Back in the 1970??s I was party chief of a two-man crew staking curb and gutter on a long straight stretch of road in North Denver. We marked out 25?? stations with stakes and then I proceeded to set 2? square hubs and tacks as the instrument man gave line. Eventually we stopped for lunch and the IM pestered me non-stop about letting him pound for a while. I guess we shared a distaste for standing behind an instrument all day.
I finally agreed reluctantly to let him take the double jack sledgehammer and took my place behind the T-16. He walked up the line to where we had ended which was several hundred feet from the gun. As I watched through the scope he set down the bucket full of hubs, set out a new can of Aervoe blue paint, got down on his knees, took out one hub and I lined him up. He tapped in the hub then rose to his feet and took a roundhouse swing at the hub, edging it and sending it skittering off about 20 feet. He walks over to get the hub and repeats the process. This time he edges the hub again but it only goes 10 feet as it ricochets off the paint can. He ambles on over to pick it up and start again.
I can see this is going to be a slow afternoon. As I watch through he scope he stands up the paint can, which looks to me to be pretty close to line and I guide him with arm signals to set the hub back on line. Again he rises to his feet and takes a might swing??.and disappears in a cloud of blue paint as he had directly struck the paint can. He was pretty well covered on his front side and in his beard. I put him back on the instrument after the paint dried and pounded hubs the rest of the day with tears in my eyes. Production was diminished as I just could not quit laughing.
I was staking sewer in a subdivision in Indiana probably 10 years ago on a 2-man crew. The other guy was a good friend of mine and we had worked together at a couple places. It was very cold out, snowy, and we both had coveralls on. I was operating the rod (using a robot) and he was waiting for me to get off the point so he could pound in a hub. The ground was frozen and he was swinging the hammer over his head to drive through the frost layer. I stood back a bit as I didn't trust his hand-eye coordination as much as he did. He was kneeling with his knees on the ground on either side of the hub and the inevitable happened: when he skimmed the edge of the hub it directed the hammer right onto the meat of his quad above the knee.?ÿ
I was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing as he rolled around on the ground in absolute agony, but my laughter probably didn't make this known. The sound of hammer on leg sounded like someone took a sledgehammer full-force against a frozen side of beef. He hit it good. I know I bought him a beer(s) that day and he was fine. I sure am glad he at least had some coveralls on to cushion that blow.
On the side of I-10 and setting a hub/tack work point for topo control. Chief set the hub in place, first hit it held, he wound up a bit more for the second hit and the hub seemed to, not drive but, come back up a little. Trying to get the hub set so we could move on, he decided to put some arm into the next swing, hit the hub square and watched it bounce up out of the hole.
The perplexed look on his face made me laugh, he's pretty much the stoic type in the field. Finally figured out we hit a tire re-cap and moved the hub a foot or so.
As the man with the hammer said while I was holding the stake, "Nod your head and I will hit it."
Hurt like hell.
We had staked curb and gutter in a cul de sac and were running levels for grade.?ÿ The crew chief never used a Gammon reel, just usually wrapped the string over his neck or let it dangle.?ÿ He was standing next to an open catch basin writing in the field book.?ÿ The string had gone under one boot and the other boot was on the string.?ÿ When he tried to step away he tripped and fell head first into the 6 foot deep basin.?ÿ We went running up expecting him to be really hurt.?ÿ He climbed out, turned red in the face, said a few words that I can't say here, and threw that plumb bob as far as he could throw it.?ÿ Both ends snapped off.?ÿ THEN we commenced to laugh which made it even worse. Luckily, he finally realized how funny it was and joined in.
Andy
he sound of hammer on leg sounded like someone took a sledgehammer full-force against a frozen side of beef. He hit it good. I know I bought him a beer(s) that day and he was fine
True surveying material there.?ÿ
Always carried a 5 pound with a short handle for staking. Was using it and a chisel to punch a hole in pavement. I was choked way up on the handle. Handle hit my thigh which put my finger between the handle and the chisel. Popped the end of that finger like a grape. When I got to the doctor he looked at and said "eeeeewwwwww, ain't no way I can sew that back together"?ÿ?ÿ
Kerwhacked a partially set RR spike many years ago.?ÿ It shot up out of the hole, hit me on the shin bone, then barely missed my head as it arced off into space.?ÿ Still have the gouge to prove it happened, through a nearly new pair of jeans.?ÿ That will make you sick to your stomach in a heartbeat.
@drew-r?ÿ
You can have a 500 lb bull kick you in that same spot to get an identical feeling.?ÿ It was a few months before the color returned to normal where the contact was made.
Had a 3 man crew painting saw cut lines for a couple thousand feet of paved road.
One guy on each end of a string, one guy painting. We were using a lot of paint and building up empty cans quickly. We thought it was fun to throw a plumb bob at empty paint cans, one for the skill it took to actually puncture the can you aimed at and two for the thrill of hearing that last little piece of compressed gas come out "psst". I did it all of the time with empties.
Youngster on the crew with a blonde, spiked-up flattop took a turn with what turned out to be a not nearly empty enough can of fluorescent red. Perfect shot! The sound wasn't so much a "psst" as it was a "whoosh". The blast of paint followed the bob string right back at the guy. Complete coverage from about his nipples to the top of the tallest spike in his hair. He was wearing RayBans and they left a perfect outline.
We could not go on, laughing so hard. Had to go back the next day. We called him "Cheetos" forever after.
JA, PLS, SoCal
- @jerry-attrick The hero of my story earned the temporary nickname SMURF.?ÿ
Similar but not as bad, was only using a 3lb medium handle length sledge to start frozen holes with the BP for stakes and caught a glancing blow to my index finger.
I said a choice stream of obscenely defined words to which my chief asked "are you ok? Take your glove off and let me see it..."
And I responded..."See the blood coming out of the glove, if I pull my hand out my finger might not be attached... Let's just go to the doc in a box... "
All said, I'm lucky to only have had a minor avulsion that needed no stitches. And not even a new nick name either. Lucky day staking I'll say.
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I've told this story before, so I'll cut it short. It's true, and not exaggerated. Years ago as a graduate engineer I did a lot of Benkelman beaming and one day we were sent out to a motorway job to do some final tests. I was told that all the "shirts" were going to be there, so it was real important stuff. After setting up the kit, I primed up the beam truck driver (I was about 22 years old, and he must have been in his 40's), and got him on board with the importance of looking good, and after my pep talk I struck off to the back of the truck, and he struck off to the cab. Then I glanced over my shoulder and saw him achieve this position:
He'd boosted himself up to the cab door, grabbed at the hand-hold, missed it, realised he was screwed, and instinctively adopted a crucifix death dive backward pose and fell about 2m, splat on his back onto the pavement, writhing in agony. I'm sorry but I found this to be one of the funniest things I ever seen, and to cover for his embarrassment and pretend I hadn't seen it, I went back behind the truck to lean on it and weep with laughter. After some time I was able to look up, and to my horror, a group of a dozen shirts had assembled and were watching me, crying behind the truck, and the driver curled up in a ball on the ground, moaning beside it. Then one of them said: "clearly they are not set up yet" and off they went.
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