Circa 84 I was the PC for a city. Once in awhile they'd make me do the civil inspection of projects that I'd already staked, or were currently under construction. Mostly on widening jobs since I was there anyway. One time I got stuck with the paving crew trying to finish up. I knew they'd be there for several more hours, and I had a 6pm softball game.
My helper had to leave early for some reason, so I couldn't just have him watch them put 2" of asphalt down infinatum. I knew the firm and the foreman and just told him I've got to run and check something, I'll be back in a bit.... as I dashed off to my softball game.
When I got back, they were still paving. So I gathered the tickets, the tonage checked, and life went on. I never did like inspection but it was one of those necessary evils.
Construction Inspection: Contractor thinks you're too strict and the Design Engineer thinks you are too lenient.
> Construction Inspection: Contractor thinks you're too strict and the Design Engineer thinks you are too lenient.
Ain't that the truth Dave. And they are both right. I think many of us cross trained surveyor types could write volumes of Horror Story books on that exact topic. Most of what I did for the first 10 plus yrs of "surveying" was municipal related construction work: topos, alignments, staking. And that was before all this gizmoed out hocus pocus equipment we use nowadays, just plain old station/offset with a steel tape. Kinda miss a lot of that...
Once when I was on a crew, I used the instrument to look at women sunbathing, nude. The chief was upset he didn't get to look.
Once when I was on a crew, I cut myself to the bone on my legs. Wrapped it up and kept on moving.
Once, when I was on a crew, while watching the base station, a guy I knew pulled up and offered me a beer. I drank it all!
There are so many others, it's too much to list.
I've been thrown our of the boats while sounding rivers, fell out of trees, been shot at, shot back, held up by old biddies and pretty ladies, been in auto accidents, started fires to get warm, jumped in creeks to cool off, stayed under a tree for two hours in a storm, seen true Blue Northerns roll in, been stuck, winched out, dug out, napped, worked from dawn till dusk, and worked at night by cigarette lighter.
yep bandage it up with flagging, keep on going.
Once on the crew surveying several hundred miles south of here in a rural area I was crossing a 2-lane county road at an intersection with the state highway (a high speed right turn). A guy stopped right there when I had got to the centerline stripe and asked me, "How much to Survey my half acre?" I became visibly annoyed because he was asking to cause an accident (someone might come flying around the corner any second) and I have no clue how much, I said something curt like get a copy yellow pages and hire a local surveyor.
Now that's an inside joke on our crew, we ask each other (both licensed), "Hey, how much to Survey my half acre?"
I always liked the look on little kids faces when you're surveying in a nicer subdivision with sodded yards, etc that you know have an abundance of earth worms. They approach as your waving your locator around looking for a pin and they ask "...what is that yellow thing mister..."
I'd always tell them it's a worm locator. 9 times out of 10, when you dig up the monument there would be worms in the hole.
Miss that look... kids always make it fun. Then they get bored and go play.
One time, before I got into surveying, I was driving my pick-up past this survey guy who was working in the road. I waved to him, but he flipped me the bird; I hate that. Next thing I know we're swinging fists in the middle of the road. He hit me pretty good, so I figured that was enough fun, got back into my truck and headed home. Little did I know while my truck was parked along side the road, someone dumped illegal sh-t into my vehicle....cops pull me over, throw me in their car, after we tussel for awhile. I was exhausted, worked all night, got my A$$ kicked twice and busted for stuff I can't even spell.....All cuz of some smart A$$ Rodman. So I figured, if you can't beat em....join em....
That's Funny, Mass!
🙂
N
> Once on the crew surveying several hundred miles south of here in a rural area I was crossing a 2-lane county road at an intersection with the state highway (a high speed right turn). A guy stopped right there when I had got to the centerline stripe and asked me, "How much to Survey my half acre?" I became visibly annoyed because he was asking to cause an accident (someone might come flying around the corner any second) and I have no clue how much, I said something curt like get a copy yellow pages and hire a local surveyor.
>
> Now that's an inside joke on our crew, we ask each other (both licensed), "Hey, how much to Survey my half acre?"
That was an inside joke amongst us too. Some things are universal.
Around 1984, we were working in a new subdivision. We had walked down this paved alley to do some work, I can't remember what exactly. It was probably 102 degrees in the summer and after finishing the work, I was so hot I felt like I needed to cool off, and quick. Walking back towards the non-air conditioned suburban, the last house on the block had a new swimming pool, with no fence. While the rest of the crew kept walking towards the truck, I took off my watch and shoes/socks, handed them to another crew member and dove in. I swam under water to the other end, got out and put my shoes and watch back on. The crew never slowed down their walk to the truck, as I dove in and got out and rejoined them in stride. We all had a laugh and drove home. They couldn't believe I did that.
Once when I was on a crew we got the cherokee stuck way way way back in the woods where we were not supposed to be in the first place, so we walked to a tree sheer operator a mile a way and explained our plight, nice fella that he was he left his jobsite to come help us and while trying to pull us out got mired in the mud so deep that he got stuck.
So here we both were in a location where we were not supposed to be and stuck there, so our new pal calls his buddy down the street on big dozer to come help him out, to which the guys said it would be a while before he got to a quiting spot and would have to load the dozer on the trailer, drive one mile and unload, which he did, then he pulled us both out of the mire, but not before the dozer broke down and needed a part replaced.
This drama began at 8:30 AM and ended around 4:30....no survey work occured that day, our day was a total $hi+ bomb!
If my boss had come to the site during that big mess I think he may have fired every last of us, but definately me and I would have deserved it as I was in charge of the crew, it was my bad decision making that got all of us into that mess.
Age 22
Once when I was on a crew in Ybor City Florida, while surveying a building in center of town (circa late 1800s plat I think), I saw a bum ask to borrow another bum's old bicycle, the first bum agreed but in addition required the borrower bums shoes as collateral, it was agreed upon and off goes bum no.1 on the bicycle, mean while bum no.2 changes out of his raggedy shoes into the newly acquired shoes, this happened 10' feet from me while I was surveying, I think they were both happy with the deal.
you've got a bunch of 'stuck truck' stories don't you?
i like this thread!
I've been buried a few times too.
I have had a few encounters with paranoid tweekers.
I was staking a new barracks/mess hall at a rural, remote fire station. The property across the street was obviously doing a very busy drug business. A BMW started to pull out pulling a trailer (looked kind of strange). I was waiting for rodman to set a point so I looked down there, it stopped. I looked at rodman and heard the car moving, I looked down there, it stopped. After 3 or 4 iterations the car stopped in the road and the driver got out and yelled out me, YOU GOT A PROBLEM! I just looked away and the guy drove off.
The average tweaker looks so hollow health wise I'm afraid a small shove by me would kill them then imagine the paperwork.
I was surveying in downtown Ft.Worth in 1982 and had a bum come up to me. He took one look at the EDM on top of the theodolite and said "I know what that does." Since we had been working down there for several days, we had seen all kinds of bums and had heard them say all kinds of goofy things, I just replied "Oh, yeah?" He proceeded to tell me "Yep, that thing measures distances - sends a light beam down there and when it comes back it measures the time it takes and divides it in half and that is the distance." When I got back to the office that evening, it told the boss that I found out that day what surveyors do when they retire.
I got stuck once on top of a grassy hill. Pulled my F150 up to a good spot where I could see the entire job, set up the gear, went to work, got done and back in the truck.
Well it seems that when I pulled up around 8am the nice firm ground was actually frozen. When I went to leave around 3pm, the top 3 or 4 inches had thawed and the truck was somewhat lowered.
It seems that that model of 1991 2x4 F150's don't like slippery mud. After a while of rocking, spinning, pushing, pushing, rocking & spinning, I was now up past the wheel covers and not going anywhere. Mind you this is a perfectly good level area on top of a nice hill - with wet grass and a clay loamy soil.
The tow truck got a laugh, and an hour and $70 later we were heading home. The last 2x4 truck I've ever owned.
Crew stuck a 4 X 4 in some wet clay once, walked to town and borrowed a John Deere "R" from the Grain Growers Co-op to pull them out. The only time when we couldn't get our self's out. About a month ago I high centered my 250 on a terrace, had to use a jack and shovel to get the wheels all on the ground and the guards clear. Lost about a half hour.
jud
On the same crew and job as above one Monday morning we were packing in the week's survey supplies in addition to our instruments and brushing tools. At the rig everyone loaded up stake bags and backpacks with as many bundles of lath, stakes, hubs, cans of paint and rolls of flagging as we could. We trudged cross country a couple of miles over steep heavily forested ground until we got to where we’d left off on Friday.
We were dumping all the supplies under a big pine tree and John came dragging up, (last, of course) & dropped his backpack full of hubs and then tossed down the stake bag filled with paint cans on top of the heap. He then unclipped the chaining pins from his belt and tossed them like a knife into the ground. His aim was awful and the whole quiver went points first into the stake bag ful1 of paint. 3 of the cans were punctured and in the blink of an eye we were all splattered with florescent orange paint. As tired as he was, John took off at an impressive clip and it probably took us 5 minutes to run him down and mete out justice.
