The Trades--Real America

I am a guy who enjoys doing home repair. It isn't so much that I'm cheap (well, I guess that is arguable), but I just like doing stuff myself. Along with that, I also like building projects, which forces me to use my horrible math skills (I use this word loosely) and arcane construction knowledge.

Recently, I constructed a small shed that I am particularly proud of, despite my friends referring to it as an "outhouse." It serves its purpose, which is storage of a few yard maintenance tools like my mower and weed eater, as well as several other smaller implements. Cathy named my shed Aengus the Strong after my friends ragged me for its tiny construction. To them I say, "Build it and they shall come!"

Another project that I have undertaken is the construction of a lean-to on a different shed. I realized the numerous mistakes I made along the way, including a lack of support features due to its size. Friends and family warned that it would sag in the middle, and after some pride swallowing and consideration, I realized how right they were. As such, I have modified the lean-to in order to include some additional supports to keep it from becoming a punching bag by those I consider "friends."

The purpose of this particular entry is not to espouse my spectacular knowledge of shed and lean-to construction, nor is it an effort to offer up self-congratulations each time I change out an electrical outlet, repair a leak, or change out a wax ring under a toilet (one ring to bind them). Sorry for my Tolkien reference--I do that often.

My point in penning this short post is to say that I have much respect for those people in the "trades." The construction workers, the electricians, the plumbers, the concrete finishers, block layers, etc. The masters of these tradecrafts have my undying respect and gratitude. I stand in envy of your abilities and creativity and think they are oftentimes overlooked in America for their contributions.

We like to award trophies and awards to architects for designing buildings, but rarely congratulate the people who actually laid the foundation and built the tower. These guys and gals are the ones who should be celebrated. They realize the faults in design and bring solutions. Those in the trades bring dreams to life.

The next time you encounter someone masterfully skilled in the trades, I suggest telling them how much you appreciate them. They are the reason you have a roof over your head and the ability to power up you laptop or phone. Yes, these builders are America and we should let them know how great they are.

Some Time on the Mountain

For about three years of my life, I would venture to the top of the highest point in Alabama, Mount Cheaha, and navigate over the numerous trails. I would take my children there and let them enjoy nature as well; we all loved hiking that mountain. Fast forward twelve years, my kids are grown and either living in different states or are moving on with their lives. I couldn't be happier for them, but I lack hiking partners now.


That said, a buddy of mine has told me he wants to hike Mt. Cheaha this coming weekend, so I plan on grabbing a stick, packing a bag, wrapping my knees and hitting the Pinhoti trail for the first time in years. To say I love that place is an understatement of sorts. Heck, the protagonist in my novels lives just at the mountain's base, where he hunts and fishes when he isn't gallivanting around the world, meeting interesting people then killing them.




High atop Bald Rock on Mount Cheaha

The history and mystery of Cheaha is steeped in Native American lore. Specifically, the Muskogee and Cherokee occupied the lands around the mountain before Europeans settled the U.S. Many believe the mountain to hold a sacred power. Some say you can feel a strange vibration while you walk the trails of Cheaha. And others, still, claim the mountain is haunted by Natives of ages past.

Perhaps all these things are true, or maybe they aren't, but my head resides in the realm of the magical and possibilities found in ancient tales. No matter, I am hoping for fair weather as we traipse across and around the rim of Mt. Cheaha that usually takes several hours to complete. Eventually, I would love to continue my trek across the Pinhoti and on up to the southern point of the Appalachian Trail, where I would love to hike and camp to Klingman's Dome in Northeast Tennessee. We shall see if that happens.

Maybe, just maybe I will catch a glimpse of Bill Evers's house when we finally turn north and round the western face of the mountain. I am hoping to look down into the Coosa River basin to see small creeks filled from waters running off Cheaha. And most certainly, I will post photos from our voyage.