"Hey!
We just discussed this last week, remember?
You promised to finish up those last few heater repairs so that we could do a few laps!
Well the sun's out again, and the hot weather will be arriving within the next few weeks...
Put those chores away! We need to stretch our legs a bit ~"
    Ruby

     How's your Saturday treating you so far?
Oh ~ I meant to look this up, but I haven't yet... is today the first day of Autumn? It feels like Spring with the drizzle of rain we've gotten overnight, but the aromas of dried weeds and grasses so recently sprinkled on which wafted across the adjacent pastures and dry creekbed this morning certainly smacked of Autumn! There are some wonderfully seasonal smells that I have enjoyed over the years while soaking in this spa here at Rancho Carmando.
   This morning's wasn't my first dip into the spa since moving back to Old Airport less than two weeks ago. In fact, It was last Saturday night that I finally got the old tub wired back into its old familiar space on one of the little decks facing Jensen's pasture to the north. And what a fiasco THAT was! Because after slowly filling the tub with hot water from an outside hot faucet, I went to the panel to flip on the circuit breaker only to find that an air-lock in the piping beneath was preventing that freshly-filled hot water from getting into the pump!
   By this time, it's 11pm and I'm pretty beat from moving and unpacking all day, and I really wanted a soak before bed, dammit! So I took some of the spa's wood skirting apart to access the plumbing underneath. The idea was to simply loosen a big pipe coupling at the pump inlet, drain out the air, then re-connect when my hot water showed up. Problems arose though, when I accidentally spun the coupling too far, which allowed a TORRENT of hot water out of the big pipe until, fumbling, I could re-attach the coupling, which by now had lost its O-ring in the flood of water!
    So it's now 11:30, I'm fairly soaked from that cascade, and I have to search underneath the spa's guts using a flashlight to locate a three inch diameter O ring that may or may not have completely washed downstream in the flash flood. I was lucky when it turned up after only five minutes of searching, so I set about preparing to get it back into its groove... hopefully without completely draining the entire 150 gallons of pre-heated water.
     Once into a strategic position, I mustered all of my meager reserves and spun that coupling off the pump, slowly separating the joint, and then fighting a fresh flood of another thirty or forty gallons of pleasantly warm spa water, I attempted to fit that blasted O ring back into it's groove in the coupling. With all that warmth splashing into my lap, it took all my powers of concentration and dedication to get that ring seated and the pipe jammed onto the pump, finally spinning the large coupling into place.
    By then I was laughing crazily into the midnight air... relieved to have saved two thirds of the water, but wearing one third of it from neck to toes! I was WAY too tired to think about going to bed before re-filling the tub for a maiden voyage and having a victory soak. And so I did, and it was a well-deserved and fairly exquisite soak, though I do not recollect the presence of any of the Old Airport aromas during that first night in the old tub. Not like this morning's post-rainy soak, anyway.
     Those aromas ~ aaahhh... so sweet! A little musty, perhaps, but sweet - like the oats that a horse might receive as a treat. And the cool air this morning held that sweet blanket down low for me to inhale... until my coffee cup ran dry, anyway. By then it was time to get downtown to the Farmer's Market to do some foraging for meat and veggies.
     Roxanne and Micky from Sinclair Ranch in Ophir didn't have my Bratwurst, but they had an awesome twin-pack of ribeye steaks that I couldn't resist. They weighed three pounds. Brian K. and the excellent folks from Natural Trading Company had their first Butternut squash of the season (organic), including one giant that had to weigh close to five pounds. Ten more pounds there.
      Five or so large Asian pears from that nice fella sporting dark brown hair and moustache and black-framed eyeglasses who's in Newcastle (cannot think of his name or that of his farm!) added another seven pounds to my stylish carry-bags. And the girls at Newcastle Produce had some green onions, Bor kale and sweet little cucumbers for us, while the short lady with the cute little girls from Sacramento's Vue Farm provided us with the usual bok choy and some other similar green which I cannot spell, pronounce, or even remember for that matter.
    With some odds and ends gathered on the way out, those bags were carrying right around twenty-five pounds of our region's finest, soon to become several delicious meals this week (and then some!).

  

It's nearly 1:30pm by now. The rain has held off since early this morning, but the breeze is picking up and the sky is getting dark and angry again. We're heading over toward the canyon's edge in a little while... going to an outdoor wedding. The bride-to-be is the beautiful Erin, daughter of our long-time neighbors and friends, Dave and Janet Crosby. It's not looking good for a dry ceremony or reception. Uh-oh... there's the first thunder. And there are now some really fat raindrops coming down onto the driveway with quite a "splat"! ....and more thunder. Nice.
      Oh well. Long as we can get to the buffet food before it gets too soggy, the wedding won't be a total loss. And just think of the stories those young lovebirds will get to tell their grandchildren someday!
     Naw... it'll be fine. But I definitely call dibs on one of the five big red market umbrellas I delivered over to the wedding party just an hour ago. And I think I'll bring a jacket.
     Have fun this weekend.
          Just don't be afraid to get wet!

   If you were thinking  that all the remnants of our recent Spring were behind us, you'd be in good company. After all, once we Auburn-ites bump up to a post-Memorial Day one-hundred degree day, we're generally in for summer weather for the rest of Summer, which in turn causes inside each of us a deep craving for cool, gray, wet weather. This “unseasonable” weather has certainly been amusing to me... even a bit surprising, since I just finished re-stocking my trusty old van with a few dozen A/C parts that had been instrumental in the rescue of so many of my early June customers! So when the sound of my lawn sprinklers drifted through open living room windows this morning, I had to re-locate the puppy pile that had accumulated on and around my lap on the sofa, set down my coffee-stained Auburn Journal, and go outside to shut those sprinklers down until further notice. We can save some water for later with a rain like this.

      But there are many among us that aren't surprised with wild swings in daily high temperatures, or 55-inch rain seasons followed by 27-inch years. Their acceptance here may be the result of having come to terms with the variances in our weather necessary to provide our region with an average climate. Or maybe they've mellowed now that their teenage offspring have been raised and sent off to college, and nothing much fazes them anymore. Whichever. But this phenomena is really nothing more than 'weather'... even as much as some would love to directly correlate it to global warming or climate change. I choose to let those with their specifically-trained big brains make that sort of heavy-duty proclamation.

      As you made your way through town yesterday and today, or even down the hill to Roseville or Sac, how did you like all that moisture you traveled through? Did it stir any memories? I'll bet it did. And it must have awakened at least a few of your six senses. Like on Monday, when our dusty, paved asphalt roads set loose that first wonderful assault on our noses. Aahhh... warm, wet asphalt. Mmmm..
And when the fields and pastures of already golden summer-dried weeds got enough of a soaking, their unique, amazing aromas certainly must have convinced you to inhale several deep breaths through your nostrils. With its curious sweetness tickling your sinuses, didn't you reminisce of some youthful adventure or another?

     There's been a weight to the air these last two days. Not an oppressive Ozarks-type pneumonia-inducing weight... more of that gauzy pleasant Pacific coastal air density you feel at about 12 noon on any day during the June Gloom period in Santa Barbara... about an hour before it burns off. I wonder... when exercising aerobically outdoors in this, what does it feel like to breathe so deeply? I've been awful lazy these days and don't have a clue.

      And how about all those great summer colors up against our dumpy, lumpy gray oatmeal skies? When the sun isn't available to wash out the brilliance and depth of the hues all around, don't they stand our so well? I know my eyes were younger then, but when Linda and I lived east of Portland back in '80 or so, it was the popping color everywhere in that constant pall of overcast that was so memorable. For good or bad, I still can't shoot a decent picture in sunshine OR in the gray light, but isn't it so easy to capture it inside one's own mind? If I could only print all these pictures in my head, stunning colors and all... my Christmas gift-giving would be so much easier.

     Nice little break in the weather, that. Good thing it ain't gonna last all summer long though. PCWA needs to sell water to pay their people's wages and retirements. PG&E's shareholders will be sorely disappointed come dividend-time if we all leave our Air Conditioners turned “OFF” the summer long. And what about me? How'd you like to see me there at the Raley's parking lot exit... Budweiser in one hand, cardboard sign in the other, proclaiming, ”Why lie? I just want a little warmth, and your spare change.” In fact, the old Weather Underground is telling me tonight that by this weekend, we might just be sweltering again... maybe longing for these good old days of late June, 2013, when we couldn't wait to get back to normal.. and turn our lawn sprinklers back on.

Two Weeks Ago,
I was fortunate to have been invited to tour the factory and offices of a large Houston based HVAC manufacturer along with four of my friends - competing Auburn-area heating and cooling contractors. The junket was very informative and enlightening, and we HVAC brethren shared that education and each others good company for three days before flying back to Sac-town International Airport.
       As good as our time in Houston turned out, I was still looking forward to getting back home to Auburn for all the typical reasons - the comfort of family, pets and neighbors, my familiar diet and routine, and to catch-up on chores and service calls. But I was especially looking forward to catching the Placer Hillmen's second round football playoff game
    Sadly, our flight home from Houston that afternoon was delayed, leading to an unfortunate 9:30pm return to the foothills...  too late to catch the end of the Placer football game as I'd hoped. So after greeting my family and dispatching my bags, I did a quick web search for the results of the game, finding the cold, hard reality of a heartbreaking loss posted on several websites.
      Coming up short in a 27 to 26 contest, I certainly missed seeing an obviously exciting game. Not that I'm complaining about missing a game... The Hillmen have graciously provided us with plenty of excitement throughout the season.  And though the season's end is upsetting, I think I'm most upset about missing the wonderful experience of seeing our Hillmen lined up along the sideline in front of us in the bleachers... these fifty big kids. These classy young men. Because at the end of the game, whether they've won or lost, and they've finished honoring their opponents with handshakes at mid-field, they remove their helmets and form a long, bulky line to face us, their fans. They link together at last with strong arms wrapped around waists and over one another's shoulders as we family and friends stand to honor them from our perch in LeFebre Stadium. And they sing their alma mater, and sway back and forth in time with their song like a green and gold centipede, while we that
 they face sing right back to them. And it's a wonderful and amazing thing, because their emotion is palpable and contagious, travelling through the crisp air of these cool autumn nights when they sing. A spectacle, to be sure, but one with a feeling you just don't get very often.
      As sorry as I am that I missed seeing them put their considerable talent on display last Friday night, I'm more disappointed that I missed what The Hillmen shared when they sang in the end to honor their Green and Gold. Congratulations, boys, and thank you for this season's most excellent and inspirational performance. All of you are champions.

"And Why Does Yours Cost So Much Less?"
   Late last Thursday afternoon I got a phone call from a Newcastle resident. Kelly J. was calling some local HVAC contractors, frantically checking on the price to replace a failed combustion blower assembly. She was in a hurry, she told me, because there was a technician attempting to disassemble her furnace as we spoke. He had quoted her $826.00 to do the job. She didn’t hesitate to tell me that if she could find a price that she deemed more reasonable, she would stop the tech, pay him for his time, and send him away. Once I gave her my price (approximately four hundred bucks less than she was quoted by the gentleman currently disemboweling her furnace), she questioned me for throwing out such a lowball figure, telling me that other Auburn-area heating companies were nearly two hundred bucks more than my price. “Well,” I said. “I don’t think that I’ve left anything out from my phone estimate. Knowing that unit like I do, I’m familiar with the cost of the assembly, and putting it in is a walk in the park, so yeah. That’s the cost.”
      Kelly let me know she’d be calling me back later… after dispatching the tech currently tearing that furnace apart in her back yard.
       So I go out to her house next morning to have a look-see. After meeting my new customer, I grabbed my tool bag and proceeded to verify the assessment made yesterday by a LARGE Sacramento-area HVAC service company whose name is just like my own company name, only BIGger. You may have heard their radio spots on a few of the AM stations within range of Auburn and Newcastle.
      After unzipping the controls area and by-passing the thermostat to ask the unit for some heat, I observed the same failure that the other tech had seen yesterday. But through my eyes, I couldn’t be convinced to make the same diagnosis. So I continued to test, and trace circuits, and dig a little deeper.
    Finally I found the culprit after going back to the schematic several times, because these symptoms simply didn’t jive with this unit’s failure history. And it made complete sense to me once I found it. Quite simply, some preventive maintenance to the AIR CONDITIONER was entirely responsible for the failure of the HEATER. Well… not entirely responsible.
     It turns out that the same BIG company with the name like Mountain Air that was toying with the unit yesterday had been here to Kelly’s house in early June to do some A/C tune up work. Not un-typically, the maintenance technician suggested to Miss Kelly that her air conditioner was at risk of failure due to a worn, pitted contactor. “I should replace that while I’m here before it fails and possibly ruins your expensive air conditioner!” is what I was trained to tell my customers back in the day. Next, a “Would you like me to show you the problem, or should I just go ahead and make it right?” was what I was next trained to ask, because allowing the customer to make that choice would give the control back to them. Selling contactors and other doo-dads is a good way for a commission-paid tech to earn a bigger paycheck, whether or not the equipment might benefit from those parts commensurate with their installed costs.
    Now bear in mind that we technicians with a conscience don’t employ those tactics on our customers. And in his defense, that contactor in Kelly’s air conditioner may have genuinely needed to be replaced by the technician, so don’t get me wrong… I’m just sayin’. Nevertheless, the NEW contactor put in by that technician in June was the WRONG ONE. He put in a two-pole contactor instead of the manufacturer’s required one-pole contactor, and that’s exactly the reason for the furnace’s inability to function normally.
    Okay. A simple mistake in itself, right? Just put in the one-pole contactor and be done with it. But the issue is this: That tech was in the process of putting in $826.00 worth of unnecessary repairs. When the old combustion assembly was trashed in the removal process, and the new one was in and the heater STILL not operable… do you think the tech would come clean with Kelly? Or, more likely, would he do some quiet cussing for a few minutes, scratch his head, perform another battery of tests and digging and circuit-tracing, and then quietly retrieve a fifteen-dollar one-pole contactor from his truck and go put it into Kelly’s unit?
      Yeah… that’s what I think, too. Because that tech doesn’t want to eat the cost of the combustion assembly. And Kelly’s already agreed to pay the eight hundred bucks to get her heater operating again anyway, right?
      There used to be an HVAC wholesaler down in Sac where, while being served at the counter, I once witnessed techs boasting during the trade of their horror stories similar to this situation. Licensed contractors and/or their employees. Raised my eyebrows. So my jaundiced view of the integrity of some peers is not without warrant.
    I fetched Kelly and brought her to the back yard to show her what I found. Understandbly she was pissed. I offered to perform the minor repair, but yesterday’s tech had already done some damage to the combustion blower wheel’s balance, so the nasty little vibration now present would sooner or later ruin the motor bearings.  I suggested that Kelly talk to the owner of the BIG company, and using my written diagnosis, request that everything be brought back to proper function and reliability on THEIR dime. After all… them’s that’s responsible, right?
      I collected my $85.00 service fee for the trip charge and diagnosis, leaving Kelly to fight for her rights as a consumer using the ammunition that I left her. She was happy to write the check to me, and promised that in the future, she’ll call me at the little Mountain Air Heating & Cooling before anyone else. And that’s all I can hope for.

Is It Summer Again? Or Just a Pleasant Blip On The Screen?

On the Sunday that I set off on my bike tour (what was that? Two and a half weeks ago?), we in these foothills enjoyed a bit of summer-like heat for a few days. 95 degrees, a few 93's, 91 at midweek, then back down to the more expected range (and well below!) as the week closed out.  I was able to taste that early October warmth further down the hill while riding through Sacramento, Davis, Fairfield and Benicia. Climbing up into the Southampton hills at about 4:30pm on Monday the 1st, Benicia's Welcome Committee greeted me with a sultry 99 degree happy hour to finish my sixty-four mile day. We should all be so fortunate to have good memories involving days of notable weather.
     Sure... this heat will just be a blip on the screen. Nothing atounding, but certainly pleasant warmth. I hear that on Saturday we'll be treated to fair skies and low seventies air to enjoy Auburn's Community Festival at Rec Park AND the Big Time Pow Wow at the Fairgrounds. And just in time, too. Could be a cloud or two moving in after that... maybe even some decent rain coming down during the next week.
     I'll be busy getting many of my favorite customers' heaters prepped for the winter to come for the next few weeks. With that unmistakable aroma that shows up when the furnace is fired up after a long summer vacation, we'll reflect on our memories of the past four or five months, and get busy on our lists of the chores that'll take us comfortably into the shorter, darker, colder days ahead.
    

Being that the calandar is telling us that Autumn is officially here, this will be as good a day as any to officially declare that Mountain Air is now going into a  Soft Hibernation Mode.
After two days of mixed ride-training and A/C repair and replacement, I really need to get busy preparing for this cycle tour. When a customer calls from here on out, I'll need to remember to be firm but sweet at the same time...
   "I'm really sorry about all the overheated ladies at your Bunko Party, Mrs. Jones. Y'all are just gonna have to wait'll I get done with my RIDIN' before that a/c unit will be tended to!"
    Understandably, some customers who haven't yet experienced The Mountain Air Difference may not feel that it would be in their best interest to wait for service until my return. To those, I bid 'good luck'.
    To my devoted customers, though... Thank You. and you will be rewarded with proper service and superior customer relations.
     Please call me while I'm out on the road. I will return your call, and maybe we can walk through a solution right over the phone wires. If not, and if waiting isn't an option, I'll have one or another of my associates (read: competitors) get you taken care of in my absence.
      Finally, to hold you off while I amble aimlessly down California's coast, have a look at my journals on the Crazy Guy On A Bike website. You can read some ramblings from an old coast-to-coast ride I did a few years ago, or catch up on all the breathtaking, thrill-a-minute musings on this current ride down the coast. Here's the link:
http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/directory/?o=1&user=carmando
       Hope to see you along for the ride.
                 Adios!

Yes friends, the time has come to get back on the bike for a brief tour of California's central coast. In fact, if you've called for service lately, you've likely been informed that my availability is limited to periods of leg functionality due to several loaded training sessions on Auburn Folsom Road and down on the American River Bike Trail. In fact, I need to eat some breakfast here so I can climb aboard the rolling LazyBoy and knock out 45 miles or so. Once back home, I can let the dogs out to pee, shower up, and get out to Sandy's place in North Auburn to replace an old A/C system.
      Okay... I'll be getting STARTED on replacing that A/C.
                     adios