06.26.07
The Street of Broken Broadband Dreams, Chapter 26
As I sit patiently and wait for my evening Summer class at Napa Valley College (Current Topics In Winemaking — cruel irony is that the “current topic” is “Historic Wineries”), I look out at miles and miles of hillsides in Napa Valley, covered in bright green canopies of grapes. Some Chardonnay, some Cabernet, some Syrah, not much Pinot; a wide expanse of agriculture, all wrapped up in the pretense of wine as some exclusive drink made for stodgy old men with seven-figure incomes. Trust me, nobody ever became truly wealthy by growing grapes.
However, I digress.
Subchapter Two, Continued:
We needed to dig a trench right down the middle of (part of) the road to the vineyard. It wasn’t going to be pretty, either. Just walking the road, you could see the surface of boulders and rocks, almost as if the road had been paved with cobblestones, albeit gigantic ones of all shapes and sizes. Nevertheless, our Solar God thus proclaimed, “get thee a ride-on trencher, and all will come to pass as I have foretold.” Apparently, the kung pao of the walk-behind trencher that Mr. Handy had been using was clearly not spicy enough for the task. So, after much delay (and at least two breakdowns of Mr. Handy’s truck), we had the ride-on trencher delivered.
It took a day for it to break.
The rocks were so big and so tough that even the ride-on trencher was denied. It was so bad, the chain on the trencher came off, shearing two bolts on the arm that holds the chain in place. So, we were left with one option: backhoe. That’s right, time to bring in the heavy artillery. Unfortunately, as Mr. Handy frequently mentioned, using the backhoe meant that we would almost certainly be tearing out a lot of road, because any rocks or boulders that the backhoe lifts out would in most case be wider than the twelve-inch bucket that was on the backhoe.
In truth, I’m glad Mr. Handy was so up front about it. Honestly, I am. Because what my eyes beheld once the trench was dug down the road was nothing short of horrific. I actually thought to myself, however briefly, “oh crap, what have I gotten us into?”
It almost didn’t look like a road, there was so many rocks strewn about on either side of the trench. The trench itself averaged probably 15 inches wide, and it was deep enough that I was down past my knees when I walked in it. Yes, I walked inside the trench.
Happily, the chapter ends on an up note: the pipes and wires were laid into the trench, covered in sand then layered with rocks and road base as backfill. Then we were able to bring in additional road base to help level out the road a bit. In the end, the scar left behind from the trench was analogous to a scar you might see on someone who had been through open heart surgery. Yes, it looked ugly at first sight, but you quickly realize that it had looked much, much worse.
And the work is not done, not nearly. There is still getting all the fittings on the various pipes to join them together. There is ordering and having the fiber optic pulled from the vineyard gate down to the house. There’s burying the rest of the trench. There’s hooking up the electrical and fiber optic at both ends. Only then might we realize the glory of real broadband. I am now absolutely certain that it won’t be real for me until at least a week after the project is fully finished.