Don't mention it.

The bumper sticker that had obviously resided across the back of the rusty Honda for some time read "I'm a Vermonta, I do what I wanta."

Originally, it called to mind all of the other classic Vermont sayings. "You can't get there from here." "Go right up the road a ways... you can't miss it." And the like. But this one was different. It called to mind the individuality and independent nature of Vermonters. We might just be the most stubborn state in the union.

We really do what we want to. We saw a need, and passed first-in-the-nation same-sex spousal benefits. When Governor Davis saw the clutter and trash lining Vermont's roadways back in the 70s, he shut down the interstate and motivated the entire state to clean itself.

Vermonters way back in history have really done what they wanted too. We were not one of the thirteen original colonies, we were still making up our minds at the time. Most folks don't know it, but Vermont is one of two or three states that was at one time its own country. The Republic of Vermont was a short-lived, but important part of the state's history of independent-mindedness. For more information, a trip to Windsor, Vermont, would be in order.

That independent nature really shows its head in the little things. A recent trip to the lake with a friend on his new-to-him $500 speedboat shows it well.

Of course, the boat started when he first tried it, but then it sputtered and wouldn't start again. The boat's battery was dead, and getting a jump start on the water is a bit more difficult than in the Wal-Mart parking lot. So, while his first mate made a run for a second (hopefully fully-charged) battery, he was left literally holding the boat alongside the dock, hoping to not be in the way as others used the boat launch.

The first mate's trip was only fifteen minutes or so, but that left a lot of comings and goings at the boat launch. Everyone who passed by was concerned. One couple coming in off the water loaned a spare battery and the boat came alive again. He ran it for a minute to charge the first battery, and gave it back.

"Don't mention it," they said. "We've been there before. That is why we carry a spare battery."

A concerned husband and father was milling about, waiting for his wife and kids to get back on their maiden voyage around the lake in a new paddleboat. A friendly conversation sprang up which led to an offer to go out on the powerboat and have a look around the lake, once the first mate got back.

Now, no one would suggest that a new boater on his first time out in a new (and very used) boat would be the best candidate for a rescue mission after a paddleboat, at dusk. But, we were testing the motorboat anyway, and keeping an eye out for the yellow boat was not too much trouble. We saw them at dusk, still quite some ways from the boat dock. They were tired, but still moving.

We exchanged messages and tried to tow the little boat, but ended up pulling it sideways and almost swamping it. It was tense there for a minute, but we untied in time and everyone was still right side up. The little boat paddled to a landing nearby, and we continued on our way, making one last trip around the lake testing the steering and pumps.

By the time the motorboat pulled up to the boat launch, the family was safely ashore and they stopped by to say thanks. We didn't even recognize the boaters without their life jackets, and were caught off-guard when they approached us. We were busy trying to get the boat situated on the trailer and out of the water in the dark. For us, I think the chance to help had been a failure.We almost swamped their little craft and they ended up paddling in themselves. For the boaters, however, we must have seemed like a lifeline, with lights and a motor as the sun was going down.

As we were tying the boat down safely on the trailer before heading home, a teenage boy in a too-cool-for-me ball cap abruptly called out, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," we said, hardly looking up from our work. It wasn't until later that it really sunk in. For him to come up to total strangers like that really speaks volumes. We were only doing what any Vermonter would have. We were just doing our part. That night, it made a difference.

Summer in the Springtime

Spring is here in Vermont, but it sure does feel like summer. Temperatures in the 90s do a lot to get folks outside and enjoying the Vermont landscape.

A trip to get creemees after dinner really drove the point home. Of course, we were not the only ones with that plan in mind. I decided to drive the (recently through rehab) Willys Jeep down with the family in tow. Driving with the top off really was the only way to stay comfortable int he car without AC.

I wasn't the only one with that idea either. In the village, while we were struggling to catch ice cream drips before they hit my son's shirt, we witnessed one of the better things that comes back with the warm weather.

It seems like everywhere we looked, we saw motorcycles, convertibles, and classic cars out enjoying the warm weather. I talked for a few minutes with a fellow who had just bought his wife's uncle's 1970 Cutlass Supreme. It was a beautiful orange convertible with a 350 and like-original whitewalls. It still purred through its untouched mufflers; none of the growl I would have added to turn heads in town.

The car was a sight. It had white leather upholstery and brown carpet on the lower half of the doors. The owner had it out to take the kids to the creemee stand, just like us.

This time of year really makes living through the long, cold winter worthwhile. Vermonters can enjoy the outdoors, although slathered in bug spray to ward off the black flies, once again. We come out to plant our gardens. Some of us come out again to re-plant out gardens which were killed by the late snowfall last month. We come out to recreate, perhaps bringing a picnic to the park. We come out to swim, though the water is still a bit cold for my tastes. Most of all, we come out to be with those we love. Adding the summer cars to the mix just makes it that much better.

Cars with character

Different cars have different purposes. That is the way it is supposed to be. Carmakers acknowledge it. That is why we are not all riding around in sedans. They make minivans for families, compact cars for the economy crowd, pickups for working. Each has its place.

In our household, we have taken it to another level. Sure, each of our cars is capable of carrying the whole family (thought the dog might be a tough squeeze in the old Willys Jeep). We have the family car for long trips and the pickup for odd jobs. But we also have another spot in our auto needs filled as well. The old car.

The old car is just as important as the others. It might not shine so much as the new. It might be slower, or less fuel efficient, but it is needed just the same. The old car is the one that we use when it might get a scratch on it. We use the old car when the job is sure to be dirty, when we wouldn't think of driving something we are still making payments on.

In our family the old car is my Jeep Cherokee. It is a '92, and it had lived a good life long before I bought it. Now on its second engine, it has few panels that are not straight. They still all match, mind you, but they have dimples and scrapes. Some people might look upon the dents as blemishes, but to me, they are scars, that each come with their own story. Those stories make the Jeep special.

Take the dent in the driver's door. Apparently, a family from Massachusetts sent the Jeep north with their child to school at Johnson State. They blew a motor on a quiet Vermont road, and took out their anger on the Jeep while waiting for the tow truck.  That is no problem. I popped it out as best I could when I bought the Jeep (non-running for $100). Good came from that dent.

The Jeep has a mismatched headlight bezel on the left side. That came after my friend's bachelor party. We all had a good time that night, and the Jeep earned its nickname, "Lefty." The passenger's front fender has a dent from where I tapped a mean tree off-roading last year. I replaced the rockers after they dented the same way.

When I look at my Jeep Cherokee, I see dozens of fond memories in the scratches and dents. I enjoy driving it; using it; and I will enjoy denting it further. I enjoy talking to people about it in parking lots and at gas stations. It is not a beautiful thing to many people's eyes. They might need for their cars to shine, or at least not be crumpled.

I can understand it. I have a friend who has given me straight fenders for it that I refuse to put on. He spent a lot of time making his Jeep shine: fresh paint, new parts. He does preventative maintenance. I drive mine like it is stolen. It is a lot more fun from where I am sitting.

I have half-bald mud tires and refuse to buy new ones until these run out completely. I have a leaky windshield that makes it a bit musty after it rains. Fix it? Why? Chances are that I will meet a low-hanging tree branch some day. It will probably happen the day after I replace it. So what do I do? I cut out the carpets so water will drain out on its own. No musty odor, problem solved.

A friend of mine who used immigrant labor when he built his house taught me the Mexican saying S-O-C-K-S (You have to say each letter out if you ever want to use it for real). "It is, what it is," the saying goes. That is how I look at my '92 Cherokee. It is, what it is. It is old and dented, so I drive it like it is old and dented. It is freeing to drive it. I don't really worry about it much, as long as it starts and runs when I want it to. If you own an old car, you know what I mean.

Everything is not disposable

We live in a disposable culture. It is often more cost effective to throw away the old than repair it. I can remember a story I heard about a $20 printer that took $80 ink cartridges. You got a set when you bought the machine new, so buying ink was more expensive than buying a whole new machine.The guy bought four printers and sent them to the landfill when they ran out of ink. It is ridiculous.

These days the Maytag repairman is not out of work because the machines are so reliable, it is because nobody is willing to pay for the $90 house call when a new machine is only $40 more. It was not always this way. It used to be that people kept stuff running for more than a year or two. Then, if it started acting up, they fixed it. That kept repairmen in business, and helped the local economy. Isn't that a movement today?

Take my old Willys Jeep for instance. It is a perfect example of the durability of yesteryear. I needed to tune it up and get it running right for the season. I looked through the Universal Jeep Service Manual and discovered with glee that I could do the entire job without buying a thing. Engine oil and spark plugs aside, nothing is discarded. Finally, something that was built to be serviced.

It is a far throw from modern vehicles. Recently, to get a Ford truck back up to par, I saw the grimace on the owner's face when he paid a $350 bill for just one engine sensor. Sure it is a diesel, and sure, the new truck might be easier to drive most of the time than my old Willys, but that convenience sure comes with a price.

The Ford was more than ten times the original purchase price of the Universal Jeep. And replacing that one sensor, even today, costs as much as an entire new suspension on the Jeep. Admittedly, it would take ten CJs to equal the pulling power of the Ford, but that is besides the point.

I have owned my old Jeep for five years now. Over that time I have done a frame-off renovation (I call it a renovation because I am not restoring it to original form, and I am upgrading to more modern pieces where it is possible.) I have been amazed how much easier it has been to work on than modern vehicles, including other Jeeps in my fleet.

I might have broken off ten bolt heads in the work on my Jeep over the years. Ten bolts total. That is unheard of by modern terms. These days, just replacing a wheel bearing, you are sure to break at least one. Have you ever tried to do exhaust work? Imagine the count if you replaced the whole suspension. Add to that the number if you removed the body... (For you non-mechanics, we are well into the POUNDS of broken bolt bits by now. You might as well save them for scrap steel and make a buck.) It is crazy.

It was a different time. Parts back then were made to be fixed, not replaced. Gaskets and wires were hand cut, not bought pre-made. If the engine was running rough, you tuned it by ear, or with a timing light, not by plugging in a code reader.It did require more of a sixth sense to work on, but the old Jeep has stood the test of time, and certainly not left a trail of burnt sensors and throwaway parts in its wake.

The old Jeep is sixty five this year. That is old enough for social security. People don't hold up as well as it has. But, it is easier to replace parts on a Jeep.

Firewood basics for the do-it-your-selfer

Is it strange that on the first sunny week of springtime,  many Vermonters are already thinking about winter?
After the long cold winter the woodpile  in many homes looks like a shadow of its former self, and many do-it-yourself Vermonters have already begun working to replenish it.

The cost of heating a home has been on the rise, and according to the USDA Forest Products Laboratory, seasoned firewood is the least expensive fuel source, with natural gas, and wood pellets close behind. The only problem is that heating a home with wood requires a bit more work. That work carries on all year.

Typically, trees are cut in the fall, and they lay in log length over the winter. In the spring, as the snow cover recedes, Vermonters will take to the forests on frosty mornings, when their tractors or trucks won't do as much damage in the fragile environment. Then the fun begins.

Logs began drying when they were cut last fall. As the birds come back to Vermont, those logs need to be chunked up and split to fully cure before next winter. The extra steps in the spring make sure that the logs don't rot on the ground, and that when they are burned the most BTUs can come out of the woodstove.

Before you get to work, you should have a couple things in mind.

1) Make sure your chainsaw is running well. Nobody wants to get out into the middle of nowhere and then figure out that his chainsaw won't run. Before you leave, fill it with new gas, and runit for a few minutes at home.

2) Take a look at your blade. Whenever running a chainsaw, in addition to eye and ear protection, you should have your saw's T tool and a file with you. A screwdriver and wrench can replace the tool, but nothing in the woods will sharpen a dull blade. Use the file correctly, pushing its teeth into the semicircular cut on the blade.

 Match the number of strokes for each tooth. If you favor one direction or the other, the saw will cut diagonally.

3) Know what you want to get out of it. When you approach your logs, you need to know how long each piece of firewood needs to be to fit in your particular fireplace. Do they need to be 16 inches? Would 18s or 20s work? Use the length of the chainsaw's blade for reference. Most are in the right ballpark.

4) Plan your attack. Are you right handed, or left? it might make a difference on which end of the woodpile you begin your cutting. Righties, for instance, work better moving to the left after each cut. That way, the chunked log falls off away fromthe saw's housing.

5) Work in sections. There is nothing worse than cutting a log, then tripping over it all afternoon. The best way to work is in sections. Cut a bit, pile some up in an out of the way place for the splitter, then go back and cut more. When working with powertools, (especially those used in horror movies) sure footing is essential. You don't want anything taking your attention away from that saw in action.

The old saying goes, "Firewood warms you twice, once when you stack it, then again when you burn it." For do-it-your-selfers, firewood might warm a few more times than that.

Rust is a Funny Thing

I was looking through craigslist postings for an engine donor for my old Jeep. I was amazed at what people want for cars these days.

One post I saw wanted more than $2000 for a 93 GMC Jimmy 2wd!

Sure, it may be a southern car, but no serious Vermonter would want to pay that for it.
The problem with southern cars is that they were initially sold in the south. Frankly, car companies deliver different vehicles to different areas of the country. The south gets no factory rustproofing. No amount of 'Rubberized Undercoating' can make up for bare metal inside the cavities of a southern car.
Let me give you an idea. I moved to Vermont in 2000. in anticipation of the move, I bought a Jeep Cherokee 4x4. When I bought it, the flatlander dealership thought I was nuts. The state did not see snow - ever - and the only thing they could think of was that i would turn it into a "mudder". I bought it nonetheless, and promptly moved to Vermont.

I hardly drove it. at age four, it only had 45,000 miles on it. I lived near to Newton's Car Wash in Burlington at the time, and washed it every week, summer and winter alike. I sprayed on the rubberized undercoating fromthe hardware store, and did everything else that I could to try and keep the rust at bay. I was good.
Today, if you look under that truck next to another Jeep of similar age and experience, it is like night and day. The rust got it where the tow bar kept moisture, the rust got it when the cold nights forced condensation inside the unprotected framerails. It is practically falling apart.

Back to the craigslist posting. In Vermont, that bluebook value goes right out the window. It doesn't matter how many miles, or where a car was from. Unless it is never driven, a southern car will succumb to Vermont's red scourge within four years. I guarantee it. The fact that that Jimmy was 2wd rather than 4wd is even more of a reason that its owners will be disappointed when it does not sell. Somebody they work with, or a neighbor needs to explain it to the owner. Kelly BlueBook is not accurate in the Green Mountain State.

As a matter-of-fact, someone should publish a GreenBook for Vermonters. I can see it now. the book would have listings based on real market value here. A 97 Hyundai would be accurately listed for $450 with the words "Winter Beater" next to it. A 1993 GMC Jimmy 2wd (Southern Car) would list an accurate $750 and the phrase "solid engine, many parts."