Because the retreat was not in a particularly good location for wind exposure, the fifteen-foot tower was insufficient. Rather than buy a larger steel tower, the expense of which would have dwarfed the cost of buying the wind generator, Todd decided to build his own tower.
After studying several options for building their own guy-wired tower out of steel, it was Kevin who came up with the idea of building a wooden tower.
He said, “What you can do is build a three-legged wooden pole tower, and put a platform on top of it. Then, you can just bolt your fifteen-foot tower on top.”
As it turned out, it was a good, inexpensive, albeit time-consuming idea. Again through the newspaper, Mary found a source for used telephone poles. They bought three forty-footers. They cost a total of forty dollars, delivered. They used Todd’s McCullough Pro-Mac 610 chain saw to cut the poles off to equal lengths. It took some sweat and ingenuity, but Todd and Kevin were able to dig the holes for the posts, and raise them using a “gin pole” arrangement. Next, using a set of tree climbing spikes, Todd climbed the poles and built a platform out of two-by-tens. With foresight, they had already drilled holes through the poles for the bolts to attach the cross-members. All of the lumber for the platform was raised using a pulley arrangement.
After the wooden tower was in place, it took even more sweat and ingenuity to disassemble, raise, and reassemble the fifteen-foot “stub” tower for the Wincharger. Next, even more precariously, came the generator and, finally, its propeller. Even though Todd used heavy number-six cable to run the power from the generator to the twelve-volt system junction box, there was still considerable line loss in the fifty-seven feet of cable.
In retrospect, Todd was disappointed by the contribution of the Wincharger to the system. Even with a twenty-five-m.p.h. wind, the generator did not put out as much current as the eight PV panels on a sunny day. At least Todd had the satisfaction of knowing that in the winter, when their PV panels were putting out their least amount of power, the Wincharger would be cranking away, however inefficiently. Later, Todd admitted that the Wincharger was not worth the investment in dollars, time, and sweat that went into its installation. It was, however, as Todd put it, “good practical experience, and a chance to apply some brain power to something other than crunching numbers.”
The next upgrade for the retreat was the construction of “spider holes” for ambush positions by the side of the county road. There were a total of seven one-man foxholes, dug at roughly twelve-foot intervals. Todd then lined the foxholes with pressure treated plywood. To provide drainage, Todd dug the holes an extra fifteen inches deep and laid down a base of gravel beneath the floorboards. A dozen half-inch diameter holes were drilled in each set of floorboards.
Gray also took the time to dig a pair of “grenade sumps” for each spider hole. This design trick, which was taught to the group by Jeff Trasel, consisted of an eight-inch diameter hole, four feet long dug downward at a forty-five-degree angle, starting at each of the two front corners of each spider hole. As Jeff explained, the idea behind the sumps was that if anyone were to toss a grenade into a spider hole, whoever was occupying it could kick it into either of the sumps where it would explode harmlessly. This, of course, assumed that they could get the grenade into the sump before it exploded. Although it was considered a last ditch defense against grenades, it was better than nothing.
Todd and Mary found some interesting ways to camouflage the lids to the spider holes. Most were covered by old pieces of scrap plywood or odd-shaped pieces of corrugated sheet metal roofing material. One used a Volkswagen car door. The one that Todd was particularly proud of used an abandoned refrigerator laying on its back for a door. Because the sides of the refrigerator were above ground level, Todd reinforced them from inside with six sheet thicknesses of the quarter-inch plate steel left over from the door and window shutter project.
As the spider holes were positioned at twelve-foot intervals, Todd thought that their positioning might attract suspicion, so he scattered additional pieces of junk around the area. When completed, the set of spider holes was undetectable. It just made the area between their fence line and the county road resemble a junk pile.
The last major physical security upgrade for the retreat was a chain-link fence around the house. Its gate got one of the last of the set of keyed-alike locks. As it turned out, the lowest price available on chain-link fences came from Sears. When the installation crew inquired why they wanted the fence, Mary just pointed to Shona and answered, “I don’t want our Ridgeback wandering off and getting shot by some farmer. I hear that it happens quite a bit around here.”
The fence was to serve two purposes. First, it would slow down anyone trying to gain entrance to the house. Second, it would pre-detonate the warheads of rocket propelled grenades (RPGs). Todd didn’t mention this second aspect to Mary. The thought of anyone using a LAW rocket or a Soviet RPG against their house seemed far-fetched. He didn’t want Mary laughing at him. She had already told him that she thought that the spider holes were “a bit much.”
Late in the summer Todd set about getting his supply of wood ready for winter. Although he didn’t have to, he decided to split all five cords of wood before stacking it. “We won’t have to stack it twice this way,” he declared. Todd had never split large quantities of wood before, so he ended up regretting the fact that he had committed himself to splitting the wood all at once. As it turned out, it took him two weeks to do the job, because he also had six hours of accounting work to do every day.
As his experience at wood splitting grew, Todd became a better judge of where to strike with the splitting maul, and with the larger rounds of wood, where to place his wedges. Consequently, Todd got quite a bit faster at the job.
Mary, who was doing all the stacking while Todd did the splitting, noticed the quickening of his pace. She complained, “Slow down, Arnie, I’m starting to have trouble keeping up with you.”
“Who’s Arnie?” Todd asked.
“You know, Arnold Schwarzenegger. I figured with all those bulging muscles that you’ve been building, you’ll look like Arnie in no time at all.”
Todd grinned and joked in his best pseudo-German, “Yah, das ist true, mein Leibchurn. I vill be zee Arrnee of your treams.”
After a long pause and a shared smile, Mary wiped her brow, and said, “I’ve got to take a break and get some water. I’ll finish up stacking the rest of this wood later in the afternoon when it starts to cool off.” She then turned and walked back to the house, her hips swinging enough to make Todd whistle.
Todd was seldom so intensely happy. Married life suited him well.
CHAPTER 9
Shank’s Mare
In late May, following two months of boredom, Rose Trasel spotted a stranger approaching the perimeter of the retreat. It was just after dawn. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She thought she saw movement, but then could see nothing. Rose picked up the binoculars and scanned the area where she thought she had seen the movement. Still she saw nothing.