FRED

Meet Fred the Roadrunner. He likes to hang out. We don't have anything to feed him that he eats, so I guess its just that he likes to come around to see what's going on.  Quite hilarious, the story behind this picture is that Fred has never come any closer than thirty feet. Except one time walking up to the window to peer inside when he was alone outside.  He has just spent some considerable time hanging around our little spot, mostly chasing other birds away.  Once in a while he bags a fat bug, gets excited  and dashes away at top speed to eat it, maybe a quarter mile away. Lately he has been giving me the old stink eye from atop the Bronco.  But today, he decided to make contact. Lisa was just outside the door working on paperwork  and I had just woke up from my day sleep (working nights and all).  I heard out the door "Fred what are you doing" .  "Go away Fred"  "Fred, go away".  Naturally, I said "who is Fred'?  She said isn't that what you named this bird"?  I said Whaaaat"?  Fred had walked up under her chair and was just slightly freaking Lisa out.  (Note to previous entry about the Deer).  In exasperation she ran inside the trailer.  I took this picture after she had sought shelter.  Here you can see Fred looking kind of smug and self important.  Not in a million years did I think Roadrunners were this cool.  Either that or Lisa is related to Dr. Doolittle.  Whatever.

Thoughts for the day

Wow, who knew how harsh the summer conditions in South Texas really were.  Where we are the temperature routinely reads between 104 and 107 in the middle of the day.  Hell, last night after the sun went down it still read 101.  According to the TV, San Antonio tied the record at 104.  The all time record there is 106. The other day while doing some errands in Corizzo Springs the temperature gauge in the Explorer said 117 and didn't even start to come down until I was several miles out of town.  People walking around like it was nothing.  Naturally we would be here in record breaking heat.  A lot of the time we are seeking shelter in the trailer and dash out from time to time.  We have been hit pretty hard a few times during the day and sometimes are out in it for several hours checking vehicles. I would stroke out if I couldn't keep pouring water over my head and neck. Nothing like it that I have experienced before.  Even hotter than a motorcycle ride I took through central California one year.  I guess heat stroke has been a problem at the rig as well. That and the dust is incredibly debilitating.  The good news though is all our equipment is working flawless. Power is provided by a Diesel Generator. Dometic refridge is keeping things ice cold in the fridge part and freezing water overhead.  Our AC which is running 24/7 I would guess keeps our little trailer at about 75 or a little above.  I think that is better than many other folks probably due to the size of our trailer.  That is the one thing that could sabotage us if it went out. Were shooting for seven months.   Starting the 4th week and only one mouse so far.  No snakes and I have killed a half a dozen scorpions and a centipede or two.  None in the trailer. Still leery wandering outside in the dark though.  We spread mothballs under the trailer supposed to keep them out. No such thing as a cold shower as the water sits in an outside tank and is barely endurable due to the temp.  We thought we would be more into cooking but we just eat simple stuff.  Either too hot or too tired to cook.  

A lot of young guys working here who address you as sir and Lisa as ma'am.  BBQ is catered from time to time and several times a plate has been brought out to us.  Lisa in particular seems to get quite a few gifts. 12 packs of pop, bags of cookies etc. People stop when leaving and ask if there is anything we need from the store and sometimes take our garbage.  Couple of whiffle balls we have to deal with, but I'll comment on that later.  Folks out here seem a lot nicer than where I come from.  

This afternoon an illegal was discovered dead of exposure about 200 yards from a gate guard station a couple of miles from here. Originally the story went around that it was foul play and a Machete was involved. That was later debunked.  Poor guy. That settles it in my mind.  There is no way I would deprive anybody of water and we have a cooler outside in the event we are approached.  The problem is then they want to borrow your phone, have you give them a ride etc and want to pay with some pretty hefty cash that rumor has more than one gate guard has succumbed.  Huge federal offense with mandatory time I am sure.   A friend dealt with an MS 13 member recently. Reminds you they are not all harmless.  I'll give em water.  Cheese and crackers are mine though.  Then I would call Border Patrol.

We barely have a phone and scabbed onto an air card a few days ago. In between the dings when I am summoned outside to check in a vehicle,  I have spent some midnight hours reading some highly entertaining and not just a little inspirational blogs of  some well lived crusty old guys with some awesome skill with the prose.  I don't want to blaspheme but it's almost cowboy poetic.  My first pick is    
http://www.myoldrv.com/ 
and
http://thefatguy.com/
I don't think they would mind I advertised them here.

Rig on Fire

Here is a video of a Rig on fire I would guess about twenty five miles to the SE of us.  Notice the rig on the right how they are lit up like Christmas trees.  I have been watching it about a half hour now.  Who knows how long it has been going.  Night time sky is really lit up here right now.  Sorry for the poor resolution.  Have to invest in a more expensive camera.

Also, a company guy working here just returned showing some pretty spectacular photos of this incident.  Wonder if it will ever make the News.

And then Monday came.....

No pictures today, just some quiet reflection at 2 AM as I try to simultaneously stay awake and somehow rest my body for tomorrow (which means repair my body by means of a predetermined 3 digit number of the Ibuprofen tablets I will have taken by morning).  Today we learned that the humble occupation of an Oilfield gate guard, a job that is most often preferred by senior citizens to make a few bucks to supplement their snowbird fun, whatever that is, is not a job for wussies.  It is a job for MEN.  Or, manly WOMEN.  Today, frankly we had our butts kicked with non stop  semi trucks coming through our gates starting at about 7AM and continuing a good twelve hours before starting to slow down around 7 PM. Nearly 400 in all and very little time to have a break let alone go to the bathroom.  This was reportedly gravel for a base for a new oil rig.  Despite the best efforts of the water truck,  the dust continued to fly until it was caked on our clothes, face, everything.  A Gates ranch hand who arrived on the scene cheerfully let us know that the temp about 40 miles away was 112, but that we should be fine at 104. What his exterior temp dash gauge was currently showing.   That was roughly 6PM.  In the midst of this while trying to do our jobs we, or more accurately, Lisa found that most of the driver's though polite and willing to please, when asked, were unable to communicate their respective names through the noise of the Diesels. Many of them had hispanic names.  Why? Because  this is South Texas and many folks around here have hispanic origins duh.  Again, why do I mention this? because frankly hispanic names are, well, tougher to spell and tougher to communicate around noisy diesel trucks.   This was my experience,   "What?  "Goo Arrrow" he'd say.  First name I asked?   "That is my first name"  "How do you spell it?" "HERNANDEZ," " What?"  Or,  "my name is "HORE HAY".  How do you spell that ?  "JORGE"  "That spells "George", I thought you said your name was  "HORE HAY" .  You get the drift and these guys to their credit were polite and never once rolled their eyes as I would have once done.  This is however, a very simplified explanation of the problem.  So, like I said, by the time I got out into the melee, Lisa had them all trained to immediately produce Drivers Licenses.  Did I say I got my butt kicked, I did, working the last five hours of it.  Lisa on the other hand stood in the middle of the road very nearly a full twelve hours with long lines of vehicles both in front of her and behind.  She was directing traffic, cussing drivers and dodging semi's long before I rolled out of bed at about 3ish. This was after a tough graveyard shift wherein I signed in 2 trucks and basically surfed the Internet all night.  Alright I also killed a few spiders and shared a lot of my opinions with the security guy.   But that's the thing about my wife.  She walks into any situation and the cogs in her head start spinning and she just figures the most efficient means to accomplish the task at hand and has little patience for anybody not part of the plan.  She is amazing at this and in her previous careers, she has been quite intimidating to co workers.  Really, you would have to see this wonderful talent in action.  And that is why when I entered the melee this afternoon, normally ornery oilfield truck drivers were politely producing a drivers license, I mean over a hundred of them, over and over again every time they came through the gate in order to help me spell their names correctly.  Fat chance that happened with me at the clip board and my near perfectly bad hearing..  "jorge" is probably still "Hore Hay" but hey.  I can still admire the process.  She had them in lock step and what can I say, it was awesome. Thank God she was there and we got through the day.  I can only imagine what today would have looked like had she not been here.  Really quite scary.  Or more like me screaming like a little girl, shaking my fist at drivers, dropping papers everywhere, suffering a full on mental breakdown and finally hooking up the travel trailer and peeling gravel leaving. Full on humiliation.  And because that did not happen folks, is one of the thousands of reasons  why I love and can't live without her.  Hope it is back to a more normal controlled chaos tomorrow.  Time for more Ibuprofen.  Maybe tomorrow I will get a pic of the roadrunner that comes right up to the door to see what is going on.  They really are the coolest critters.....

Were not in Kansas anymore

 

This Google Earth map shows a little detail of our current location.

 The yellow Pin to the right is our current gate assignment.  To the North of us is a small dusty, mostly oil town of Catarina, Texas.  It is just about eleven miles away.  To the South of us, probably I would guess between 20 and 25 miles is the Mexican border which of course is denoted by the Rio Grande.   Life here is defined by the numerous illegals that make their way through this area. It is a brutal hike by those attempting to get into the United States.  When they get to this point most are dehydrated, exhausted and some need medical attention.  According to a ranch hand trash is abundant through the area of abandoned backpacks, clothes and other items.  We have picked some of that up ourselves.  Some can be seen just walking along the side of the road.  Ostensibly giving up and wanting to get picked up.  Daily accounts in local newspapers of bodies being recovered in the border river or ICE officers arresting smugglers attempting to cross the border into the US with various amounts of drugs. No secret but many other nationalities from around the world also attempting to cross the border. This was recently reported following large trucks stopped in Mexico containing up to several hundred people from all over the world who had spent thousands of dollars for passage.  Speculation that a possible new immigration law is producing a surge in illegal immigration.   The US Border Patrol  trying to keep a leg up on this problem. Twice this past week illegal activity has disrupted our operation at the gate.  BP officers in their green uniforms come through our gate daily and ask us if we have seen anybody..  Lisa and I talk with the roughnecks that work here and true or not, almost everybody has a story or stories describing some experience.  I can't vouch if the stories are true but on the gut level you know they are.  Some describe seeing smugglers with guns and backpacks. Other stories involving innocents forced to become mules under threat of death to themselve's or their families.  I am being a whole lot less graphic than the actual incidents that were told to us.   Other than the gate disruptions, our experience has only been mischief.  They disconnected our water supply which allowed half to drain out in order to fill a couple of bottles.  Lisa described them as a young couple who were picked up by the Border Patrol a few miles later.
  
Hell, we've only been here two weeks.

Speaking of Catarina, this is mostly just a dusty oil town that once had an interesting past.  Here is a cool link to a slide show of the Palms motel that has long since been abandoned located in Catarina. 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/matthigh/3039749253/in/photostream/lightbox/

And another:  http://www.photoblog.com/bcofer/2013/03/26/

And for the heck of it, a great little restaurant featured in Dives Drive ins and Diner's in Austin.  I can talk about it because it's my Blog.

                               Toodles

In December of last year Carl and Loris had a BBQ and invited several folks related to myself that I have not seen for probably the better part of thirty years.  It was an excellent day and my apologies for not getting this out earlier.  The Northern half of the family to my knowledge have not had much contact either.  Talk about a hoot. In any case this is for that half of the family.  Ok, maybe both halves.

Jared

Darcy and Carly

Jared again

                                                              Andrew and Ava

                                                                      Sylvia and Lisa

                                                                           Elliam

                                                          Andrew and Elijah

                                                                  Carl and Loris

                                                             Myself and Sylvia

                                         
                  Andrew, Marcella and Ava

Back Row: Andrew, Carl, Carly  Darcy, Sylvia, Loris Jarrod, Sana, William, Mike, Lisa Jared

Front Row: Anna, Camryn, Ava, Marcella and Elliam.  Hopefully but not necessarily in that order.

Sana, William Darcy and Loris

                        Sana and Darcy
The Old Guy.  And in that vein, cut the old guy a break if I made any mistakes here.  As well, I would also be glad to rectify that mistake. Thanks go out to the Henderson Clan.  Thank you so very much for the reunion and the hospitality.

Briscoe EF

Two weeks in to this Gate Guarding thing and I am still digesting what it is we have gotten ourselves in to.  Make no mistake, we are earning some decent change.  Let me just say we are experiencing a little culture shock.  Located on the Briscoe Ranch deep in the Oil Patch on one of the largest Ranches in the US.  It is July and I glanced at the thermometer this afternoon and seriously was not shocked to see it at 110.  Lisa works a 12 hour day and I am the 12 hour night guy.  Neither one of us would change if we had our druthers.   Our little trailer has been holding up to the conditions thus far with the AC blowing 24/7 and the little Dometic fridge holding out. Though I doubt it gets much lower than fifty degrees.  We are also very close to the Mexican border in an area of high illegal alien activity.  That is also the subject of another day.   (the ones on earth not the other that was the subject of another blog entry)  After two weeks we finally picked up an Internet air card.  (four days without even a phone) and I discovered a few things I deemed blogworthy.

I was not even aware the above video existed until I transferred the files off the camera.  I just knew Lisa, who gets up a lot earlier than I do had been complaining that a deer, apparently enjoying the same early hours had been acting kind of aggressively towards her while she was enjoying her first coffee and smoke of the morning. Lisa, not the Deer.   Stomping, snorting prancing and advancing. This had been going on for several mornings and Lisa, being who she is, was taking this quite personally and wondering what exactly she was doing to cause this..  I just didn't know she had made this video.

This next picture was taken the first day after arriving at the Briscoe ranch outside Catarina, Texas.  We had just erected our ten by ten awning with bug screen walls.  It works.

I was first thinking about asking Lisa to pose next to this, obviously being safely behind the screen shouldn't be a big deal right?  Then thought better of it.  Then I thought photoshopping her next to it.  Then thought better of that too. Notice the bug next to it for perspective. 

Like I said, I get the night shift.  The past several mornings this guy likes to show up outside where we are camped.  Obviously not to beg for food because his diet is nothing like ours, but maybe finding some water. I dunno.   Either way he seems to like hanging out with us for awhile each morning.  He also does this kind of dance. I think it is a his way of showing respect.  Really.  Actually, I am not the only person who enjoys the roadrunner.  The riggers coming through have their own stories about these guys.

And finally this is a little video also made by Lisa of an authentic Texas downpour.  A little hard to tell that it was quite literally raining buckets.  I had to get out of our vehicle and move about six feet to shelter.  I  was soaked in that time.   What would really be cool is showing a video of an authentic Texas thunderstorm.  Now those things are epic.

Well, we also picked up a mouse as a result of a blowout.

Because this is what happens

Meanwhile, back at the Gate Lisa is earning our bread and butter.  Did I mention it was only 106?

So I can do this at Night

Which now makes me think of this again

And that is how I spent my day....  So what did you expect?  Another sloooowwww day in the Oil Fields.  

2:15 AM.  Beer.  Im kinda missing Beer right now.