Never Sell Your Rack

[JayB]

"Never sell your rack."

 

Sage words I remember reading in a magazine quite a while ago.

 

After I removed the cover from the basement floor drain, I sized up the diameter of the pipe, grabbed a plug that looked to be the right size, and set about putting it in place - only to be stymied by the posts that accept the screws which hold the drain-cover in place. They were set right alongside the opening, and since the plug-top was designed to extend a bit beyond the edge of the pipe, the position of the posts made it impossible to insert the plug.

 

Thankfully the drain was made of PVC - so all it would take was a bit of work with a chisel to trim away enough of the screw-posts to allow the plug to fit. Only problem - no chisel. I flailed away with a box cutter for a bit, with no success. Baby Ellie was crying upstairs, and I could see the menacing glint from an unspeakably foul, fulminating infinity of sewage lurking just below the top of the drain. Biding its time, waiting for an opportune moment to pour forth and befoul every inch of the basement. The two gallons that had gurgled up and seeped across the floor, inching their way across the floor towards the tubs holding the down sleeping bags had been more than enough to cement a vision of what a basement full of locally sourced, 100% organic caca flowing into the basement would mean. The plug had to go in. Now. But - crying baby, no chisel, no dice.

 

After a bit of desperate scanning of the basement's contents I glanced from one wall to the next until my eye roamed across the pegboard laden with a few thousand dollars worth of gear that had been laying fallow since last July. Cams, nuts, slings, screws, tools. None of it seemed to be of any use whatsoever until I saw the hook in the far-right corner bearing the rack of pitons. They'd been my own equivalent of Seal Team Six. Seldom deployed, but always there in a pinch. Satan's Sidewalk on the North Face of Shuksan with Eric in 2004. Damnation Gully with Al in 2008 as the light was fading, the snow was moving in, and the wind was bearing down. Humble attainments at best - but memorable enough to make their mark in my own mind.

 

Their tour of duty wasn't over just yet. The No.1 knifeblade. The file from the ski-tuning tub. Bingo. One minute of tuning with the file and the leading edge was Ginsu sharp. Two blows with the hammer and the path was clear, the plug was in and ready to vanquish the fathomless hydraulic menace looming just below.

 

Never sell your rack.

[Tyson.g]

Totally.

Nicely done.

[olyclimber]

It sounds to me like you murdered the impossible.

 

But in all seriousness, ingenuity is the best form of creativity. Good for you, and if you want I hope you find other uses for that rack closer to the original intended purposes like you once did. I'm in the same boat, but much further along...the crying baby is now 10 and every moment I'm not working it seems like I'm driving him from one thing to the next.

 

 

 

[Off_White]

Well done! Any well rounded fanatic never gives up their tools, because, well, you never know. I've been happy to have a knifeblade combined with a lug wrench to open a can of tuna after an extended Rainier epic.

[Bronco]

Nice job Jay, remind me never to loan you my good chisels.

[glassgowkiss]

#9 tricam on a sling would make a mighty nice weapon for a bar fight.

[ZimZam]

Nice send.

[Crux]

So the lesson is--- include a chisel on your rack?