Linehand

1
Tryouts

Emil Groenig was the Superintendent, but most just referred to him as "Super." One Monday morning, Super came into the gathering room and made an announcement. "Today we're having tryouts," his gruff voice rose above the din. "All you helpers can try out if you want. Mecham lost his lineman and whoever can climb a pole best will get a new job." Super then held up a lineman's climbers and belt and said, "Let's go out back."

The Irrigation District had an electric power line that wandered around the county serving the motorized head gates in the canals, as well as the ditchriders' homes, and it snaked up the canyon to the dam. Glade Elliott knew nothing about it, but the line was a twenty-four hundred-volt, three-phase delta system constructed some twenty years earlier when the Irrigation District was new.

In the equipment yard were six poles with lights, standing about thirty feet out of the ground with wires strung between them.

"Who's first?" Super blared out.

Mike Rawlings looked up at the poles. "What am I supposed to do?" he inquired.

"Just put these tools on and climb this pole." Super instructed. "Whoever does the best gets the job. Simple as that."

Then Mike asked what all the men really wanted to know. "What does this lineman job pay?"

"Buck fifty, and travel on the clock," Super answered.

Wow. Helpers only got seventy-five cents and travel one way on the clock. That was more than double. That made it interesting.

Mike jumped in first, but had difficulty figuring how to put the climbers on. He put them on backward with the spikes on the outside of his feet. Finally, he got them on just right and bellied up to the pole. The young man put the strap around the pole and adjusted it in, not wishing to be very far from the pole. Mike jabbed a spike into the wood and stood on that climber. Jabbing in the other just a little higher, he tried to hitch the belt up. Just one foot off the ground his spikes cut out, and the next thing he knew, Mike was picking splinters from his arms.

"Next!" Super bellowed.

There were seventeen helpers in all, but six decided not to try. Eldon Moench did pretty well, leaning back from the pole and climbing cautiously upward. Not bad. When he reached the light fixture Super told him "Okay, come on down." That was it for Eldon. He couldn't figure how to get down. They had to get a tractor with a lift and go get him.

Glade Elliott watched everything intently. When the ninth helper had finished his try, Glade stepped forward. "I'll give it a shot if that's okay"

Super nodded and Glade strapped on the climbers. Having watched the others before him, he had no difficulty getting them on right. When he put on the belt, he let the strap out. Glade could see that the climber needed to keep his body and hips back a little bit so the spurs went in at an angle toward the center of the pole. Stabbing the spurs in Glade leaned back and walked cautiously, but rapidly, upward. Once he reached the light fixture, he asked Super, "Anything you want done up here?

"You want us to get the tractor?" Super asked.

Glade ignored the remark, commencing a steady descent, walking down the pole and unbuckling the safety strap at the bottom

"Who's next?" Super asked.

No one answered. They just turned and walked back inside.

Mecham, the ancient Line Foreman, approached Glade. "You'll do just fine son. I watched you size up the job, let others make mistakes and learn from them, then move in with caution and confidence. That's what you'll need. This work's dangerous. One mistake and you're fried. A miss-step and you fall. Just keep your head screwed on straight and learn."

"Thanks," Glade replied. "Guess you know I've got it all to learn. You've seen everything I've got to show." Glade felt his life had just taken an interesting turn. A new era had just commenced that would lead him to an exciting life.

Work at the Irrigation District, or the "ID" as the men called it, started early as crews left the yard by seven in order to get to the machines by eight. Men had begun showing up just after six. Workers traveled one way on their time and the other on the ID's. A typical day found the oiler gassing the pickup, filling the diesel drum, loading grease, checking oil and water, filling the canvas water bags and getting ready to travel by seven. The operator would make a final check and off they'd go, heading for the location where they'd left the dragline the day before, sometimes as far as twenty or thirty miles from the yard.