Sanford & Son--Moving Day

    The agency where I work moved in with the Forest Service and the National Guard along with the MCR and the Navy Reserves a couple years back.  Space is limited and we no longer had an acre of graveled lot behind the warehouse like we used to on Chad Drive. 
     Our Recreation Department rented space from the Lame County Dept of Public Works on Delta Highway.  Recently the county raised the rent to the point where it was decided that the three rec techs would return to Gorky Park.  I was sent packing across the parking lot to Gilligan's Island to make room for the three.  The head of the Rec Dept opted to retire rather than return to Gorky Park.  He liked his little fiefdom off away from the main office and didn't wish to have supervisors drop in whenever they felt like it.
     Our Rec people have a temporary shed built on three 4 X 4 skids that was inside a big garage.  The 8' X 16' shed was full of tools and signs and just plain junk.  Somebody called the outfit that built the shed and was quoted a price of three grand to move the building to its new home in the cramped space behind the warehouse.  I poo pooed the idea and declared that we could move the building utilizing organic resources with our dead car trailer.  I connected the battered trailer to Papa (Papa Oscar Sierra), the giant four door diesel power pickup and Dan and I headed for the Lame County Dept of Public Works. 
     We were able to borrow two forklifts and helped Ken, John, Paul and Rob unload all the crap out of the dusty building.  We had four pickup including Papa and we pretty much filled them all with tons of tools and other stuff.  Then we skidded the building outside with the two forklifts.  Dan backed the trailer to the end of the brown building with the door and we messed around trying to throw a piece of parachute cord tied to a trailer ball the 16 feet under the shed.  We finally resorted to lifting the shed from the side with a forklift and successfully rigged a chain around behind the middle skid. 
     I pulled tight with the rear facing electric winch and the two ton shed skidded along to the loading ramps of the 18 foot tiltbed trailer.  With some assist with forklifts, I put a 2 inch metal pipe under the front of the skids and this made the building move a little easier.  It was still necessary to hook a pulley to the chain at the front of the building and bring the main line back to the front of the trailer for mechanical advantage.  The shed was wider than the fenders on the trailer but the three skids fit between them.  I brought a round post that we placed against the industrial strength fenders and lifted the skids on top of.
     I had miscalculated and the floor of the shed was going to drag on the fender tops.  John found a couple pieces of scrap 2 X 6, which when placed under the pole, gave it enough height so that the floor cleared the diamond steel fenders that covered the trailer's four wheels.  Eventually the trailer tilted level and we pinned the deck with an old tire iron and retaining pin.  The top of the shed was close to 13 feet above the pavement.  Nobody was sure of the height of traffic signals and power lines but it seemed that since the pros had moved the thing here, we would be able to move it across town to its new home. 
     We set out with two pilot trucks and a chase truck--all filled with rec equipment.  Papa pulled the load easily with its mighty turbo diesel.  A sheriff waved as he passed us so apparently we weren't going to be hassled by the police.  Dan made the turns very slowly so we didn't lose the building in the middle of a busy intersection.  We dawdled along at between 15 and 20 mph.  John in the chase rig reported on the radio that the top of the building was missing wires and traffic signals by at least a meter.
     Our mighty convoy plodded east, crossing Coburg road.  Inconvenienced raced past us yelling at us enthusiastically and rendering the one finger salute.  Apparently they were telling us that they still thought BLM was number one!   We crossed under I-5 into Springfield and idled past River Bend Hospital.  Dan elected to travel a busier stretch of road to the office.  There were back ways with little traffic but the power lines might have been lower.  We cruised around the parking lot seeking the best way to back the rig to where we would drop the shed.  I left the unloading to the rest of the herd and went back to Gilligan's Island to finish my retirement paperwork.  N