day in the nearby Wine Country of Mendocino, Sonoma and Napa Counties. Travel time dictated that we not stop in the charming sea cliff village of Mendocino, and thus we'd scratch a wine tasting from our list.

But wait! There are some fine wines being made just outside of Portland in the Willamette Valley. But which winery (there are about 700) and where should be our single worthwhile stop? Though it was the thick of Christmas Day, I texted my accountant, Mark Rice back in Dallas. I asked him for his professional advice for a winery in Oregon's Willamette Valley. He got right back to me, "Call and ask for a private tasting at the small, but well crafted vintages of Belle Pente outside Charlton, Oregon. I did as he suggested.

Susan and I had a 2:30 tasting appointment with the owner and winemaker of Belle Pente.

Susan enjoying a taste of Belle Pente Pinot Noir

  We got an good introductory lesson on the grapes, the geological soil types and climate that combine to make this area of the Willamette Valley a prime producer. We good some background stories and a taste of Chardonnay, several levels of Pinot Noir and a Pinot Gris. 

We focus on the geologic map of the Willamette Valley.
Anybody displaying a geologic map is good people and can be trusted.

I got carried away and had Brian tally up a dozen bottles of wine to make the trip back to Texas. I am looking forward to sharing them with my accounted as he balances the books of Sunstone Exploration, Inc.

We coasted down the winery's dirt farm road and wove through the twilight filtering through the orchards and fields of the valley floor as we reconnected with I-5 in Salem. 

 We had a bed waiting for us in Grants Pass. We were not too hungry and Susan was feeling the onset of a cold. We grabbed a hot tea and an appetized plate at a China Garden and called it a day.

Day 1: Arlington, WA to Grants Pass, OR. 538 Miles - This was an easy, low-mileage day.