The Dead of Night, Old Growth spiders in my brain.

Arborist Forum

Help Support Arborist Forum:

This site may earn a commission from merchant affiliate links, including eBay, Amazon, and others.
And thanks should go to randy if i had not read his stuff i would have never wrote the first word in story on thius thread. but due to a lil coaxing form him i decided what the hek go for it
 
Thanks DD!!!

I got to sit and watch a crew drilling a gas well here in WV a few years back. Those guys were working their tales off. I was blown away by how fast they could drop a new pipe in place....


.
 
well here goes another episode.. Twisted perceptions from the mind of a roughneck..

The day drilling in the TXU coal mine went to HELL.

Sitting on top of the biggest hill in an old coal mine in tatum , texasss.. This mine had machinery that would dwarf our old rig with ease. Roads in this coal mine were at a phenominal status. The machines that traversed this road could run over a half ton pick up truck and they would have never know you were ever there. i drove this road on a daily basis to and from the ole girl on top of the hill. When we started this job we absolutely loved the position the rig set in . A norm for mid summer in texus reaches into the 110 plus range , normally the rig would be in some thick ass god forsaken area of woods that you couldnt even pump a freakin breeze in . But for some reason the upper management for the drilling company actually loooked at a calender for this job and spotted the earth penatator in an area where it would be nice to work . This hill was high enough that the 70 foot pines at the base of the hill looked up to us, the way it should be .

This morning i drove into the rig, 430 a.m. first day back in hell, A kind sight for a travel weary driller was that the rig was actually drilling, I pondered for a moment " when i get on shift i can put my feet up for a lil bit and watch this iron beast chew its way through layers of earth that havent been seen since its creation . " have one of the boys watch the break for me and kick back and have a power nap . ,,,, lil did i know my thought pattern wouldnt end up the way i exactly expected... After a few moments of rationless thought i unloaded the ole f -150 took my bags in threw em in the floor beside my bunk. HAHAHA bunk . twin size bed for a king size man. kinda like squeezing shamu into a 50 gallon aqarium . IN other words i could get in it but there was stuff hanging out around the edges. but this morning i had 45 minutes before my shift started , NAP time . layed down long enough to get comfortable doze off and the screaching of an ole busted alarm clock said get my big ass up . should have said " dressed rehearsal for hell boys.. " But unkowingly we rolled out, strapped up and out teh door.

The 20 mph breeze atop this hill was sharp as a razors edge this morning . A lil cool snap with mish in the breeze from the water pumping station down the hill that sprayed water in all directions constantly in a 180 degree radius. The breeze just carried the mist right on up the hill. This however made it nice as the day trugded on . Up the stairs we went . all talkin crap about how we waisted a perfectly good set of days off,.. On in the dog house the crews met up to relieve, my reliefs first words to me was FRESH MEAT . HEHEHE, hell yea i said. My relief informed me that we had 70 more feet to drill to reach our mark, 13,065 feet . we spoke about pump pressures, how much weight it was taking to make this carbide sprinkled peice of fecal matter on the end of our drill string to make hole. (the bit) . All the ecenticities aside , it was my turn to hold the bull by the horns for seven days. 7 12 hour shifts. 6 am to 6 pm . Day break to sunset , lock in ya seat belts boys here we goooooooooo..

I reached the marked deapth , called my boss , he said good job , now drill 150 more feet we just got clearance from our office to see what the next formation holds. I eased back to the brake and put her back to drilling , by this time it was almost 8 am , my bosses where down in the lil tin cans , makin daily phone calls faxing in reports. so i propped up by the brake handle smoking me a cig. It was a stunningly beautiful day on the hill, I told my boys what i wanted them to get cleaned up around the rig and off they went , as if they were actually gonna make a lucid effort to accomplish what i had aked of them in a timely manner.... bullchit , as soon as they were out of line of sight they were just like state workers, completely useless.... hahahah , neways...
back to drilling , pump pressures , rate of penetration, hook loads, mud pumps strokes. all kinds of stuff to monitor. Im here to tell you , if you walk this iron long enough the vibrations of the steel will hold conversations with you. something running to fast or to slow makes the old deck plates rattle a lil different, makes the engines wine a lil harder. this morning was no different.

I put the cig out and walked to the hand rail , been watching the sun come up for years today had been no different. watched deer playing in the fields of grass surounding rig. Out of the blue i felt the ole rotary table bog down like the ole bit was finally digging its teeth in . I walked back to the monitor by the brake handle and looked , my penetration rate went from 25 feet an hour to 350 feet an hour, This sumbeach is diggin its ass off. All as if in perfect unison , my pump pressure fell off, lost 500psi, my flow rate ( how much fluid was coming out of hole ) went from 250 gallons per minute to 400 and climbing. I layed on the old horn, it broke the silence as if a cannon had been set off. when the horn is blown one long continuous time , every body reports to there battle station . i shut the pumps down, and started picking the pipe up out of the hole . SUm beach the mud is still coming out , bubling and belching out the hole as i picked up , My assumptions were correct , we had drilled off into a sandy formation full of hydrocarbons( natural gas, and this gas liked to show its ass) . The pressure of the gas was greater than the presuue exerted by the column of fluid that sat atop it , so here it comes.


got the bushings clear the hole , mud spewing as if coming from the back of moby #### him self . I looked like a huge chocolate covered easter treat for some kid. i ran to the hand rail , bellered to the man on the b.o.p. controls to shut her is and open the diverter lines . Whew. had the bull by the balls now , what to do with er. We fought this well for 62 days, txu tompkins #3 better known as hell on the hill. We ciculated and burnt a flare for the rest of the job. finally got it killed and finished . That well is one of the best producers they have in that mine .

sorry this story doesnt have the gramatical flare of some of my others , sleep time creeping in .
 
attachment.php
 
I'm wandering off for a bit, something is gnawin' on me, be back after awhile.

<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>
 
I'm wandering off for a bit, something is gnawin' on me, be back after awhile.

<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>

Don't be gone too long. You know the way back. We'll be here.
 
I'm wandering off for a bit, something is gnawin' on me, be back after awhile.

<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gR8pJlbrEIQ?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>



Come on PawPaw tell me a story! LOL
 
Freakin' LOVE Robin Trower.

You might try to find this then: Robin Trower, Jack Bruce, and Bill Lourdan did an album called BLT. It may be impossible to find now? When I decided to change my ways about 30 years ago I sold all 475 of my rock albums. That was one of them. Sorry for taking the thread off track.
 
The battle rages on Randy. Keeps you on your toes. Practice your grip from time to time. Hard to look others in the eye on occasion. I have a sliver of the feeling you're talking about, but I'm young yet. I can only imagine it will get worse. That last one with a few word changes I've written myself. The weirdness can be fun, intoxicating, lackluster, annoying, sobering, ragged, maddening. I can't imagine any other way. Good writing man.
 
Back
Top