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01.May.2006 12:03
economic justice
Trail work and deer chats and stuff.
author: Fredric L. Rice
Trail work in the Angeles National Forest. Photographs attached.
Trail work and deer chats and stuff.
This past week end I tagged along with volunteers from the San Gabriel Mountains Trail Builders who teamed up with student volunteers from Mt. San Antonio College to repair a hiking trail in the Angeles National Forest in the National Park known as Crystal Lake. The trails are maintained in an attempt to limit human erosion and pollution in the National Forest, and -- it's hoped -- maintained trails makes access to the wilderness open to people who will take with them some measure of respect for our woodland areas.
If I may, I'd like to diverge considerably from the way I usually describe how these efforts go. The trail work itself went pretty much as usual. The MT. SAC and SGMTBs volunteers worked a fairly lengthy nature trail very quickly and it was done by lunchtime. After lunch the teams started repair work on another lengthy trail which will require a few more weekends to rough out.
Things started for me a little differently, though, and the rest of the weekend was different than usual since I spent the night up there with my bicycle. I'm going to describe how the weekend went from my perspective and pretty much just note in passing the trail work.
The volunteers gathered at the usual place and Tom let me throw my single speed 30-year-old bicycle into the back of his pickup along with my backpack and my nap sack. We all motored up to the Rincon Fire Station where we acquired all the hand tools we'd need for the day's work.
The first time I'd done this (several months ago, it was) I'd been driven up the long and winding highway up to Crystal Lake -- 23 miles from my house which I usually do on my bicycle -- it felt very strange. Tom had driven me up that time, too, and I commented about how strange it felt to get along up the highway, climbing up through the mountains without any effort at all.
It usually takes me 2.5 sweaty hours to just get to the Fire Station but by motorized vehicle it's something like 15 or 20 minutes, all without effort, and it just feels unusual to be swept along without straining in bipedal locomotion wearing a backpack in the midnight hours. Going up in the car feels like magic though I'm not sure I actually like it even if it is so easy.
When we got our tools we headed up to the Crystal Lake area to the staging area where a guy named Adam was working on establishing a restaurant there -- which will open some day if the USFS ever decides to open the lake. Until then he's there paying taxes, working on the place.
Some of us got a tour of Adam's proto-restaurant. It was still being built but it was already spotlessly clean and scrubbed even though he didn't have customers. I got the impression that some of the walk-in storerooms had been dug into the hillside behind the place. When the place opens, it'll be great -- I'll certainly stop in even though I'll probably not actually stay since the area will probably have crowds of humans when it's open.
Adam asked what I did for real work and I mentioned I worked with computers. That landed me the job of cabling up his computer and installing his printer, checking to make sure that the software he had on it was good stuff -- it was. Later I got to install his FAX machine and test it once before running to catch up with the trail workers who had already started without me. Ha! I could have spent the day installing Internet access and stuff for Adam but I'd come to the area hoping to use the hand saw so that's what I did.
I walked the length of the first trail, sawing dead tree limbs, killed by fire, beetle infestation, or both. At one point the trail disappeared so I turned around, found and asked Ron where the trail was, and we found where the missing trail resumed. The Mt. SAC volunteers did a very good job cleaning that section up and making sure the trail segment won't get lost again.
After the saw was no longer needed on that trail, I walked back up to the staging area and traded it in for a Polaski which I leaned on for the rest of the morning, pretending to be working. (We get paid the same whether we work or not, you see.) The Polaski is kind of an ax with a kind of a hoe on the other side of it, not exactly the right tool for the trail we were working on.
When that trail was done we broke for lunch. Everyone but Tom and I went to the lake for lunch. That's when Adam tried to feed us BBQ chicken -- made right there in front of us, no less -- and a really nice salad that had Greek olives and cheese in it. I don't eat animals, and I don't eat cheese, but I took the wheat bread he offered, absolutely -- great stuff!
After lunch Tom and I went to the lake to see if anyone wanted to get back to work. It took a few minutes but everyone headed to the second trail, the one that was mostly obliterated and needed to be roughed out.
Again I took the saw up -- I took the saw because I _like_ that puppy. I goes through dead and burned wood quickly and cleanly with no real effort, a much easier tool than the McClouds most everyone else was using. Ben and I started trading off on that saw after I started experiencing dizziness -- which I jokingly blamed on the cocaine and heroin but was probably just the Sun and the altitude -- 5600 plus feet -- or was it 6500 feet?
My lightweight GPS says 5642 feet, North 34 degrees, 19.313 by West 117 degrees, 50.023 and that sounds right. Some of the upper ridges are around 7000 feet so that sounds right.
Um, perhaps I should clarify. An aging hippie I might be, and raised and educated in California I might be, but I've never taken any illegal narcotics in my life, never smoked pot or tobacco, and I avoid alcohol, meat, eggs, milk, and cheese. I like my reality straight up and find the beach, desert, and mountains all the high I could ever want.
So blame it on the altitude, yeah, and the hard work: I ain't used to working for a living -- I mean _actual_ work where you have to lift and swing heavy objects, move boulders, dig holes and ditches and _real_ work like that.
When the work was over for the day, most of the crew headed back down the mountain. Mike, Ben, Jannet (spelling?) Tom, um I-can't-remember-his-name, and I drove back to the staging area and from there to the amphitheater that's near the trail head to Pinion Ridge and Soldier Creek Trail. The place is in fairly good shape, needing some cleaning, but the young labor that built the place -- back in FDR's day, I believe it was -- did a great job and there was no actual physical repairs that were needed.
I got my bicycle and stuff out of Tom's pick up and the rest left me there. I checked over my bicycle (You ready for this, Bike? Sure am, chum! Ready when you are!) and walked it through the first part of Soldier Creek Trail where I found a place in the middle of what used to be the trail for my tent. I'd abandoned my bicycle at the little bridge there where Pinion and Soldier diverge (You're not leaving me here, are you, chum? No worries, Bike, I'll be right back.)
The trail there is pretty much gone, and much of it just sloped down into the canyon where a large volume of water went roaring -- music to my ears! -- which I believe will eventually meet up with the river and from there into the cities below. Still, I scraped out a fairly flat area with my shoe and put up my tent right across the trail.
Normally I wouldn't bother with a tent regardless of the weather. I sleep in the rain on a blanket up there in those mountains some times, no problem, but it's the ants I wanted to thwart; them and those DAMN SWAT-THEM-ALL-TO-DEATH! little gnats that fly around my sweaty face trying to suck the salt from my eyes. Vampire gnats!
After I got everything set up, I took stock of my meager possessions: vegetarian beans, some chips that Adam had given me, cans of soda pop, a can of mixed nuts, canteen half full of water, spare clothes I wouldn't need, a tarp I've never used, small flashlight, and "Minds Unleashed," a collection of science fiction stories written in the 1940's, paperback, falling apart. GPS, camera, medical gloves (turn your head and cough, please) and some other first aid stuff, aspirin, batteries, crushed red pepper, salt.
One of the things I worry about is getting a flat tire up there in the mountains miles into the wilderness. I leave the roads much of the time, carrying my bicycle (groan) and carefully treading my way over the next ridge or two to get away from humans and their stink, noise, and stupidity. It's a safety issue.
I've had bullets impacting my bedding before because I'd camped too close to the road so now I make it a requirement to get out of the line of fire. People -- if you can call them that -- drive up to where the road is closed, walk up the road a short ways in the middle of the night, and just pepper the hills and canyons with bullets some nights. Rambo wannabe males trying to be real men, perhaps - who knows what motivates them?
Way back at Indian Springs Air Force Base (I was never a dues paying member) we were taught what to do in that situation: don't shoot back, don't yell out, quietly and quickly scramble to cover and hunker down, and if possible call in the jets to napalm those suckers. People shoot into the hills just to hear the BANG or to fantasize about family members or co-workers they're shooting, not a care in the world that people camp, hike, and bike in those canyons at night and there may be people they're shooting towards. If they don't know you're in there, you don't tell them by calling out, "cease fire!" Many times they're drunk or on crack cocaine and you don't want to call out and _focus_ their fire on you.
This time, of course, nobody was around but Adam about a mile away, safely tucked into his bed, perhaps, dreaming of customers that'll never come - like the hotdog stand owner on Mars in Ray Bradbury's "Martian Chronicles." Because I leave the road and carry my bicycle tiptoe among the brush, I worry about getting flats. I turn my bicycle upside-down when I stop, but that's no guarantee that I won't get flats, and I drop the poor thing often enough.
So after I set up my camp, I walked back to my bicycle to check it out. (How're ya doing, Bike? I feel fine. Want to check you out to make sure. Fine by me, chum! Rear tire's nicely round and firm. Glad you noticed, chum! Yes, well, let's check your front. Yes, front nicely rock hard. Always, chum, always! That's good because I'm going to have to leave you here for the night. What? There're bears in these woods! Friendly bears, Bike, friendly bears. Think Christopher Robin. If you say so. I do and good night, Bike.)
The creek itself was actually two streams that combined, and I was at its fork. The left stream was mostly underground but came up to flow over boulders before dropping into a plunge pool about two feet deep with a sandy bottom -- a good place for gold panning and if I'd of thought about it, I probably could have gotten a couple of gold flakes. The other stream had a much higher volume and formed a fairly large waterfall.
After drinking about a gallon of the larger stream, I shuck off all of my clothes -- photographs available upon request! -- and climbed up against the rocks and just let the cold, cold water soak in. It was great after -- oh, maybe five hours of actual hard work with the trail builder volunteers. The loud babble from the river pretty much drowned out any other noise that might have been made in the forest, and it certainly canceled out the endless jet aircraft noise-stink that's so difficult to get away from.
There was some rocks one could sit upon if one didn't mind some discomfort, and I figured that if I'm taking a shower in several million people's drinking water, it can't be worse than what our fellow woodland creatures and furry little forest friends dump and squirt into these streams every day.
There's a point -- you must have reached it yourself at times -- when you're resting naked in a freezing cold stream in the middle of the National Forest, eyes closed, letting the water pummel and shiatsu you to sleep when you decide you'll never go back to civilization. "Right here's good enough," you've probably told yourself. And if you're as vulgar as I am, you might even add, "Fuck civilization" aloud as you sat there.
Slowly, gradually, as your ass goes numb followed by your arms, your feet, then your legs, you've probably realized that maybe you can't just sit there for the rest of your life -- unless you _want_ to freeze to death, the unsightly remains to be found a week or so later, contented smile on your face and no clothes on.
I settled in to read at around 6:00 p.m. and it didn't start to get dark until around 8:00 p.m. or so. It had just started to get dark enough to need a light to read by when I noticed someone at the tent window looking in. I looked up and said aloud, "Hey! A sheep!" The doe wiggled her ears and said, "Very funny."
We chatted a bit and I got some photographs through the screen -- which I hope turn out (they didn't.) "Sorry about being in the middle of your walkway, deer," I told her. "It's okay so long as you're not going to eat me." I laughed and told her that I don't eat animals but, you know, I _am_ kind of human and you -- being a deer and all -- should fear humans. "You don't look dangerous," she told me. "We're all dangerous," I told her, "even those of us who don't eat meat. Part of being human, deer."
Since she decided to visit, I got out of the tent so we could talk better. She walked to the top of the ridge and posed for some more photographs while staring at me -- though with the Sun setting behind her, they'll probably turn out worse than those taken through the tent screen (they turned out fine.) We'll have to see how they turn out (I told you already: they turned out fine.)
"Doe, a deer, a female deer" I sang loudly. She wiggled her ears again and asked, "Are you in respiratory distress? Should I call a doctor?" "I was singing," I told her. "Is that what that was?" "Hell, music critics everywhere, even in the forest. I'll have you know," I told her, "that what you call 'respiratory distress' is profound musical talent, something you'd know if you had culture -- and opposable thumbs." When she stopped laughing she told me it had been nice to stop and chat for a while but dinner was probably waiting so she had to be going.
The whole forest area has been pretty much closed to humans for the past four years because of the fires and for other reasons. The deer up there -- most of them, any way -- have never seen humans up close. Humans aren't supposed to hunt other animals up there -- but you know humans! -- but they're not hunted because it's an effort to hike or bike up there so criminals hunting deer doesn't happen. So this one saw the tent blocking the path and decided to investigate, saw me reading, and decided to stop a while and chat with the new - and freakishly bipedal! -- woodland creature. Maybe she recognized a fellow vegetarian, come to think of it.
A half-hour later a squirrel come through and started scolding me -- screaming actually -- speaking in French. He started yelling over on the right hand side of the trail, up in the trees, and continued screaming French at me while he worked his way through the branches above my tent to the trees on the left side of the trail. Man, he was pissed about something. He reminded me of a guy working at a police vehicle impound lot I met some 30 years ago, utterly incomprehensible and spewing at high speed.
After about 15 minutes of this, I sat up and yelled, "I don't speak French!" which caused him to go silent. The guy eventually stalked off -- quietly, thankfully, and I didn't hear from him again that night.
Dinner was a can of cold beans with corn chips - chips donated by Adam -- tossed on top, crushed red pepper sprinkled heavily through out the whole mess. There was also a can of diet soda of some kind and about another gallon of water from the creek. (Adam had also given me something called "Flaming Hot Cheetos" or however it's spelled, but I couldn't eat it because it had cheese culture in it. I in turn donated that to a long line of ants further down the trail. "With complements from Adam," I told them as I watched them start to carve up and carry away the stuff. "Snack responsibly," I added since it was something I'd read on the side of my can of mixed nuts, not knowing what it meant, feeling that maybe the ants would find the admonishment meaningful even if I didn't. Snack responsibly? Why, so nobody gets killed?)
I have to constantly remind myself that I'm not in a Stephen King novel. You probably do also and probably because of the same things. Around 10:00 p.m. or so the fog started to drift in, climbing up the canyon, muting ever so slightly the roaring of the creek to my left.
There are _things_ in the fog. Things that aren't in the wilderness when the fog isn't there to hide them also. The fog settled, smothered, engulfed down over my tent and I, and with it came the certainty that those _things_ that hide in the fog were out there, waiting, looking for humans who they can fly out of the fog on to, splatting against their backs and laying their eggs in their unfortunate victims before moving on in search of other incubators.
Those are the round _things_ that come with the fog, you might already know. And if you know that, you probably also know about the rectangular _things_ that also come in out of the fog, flying in on short wings, things that like to attach themselves to your neck, enjoying the ride while you hop around screaming, "Get it offa me! Get it offa me!"
Those triangular _things_ suck the bone marrow out of people through their necks, leaving behind an unsightly quivering pile of disgusting remains that try to stand up and run only it can't because most of its bones have been sucked dry and it's too late to try to run any way. No point trying to run after the fact, is there?
When the fog descended, the anxiety of being attacked or otherwise snuck up upon by the fog _things_ settled in with it. There are bears in those mountains and I had food -- at least the remains of canned beans that I only now thought I should have rinsed out in the stream least the bears smell it. When I once again realized that I wasn't in a Stephen King novel, the anxiety lifted even as the fog got even heavier.
That night I dreamed one of my many reoccurring dreams. No, not the one with Michael Jackson in it where I wake up screaming, the one with Drew Barrymore in it, back doing that ole setting buildings and people on fire when they pissed her off thing. I'd had Stephen King on my mind just lately (snicker) so one of my favorite book's primary character -- Charlie -- had come walking in from the Id.
I won't disturb you with the rest of the dream. It would... well it would disturb you. Some where in all of it Hal from the movie "2001: A space Odyssey" put in a cameo appearance and kept saying, "I can't let you do that, Dave." (Ha! Try and stop me, Hal! Watch this! That's disgusting, Dave.)
In the morning I had another can of beans and corn chips, then packed things up. I carried my backpack over to my bike (How ya doing, Bike? Fine, great to see you, chum! Mind of I feel your tires again, Bike? I'd appreciate it if you did, chum! Still tight, I see. Always, chum, always.) Then I went back for the tent and bedding, walking around the place to make sure I didn't leave any sign that I'd been there.
Back at the staging area I dumped my empty cans into the Dumpster, wondering if I should stick around and set up Adam's Internet access. I didn't see anyone around, though, so I got on my bike and started rolling. I also started singing, "My dog Sam eats purple flowers, we ain't got much but what we got's ours, diggin' the rain and the snow and the bright sunshine." Kind of a fitting song, I'd thought. (It's _so_ stunningly nice up here, and I was heading back to the stink of the city, so there's usually a song trying to escape.)
The lake area is around mile marker 37 or 36 along Highway 39 which used to go on further up all the way to Angeles Crest Highway (number 2.) I rolled down hill to the gated entrance and stopped to chat with four bikers who were resting there after their trip up (yikes! All the bikers up here (except for me!) wear spandex, helmets, and gloves. They look like freakishly bipedal insects.)
If the restaurant would ever open up, they could have gone up and had some nice avocado and bean sprout sandwiches (Oh, yummy!) or something with iced tea, maybe. About 100 yards down hill were another two heading up (spandex, check!) and about a half mile later, another two heading up (spandex again? Yep!)
It's a shame the restaurant isn't open otherwise all of us could have had a cold avocado vegetarian sandwich. I'd like firm avocado slices dipped in lemon juice, please, placed between toasted sourdough bread with mustard, sprouts, tomato, and salt -- a side of peppers, please. Oh man, and after that, another one, please, this time with sour pickle slices, if you have them.
Coming down hill I reached speeds just touching on 50 MPH according to the GPS I was holding, my bicycle shaking because the rims aren't exactly circular any more. From the lake all the way down to around mile marker 26 it's all down hill and since the road is closed to motorized vehicles around mile marker 29 one can work up a high rate of speed -- and just hope that nobody's coming up. (Or, more accurately, just don't _care_ if anyone's coming up.)
Some of the trip down was spent at high speed but I like to stop and sample all of the water that flows from the hillsides that either go under the highway or follow the highway a bit before they go underground. The water up there -- all the different streams -- taste differently though most of them still have the charcoal taste of the fires that came through. There are streams that are muddy which you can pick up again a bit further down that are now crystal clear and _so_ good.
Now one of these days I'm going to splatter myself on that highway coming down like that, no shirt, no helmet, bugs splaying themselves to death against my teeth as I grin a happy grin singing a happy song wondering if today's the day I'm going to kill myself. Lots of people do on this highway though they're almost always in cars, drunk or racing other morons, all of whom, I must suggest, might very well deserve to die for their dangerous, irresponsible stupidity.
What's that you say? I'm just as stupid for not wearing a helmet, for rolling down out of control at 50 miles an hour with no shirt on? Well yes, but _my_ willful and irresponsible stupidity doesn't put any other driver in danger. I've been up there when five people have died, missing getting killed by one of them by less than 30 minutes as he came ramping off the road into the canyon and the water below when he'd been racing his school buddy down the highway in Daddy's car. I got there as the helicopters from air search and recovery were trying to figure out just how far he'd ramped off (it was a good distance; they didn't find the vehicle that day.)
I may kill myself biking down the highway some day, sure, but I won't take anyone else out with me, not like some of these people in cars do. By far the greater danger is car drivers, many of them drunk before noon, most of them drunk after midnight -- with me taking to the side canyons when I hear them coming, making sure I'm out of their way, climbing up or down the embankment in the dark as needed.
Around the 30 mile marker something in my rear axle went BANG and started grinding -- which slowed me down considerably. I stopped in the middle of the road (still a mile above the barricade) by dragging my left shoe along the highway until something in my show went BANG also and my shoe shredded, then I examined the damage. My old bike -- 30 years old -- has the old Bendix coaster break and the break bar that's clamped to the frame had bent in half, deforming the frame where the bar is clamped to it.
Thing was, the wheel continued to spin with only a bit of grinding and squeaking, and honestly I wouldn't need the breaks so long as everyone else got the frocken Hell out of my way for the rest of the trip down. I got back on (after picking up parts of my shoe) and biked over the barricade at full speed, ramping off the mound of dirt that's on the left, coming back down with a heavy crunch which probably didn't help my axle any.
This is with a full backpack and a tent with bedding roped to the handlebars so there's considerable weight on the axles.
No problem, though, I continued to roll on all the way to the Rincon Fire Station where I stopped and talked with the two dogs there that live with the professional trail builders, Marvin and his crew. His crew had done the Bear Creek trail and I'd stopped along the way to check it out because there was a USFS Jeep at the trailhead. (I walked the trail a bit but didn't see the Freddie until I was back on my bike and only then I saw him just as he crested a ridge and hiked out of view, like Charles Bronson in that movie in Alaska. You know the one.)
I stopped by the Elmer pen and was amazed at the number of Republicans puttering around in there. I mean the place was FULL of Elmers and there was a line heading back down the road, all of them waiting to get in to the pen. There's not much room for them because the water is up high. They would pay their entry fee, putter around in their little pen, air conditioning on FULL, pretending they're great desert explorers or something.
I had to laugh. Down below along the river bottom the USFS has signs that talk about the "great off road mountain explorer adventure" that could be had by puttering back and forth down there at the river bottom, and I have no doubt that all of them -- every one -- believe they're manly, subduing Mother Nature, all that happy male wannabe horseshit. Do I hate them? Oh, yes, a little, but not much because I'd expect that their upbringing involved Tonka Trucks and stuff -- whereas mine was spent at the beach nearly every day, body surfing, eating sunflower seeds, stepping through tide pools and stuff.
On a down hill section after East Fork Bridge my rear axle seized up and my chain broke, slowing me down even more and causing me to have to go back and pick it up off the road - along with most of the contents of my right shoe this time (I purchase cheap shoes, you might have noticed.) With the axle sprocket probably predominately wedded to the hub now I'll have to probably find another wheel, alas, before I can bike again. So now not only was my bike's break gone but I couldn't pedal on the rare flat section, nor could I get to up speed on the down hill sections unless they were considerably down hill (then there'd better not be anyone in my way 'cause I'm coming down full speed, no breaks, no shoes left, so move it, pal!)
Since I wasn't traveling quickly much any more I took my hat out of my backpack and started wearing it, something I should have done before setting out because I was pretty badly sunburned by the time I got down. The hat itself is a dead cow -- a section of skin from a dead cow, any way. Or maybe I should say "presumed dead" because there's always a chance the poor thing survived the operation.
Around mile marker 23 there's a ravine that has a creek in it that runs all year around though only during these months do I think it's reasonably safe to drink it if I have a canteen full of water. When I'm out of water I'll suck water off of mud flats and I probably get away with it because I've done it for at least 20 years and my immune system kills everything that would normally give humans, um, er, how do I put this, a disgustingly runny problem the next day or more.
Since I was on foot I stopped and checked it out, then walked down to the bottom -- choked with trees and brush -- and checked out the plunge pool. At that point the pool is about four or five feet deep (another good place for gold panning) and I've used it before in the height of Summer to cool off -- after hiding my bicycle since it's only about 30 feet from the highway. This time I topped off my canteen, drank about 40, 50 gallons of the stuff, then filled my maybe-dead cow skin hat which I then put on my sunburned head.
The rest of the trip down was uneventful -- hell, all of it was boring, wasn't it? One thing I noticed was how all the people on bicycles wave or give a thumbs-up to each other. The same for hikers -- there's a camaraderie among the people who utilize these mountains for healthy exercise and enjoyment and we all seem to have a great disdain for the ones that come to beshit and befoul the air with their fumes and their noise just because.
It was great to have the whole mountain top to myself, a privilege that I savored. The next time up it'll be National Trails Day, I believe it's called, and there should be about 300 people around the lake up there doing cleanup work. I'll need to fix my bike and get new shoes for that.
add a comment on this article
File attach
01.May.2006 12:53
Fredric L. Rice
Let's see if I can get that ZIP file attached here.
01.May.2006 18:34
Fredric L. Rice
Here's the photographs
01.May.2006 19:08
I couldn't get them uploaded to Indy so I put them here.
add a comment on this article

subset: commoncrawl


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I'm going to share a story with you. Right here in Bloomington, Indiana, a woman was out taking an evening stroll when she passed a man on the B-Line Trail. She politely smiled at him and continued on her way. The man then turned around and began to follow her, so she walked faster. Finally, he ran at her in a way that made her feel threatened (obviously), so she took off and eventually lost him.
When she got to a safe space, she called the police to report it. The police would surely want to know the description of a man who was going around and attacking women, right? As it turns out, no. Because when she explained to the police she smiled at the guy, they told her, "That was your first mistake; you can't smile at some people."
Um, what?
As women, we're sent so many mixed messages about how to behave. How many times have you been in public and been told by some complete stranger to smile? I have—and every woman I have asked has said she's been told to as well. Hillary Clinton was raked over the coals on the campaign trail last year because she didn't smile enough on television. But when it comes to our safety, smiling is a big no-no. Apparently smiling makes us targets of unwanted attention and invites violence.
Don't Buy It
Let me say something very important: Being friendly never justifies harassment or violence. Heck, even flirting with a stranger doesn't justify any type of forceful or distressing behavior—but that's a lesson that seems to be lost on a lot of people.
You should be able to smile or not smile as much or as little as you want, to whomever you want, without worrying it will end in violence, stalking, or harassment. The idea that a smile is somehow an invitation is a product of rape culture and misogyny because it teaches men that women are available for the taking and anything a woman does (or doesn't do) is somehow an invitation. In a rape culture (our culture), a woman displaying any sign of friendliness, kindness, sexiness, or appreciation has apparently come to mean that she has made some type of promise of her energy, body, continued interest, or time to the man in question.
To that I say, hold the damn phone.
I don't want to live in a society that teaches women to be so afraid of potential encounters with strangers that we don't interact or even acknowledge one another. I also don't want to live in a society where I'm not free to express my genuine emotions—and that's the whole crux of the problem. Saying that smiling at a stranger means they have some claim to you but then also being expected to smile at perfect strangers when we don't want to because we're women and are supposed to be friendly and open just doesn't jibe.
Society has a Split Personality
So, what's the answer to this incredibly complicated problem? If we're all truly going to be invested in fighting oppression, then we have to be invested in the people moving through this crazy world with us. When we don't recognize each other, we're less likely to step in and fight for each other. And if that's the case, then what's all this social justice fighting really for?
We avoid addressing oppression through repression and avoidance. Smile, don't smile—it's all the same in this system. That doesn't mean you have to drink the Shame Kool-Aid or be a victim, but it does mean that we have to recognize the fact that we live in a culture so deeply rooted in protecting privilege that we blame the oppressed for their oppression.
One of the worst things about rape culture is that it has convinced people that they shouldn't help a stranger or that people are on their own and must take care of themselves. That's where victim-blaming comes from—and that's the culture that silence, disassociation, and fear keep supporting.
If you truly want to be revolutionary, then now is the time to practice courage and educate yourself about what we can do to make a change. If you have the ability to reach out to others as an educator, then do it. This is how we make a community safer—because people can't be expected to learn if there's no one willing to teach them.
My advice: Do what your third-grade teacher once told you—be a part of the solution, not a part of the problem. Reach out of your comfort zone and help to create a better world for everyone. And do it with a smile on your face. Or not.


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MERIDEN — A car dealership on North Broad Street is a "total loss" after a fire over the weekend burned through the building and a dozen cars, authorities said.
No one was in the building at the time of the fire and there were no reported injuries.
The fire at Five Star Cars dealership, 1801 N. Broad St., was reported around midnight and extinguished about 2 a.m. Saturday.
The fire started inside the building and spread to 11 cars parked outside, Fire Marshal Steve Trella said. The cause under investigation.
The roof collapsed and the building is a total loss, Trella said. A total of 12 cars were damaged.
Other cars at the business may have smoke damage, Trella said. Half of the cars damaged were owned by the dealership, while the other half were in for repairs.
Lauren Simmons, a spokeswoman for GRJH Inc., the owner of the building, said the company is waiting to get information from Trella and had no further comment.
Assaad Sakr, owner of the dealership, could not be reached for comment on Monday.
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It's more complex and expensive than ever to deliver seamless web experiences to any customer on any device, anywhere. Images are becoming the top obstacle to delivering high performing, responsive sites. View this infographic to see how you can solve the image management problem.
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It is advisable for children to have their first dental visit by their first birthday. This visit is as much for young parents as it is for the child. Subsequent visits are built on the success of this visit.
We do not use negative and fearful words during this or any other visit and we request that parents also do the same.
Should any dental work be needed, it is explained and options presented and discussed.
Each child is special and so, unique. Hence each treatment plan is tailored to the child's individual needs.
Each child is precious.


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Category Archives: Totally Random
How it's Made: Butterfly Knives
My Friend Rufus the Tortoise
Save the environment, shave with a straight razor
Knife Selection, Knife Sharpening and Shaving with a Straight Razor
Hot to tie a Bowline Knot
United Church of Bacon
John Wick vs The Batman
John Wick is not The Batman.
John Wick is who you call
to kill the mother fucking Batman.
John Wick And Batman Throw Down In Great Fan-Made Trailer https://t.co/LNXhsEd7P4 pic.twitter.com/5x9C9Ol3sX
— GeekTyrant (@GeekTyrant) August 28, 2018
Bendy Straws Matter
Please RT.
The plastic bendy straw was invented to help people be able to drink, and access nutrition, and medication.
Here is a chart showing why #PlasticStraws are the only option #disabled people who rely on them have.
When ppl ask about alternatives, please show them this. pic.twitter.com/5wX2VPHeH7
— 💖💄 Aoife ♿💜 (@Aoiferocksitout) July 27, 2018
The difference between Black Bears and Grizzly Bears. Read carefully.
The difference between Black Bears and Grizzly Bears. Read carefully.
If you aren't laughing, read it again.
You're welcome!
Thanks to @dieastra for showing me this!


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Vetiver (Vetiveria zizanoides) has a heavy, earthy fragrance similar to patchouli with a touch of lemon. Vetiver oil is psychologically grounding, calming, and stabilizing. One of the oils that is highest in sesquiterpenes, vetiver was studied by Dr. Terry Friedmann for improving children's behavior. Vetiver may help when coping with stress and to recover from emotional trauma and shock. Vetiver has an approximate ORAC of 742,792 (TE/L). TE/L is expressed as micromole Trolox equivalent per liter.
Size: 5ml
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Wholesale: $20.75
Used For:
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Young Living Therapeutic Grade™ vetiver essential oil (Vetiveria zizanoides)
How To Use
For dietary, aromatic, or topical use. When using as a supplement, dilute one drop in 4 fl. oz. of liquid such as goat's or rice milk.
Possible skin sensitivity. If pregnant or under a doctor's care, consult your physician.


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Maritime New Zealand says it is not holding out hope a missing fisherman will be found after he disappeared from a Sealord boat of the coast of Cape Palliser.
Patahi Rewi Hawaikirangi Kawana Jnr was reported missing when he didn't report for duty on the FV Otakou at 11:30am on Thursday, Stuff reports.
He was last seen on board around 50 minutes earlier and is now presumed dead.
"The estimated time for a person in the water in that area and without a life jacket has long passed," Maritime New Zealand said in a statement.
Initially two helicopters and some boats had searched the area where Mr Kawana had gone missing, but Maritime NZ suspended its search at 8pm on Thursday and Sealord stopped looking early on Friday morning.
The Maritime NZ search will not resume unless there is any new information.
It's believed to be the first time in Sealord's 25-year-long history a crew member has gone missing. The company has now launched an internal investigation, Stuff reports.
Mr Kawana's family is still hoping for his safe return.
"Dear lord please bring my grandson home to us luv (sic) forever my boy," his grandmother wrote on Facebook.


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By MAOPS Executive Director Brian Bowles
For the past several years, I have tried to educate MAOPS members about the regulatory process. This is the mysterious process that usually leads to the question all of us ask at some point, "Where did that idea come from?" The regulatory process is such a mystery, because it happens behind closed doors in rooms filled with governor appointees who think they know what is best for us. Whereas, legislation is difficult to pass, having to traverse the two chambers of the state legislature (the House and Senate), the regulatory process is far less transparent. The good news is that there is transparency. The bad news is that it's difficult to follow and most citizens are unaware of the process or that they can have a major impact if the process is used. Even more so, they can have a major impact if they SUPPORT organizations that follow the regulatory process closely, like we do at MAOPS.
The Regulatory Process in Action
MAOPS is always looking for people to help monitor the government. For those interested in following the regulatory process, click here to access the Missouri Register. You can register to receive email updates when rules are proposed by agencies. You can even filter the agencies most applicable or of most interest to you. For physicians, the following agencies are good ones to follow:
If you have any questions about the regulatory process, how to get move involved or anything in between, I'd be happy to visit with you at your convenience. Please call the MAOPS Central Office Team at (573) 634-3415, or email me at email@example.com you!
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The Missouri Association of Osteopathic Physicians and Surgeons (MAOPS) was founded in 1897 in Kirksville, Mo. – the birthplace of osteopathic medicine – as the professional organization for physicians holding Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine (D.O.) degrees.
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Former New York City mayor and billionaire Michael Bloomberg promised he'd let the nation know by this month if he'd run for president as a self-funded independent. In part, he's seen the left-wing threat diminish with the Democratic nomination all but certainly belonging to Hillary Clinton.
All but gone are hopes that 2016 would see at least one Jewish contender for the presidency. In a race where the Republican Party is torn apart by both Donald Trump and the radical Tea Party and the center of the Democratic Party is challenged by an open socialist, Bloomberg threatened to jump in as a voice of both sanity and financial prudence. There are more than a few reasons why this is just not meant to be. So let's review:
1) He can't win
Not being a national politician, he doesn't really have a large constituency outside of New York City. In general, big city mayors don't go on to national elected office (Sen. Dianne Feinstein is a notable exception), and no New York City mayor has. A lot of this has to do with the fact that Bloomberg's successes are in a unique corner of the country that much of so-called flyover country doesn't relate to. Also, a mayor's success is largely judged by an ability to manage direct services to people. A president has to prove an ability to form political alliances in order to enact policies and have them carried out at the state level.
2) He'd hurt Clinton, not Trump
He'd spoil the race, but not in the way he'd want. In New York specifically, he would be popular with moderate Republicans repulsed by Trump and could win over pro-corporate Democrats and centrists who fondly remember his mayoralty and are obsessed with independence and post-partisanship. Bloomberg could deliver the blue state to Trump.
3) Trump would own him in debates
Bloomberg is brilliant at rhetorical battle, but he doesn't have the charisma or showmanship to battle with the bellicose Trump. Bloomberg can be a rich bully in his own way — while mayor he snapped at reporters who brought up inconvenient questions at press conferences — but Trump is someone who is his own financial size. Trump would welcome the fight and lay into the ex-mayor in a way Bloomberg hasn't experienced, and couldn't respond to in kind.
4) He's not different enough from Clinton
There really isn't enough policy difference between him and Clinton to stake out a unique position. Sure, he's a Democrat who became a Republican out of convenience, only to become independent when he could afford to, but the ability for him to do that shows how much grey area there is between corporate centrists and establishment Democrats like Clinton.
5) He has skeletons in the closet
Bloomberg likes to paint a very clean image of himself, someone above machine politics. But a presidential campaign would allow any candidate to bring up the dark spots of his mayoralty, including a botched city employee time-keeping scandal that resulted in indictments of contractors and millions of taxpayer dollars wasted. If he tried to attack Trump on his anti-Islam rhetoric, it would ring hollow since he oversaw a massive police surveillance project on the city's Muslim community. And his failed attempt to ban large sodas? Yeah, try that one in Middle America.
6) No one likes Wall Street
Well, not no one, but not enough voters. And while Bloomberg isn't a financier, his wealth comes from selling machinery to an insulated sector that flips money around at the expense of Main Street. Like being a New Yorker, this would seem foreign to too many voters.
7) He'd hate being president
The mayor of New York City has a lot of unchecked power and can shape policies concerning government services without the consent of the city council. This solidified his reputation as a good businessman who brought common sense management to the day-to-day operations of city government. He couldn't really do that in the White House, having to deal with intransigence in Congress and world leaders with their own agendas, not to mention the Supreme Court. As a CEO and mayor who is used to getting what he wants when he wants it, this job would be no fun for him.
8) Unforeseen consequences
A three-way race could result in no candidate getting enough electoral votes to claim victory, resulting in a constitutional dilemma we've yet to experience.
The justice of there not being a path forward for Bloomberg is this: We keep hearing about how a great CEO should be CEO of the nation. But a nation isn't a company. Citizens are not products, tax revenue isn't profit and public servants aren't vessels of surplus value. Disposing of the Bloomberg presidency myth helps dispose of this silly notion, too.


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Seth: "The ego at any give time in this life is simply the part of the inner self that surfaces in physical reality; a group of characteristics that the inner self uses to solve various problems."
"Each of you exists in other realities and other dimensions, and the self that you call yourself is but a small portion of your entire identity."
"Within the self that you know is the prime identity, the whole self. This whole self has lived many lives and adopted many personalities. Personality may be somewhat molded by the circumstances that are created for it by the whole self but the prime identity uses the resulting experience."
"Your prime identity is an energy essence personality which is composed of energy gestalts. As each individual consciousness grows, out of its experience it forms other 'personalities' or fragments of itself. These fragments are entirely independent as to action and decision, while constantly in communication with the whole self of which they are a part. These 'fragments' themselves grow, develop, and may form their own entities or 'personality gestalts.'"
"You have constant contact with the other parts of your whole self, but your ego is so focused upon physical reality and survival within it that you do not hear the inner voices. No individuality is ever lost. It is always in existence."
"There is an inner ego, an inner self which organizes 'unconscious' material. As the outer ego manipulates within the physical environment, so the inner ego or self organizes and manipulates within inner reality."
"It is this inner self, out of massive knowledge and the unlimited scope of its consciousness, that forms the physical world and provides the stimuli to keep the outer ego at the job of awareness. The inner self organizes, initiates, projects and controls the transformation of psychic energy into matter and objects."
"The individual inner self, through constant effort of great intensity, cooperates with other entities like itself to form and maintain the physical reality that you know."
"The inner self has a virtually infinite reservoir from which to draw knowledge and experience. All kinds of choices are available, and the diversity of physical matter is a reflection of this deep source and variety."
"Having determined upon physical reality as a dimension in which it will express itself, the inner self, first of all, takes care to form and maintain the physical basis upon which all else must depend --the properties of the earth that can be called the natural ones."
"It is the daily ego's ignorance and limited focus that makes it view so-called unconscious activity as chaotic. The waking ego (dealing with physical reality) cannot know all the unconscious material directly. The daily ego is simply not conscious enough to be able to contain the vast knowledge that belongs to the inner conscious self from which it springs. The outer ego is spoon-fed, being given only those feelings and emotions, only that data, that it can handle. This data is presented in a highly specialized manner, usually in terms of information picked up by the physical senses."
"The inner self is not only conscious, but conscious of itself, both as an individuality and as an individuality that is a part of all other consciousness. It is continually aware of both this apartness and unity-with. The outer ego is not continuously aware of this fact. It frequently forgets its 'whole' nature."
"When it becomes swept up in a strong emotion it seems to lose itself. When it most vigorously maintains its sense of individuality, it is no longer aware of unity-with. If the ego were aware of the constant barrage of telepathic communications that do impinge upon it, it would have a most difficult time retaining a sense of identity."
"You must learn to listen to the voice of the inner self and work with it. You may also simply ask the inner self to make the answers to problems available on a conscious basis."
"Now, if you realize that you create your physical reality through your own thoughts and desires, then you have learned the most important aspects of reality. This is what you have been setting out to do in your other lives, in your past existences. The realization of these truths nullifies any so-called "debts" from other lives. When you realize this and act upon it, there is no reason for you to come back here again unless you want to. Any of your difficulties in past lives were caused because you did not realize these basic truths. Your reincarnational pasts can help you if you know of them. . .only if they make these truths evident to you, only if you learn from them. Otherwise, they exist within you subconsciously--and unconsciously, in any case."
"Now, each of you is a part of All That Is, highly individual and unique, like no other; and that like no-other-ness will never be taken from you. You will not melt into some great golden bliss in which your characteristics will disappear. You will not be gobbled by a super-god. On the other hand, you will continue to exist; you will continue to be responsible for the way in which you use energy; you will expand in ways now impossible for you to understand. You will learn to command energy of which you now do not know. You will realize that you are more than you realize you are now, but you will not lose the state of which you are now aware."
"And regardless of the fact of reincarnation, and regardless of probable selves, the unique self that you now call "yourself" has eternal validity, even though the memories that you cannot now consciously recall will be yours in their entirety. And physical life in a reincarnational self is not some chaos thrust upon you, some evil from which you must shortly hope to escape. It is a particular reality in which you have chosen to know your existence, in which you have chosen to develop yourself; and again, it is indeed a system like no other system--a unique and dear and beloved portion of reality in which you have chosen to flourish for a while. And in denying it, again, you deny the reality of experience."
"In other terms, you will leave this system for others, but there will be a portion of you yet, no matter how many eons pass, that remembers a spring evening and a smell of autumn air And those things will always be with you when you want them. You make your own flesh and your own world, as now en masse you form the evening. These are creations of yours, and of your kind. They are not prisons to be escaped from."
"The whole self is involved not only in this reality, but in other realities. The whole self sends a portion of itself into various realities. These portions of the whole self are to learn to materialize as best they can the strength and energy as they know it in whatever camouflage they find themselves. The whole self gives you, therefore, a responsibility--and it leaves it mainly up to you."
"The whole self gives you help at times, for within you is the knowledge of your connection with the whole self. And you are never given a chore more difficult than your abilities [can handle]."
"When the artist paints a painting, you can look at it and say, "Ah, the artist was in a certain frame of mind," or, " Look at the dull colors and the dreary landscape," or, "Look at the wild colors and the fantastic forms," or, "See, there is no form, and yet there is marvelous vitality." And so are each of you artists, and you create the world that you know. And when you look at the world, you know that you can say, "Look, this is what I have created! And if you do not like what you see, then there is no point in ripping apart the painting, or ripping apart the framework of your life. Instead, you change your pigments. And in this case, your pigments are your thoughts and your imagination. And then you change your painting."
"You must image that within yourself--for this is the truth--there is a stronger and more powerful self, a larger self. And when the "little" self says, "I am afraid, and I will make excuses," you must imagine the larger self saying, "I am strong. I will not allow the smaller self to make excuses. There is no need for them." You must identify with this larger portion of yourself."
"There are no divisions to the self. Those that you experience are illusions. Yet, those illusions are lovely. They are creative. They are valid experiences of reality."
"You are over concerned, however, about the nature of your own individuality, and afraid to open up to the greater areas of your own being. You are all of your selves at once. The aviator is not swallowed or lost or annihilated or betrayed or forgotten."
"For the inner self knows who it is. The inner self knows the personalities that constantly emerge from its own being. And again, you are simply, understandably, trying to define the nature of creativity, and worried lest your own individuality be lost within it. And such is not the case."
"We will lead you gently into the greater areas of your own being, in which your seeming contradictions vanish in the light of your own knowledge."
"You listen to these words that are spoken in English, yet beneath the words rises a knowledge that is inherent in your own being. Let that knowledge then joyfully rise, and when the words that I speak reach you, then will indeed the verbs and the nouns, the vowels and the syllables, turn into birds of knowledge that fly out of your own skulls and through the dreams of your night time, and transform your days."
"If I do no more than this, let me be an echo for the energy of your own being and remind you of your ancient and ever new knowledge. Emerge out of the knowledge of your selves, and translate what you know into the world of flesh."


text:
What is Transparency International School on Integrity?
Transparency International School on Integrity is an annual state-of-the-art anti-corruption and accountability training for future leaders. The upcoming School will take place during 8-14 July, 2019 in Vilnius, Lithuania. The School exposes its participants to the latest developments in the field of anti-corruption and accountability and offers real opportunities to try and implement their ideas in practice.Read More


text:
Several top officers and directors at UAL Corp. including CEO Glenn Tilton are jettisoning all or much of their holdings in the United Airlines parent and donating the proceeds to unspecified charities, according to a company spokeswoman and reports filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC). Five UAL insiders sold almost 75,000 shares at prices between $1.18 and $1.30 a share in early November, according to SEC filings. In addition, Mr. Tilton was expected late Friday to report donating 15,138 of his 90,138 shares to a charity, according to the spokeswoman.
UAL execs unload bulk of holdings
Nearly a year after Elk Grove Township-based UAL filed for bankruptcy protection, its stock is still actively traded in the over-the-counter market, currently at more than three times the low of 45 cents a share hit last August. The company has stated that its equity has "little or no value" and is "highly likely" to be canceled under any plan of reorganization.
The spokeswoman declined to confirm whether the transactions will generate tax losses or charitable deductions for the executives.
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text:
303E CR Mini Hydraulic Excavator
The Cat® 303E CR Mini Hydraulic Excavator delivers high performance, durability and versatility in a compact design to help you work in a variety of applications.
Product Details
|Net Power
|17.5 kW
|Engine Model
|Cat C1.3
|Gross Power - ISO 14396
|18.5 kW
|Cat C1.3 engine meets U.S. EPA Tier 4 Final/EU Stage V emission standards.
|88 mm
|78 mm
|1.3 l
|Gross Power
|18.5 kW
|Rated Net Power - 2,400 rpm - ISO 9249/EEC 80/1269
|17.5 kW
|Operating Weight - With Cab
|3267 kg
|Operating Weight - With Canopy
|3048 kg
|Weight includes counterweight, rubber tracks, bucket, operator, full fuel and auxiliary lines.
Travel System
|Maximum Traction Force - Low Speed
|30.9 kN
|Travel Speed - High
|4.5 km/h
|Travel Speed - Low
|2.4 km/h
|Maximum Traction Force - High Speed
|15.2 kN
|Ground Pressure - Cab Standard Stick
|32.6 kPa
|Ground Pressure - Cab Long Stick
|33 kPa
|Ground Pressure with Canopy - Long Stick, Optional Counterweight
|33.5 kPa
|Ground Pressure - Canopy Standard Stick
|30.4 kPa
|Gradeability - Continuous Operation
|Ground Pressure - Canopy Long Stick
|30.8 kPa
|Ground Pressure with Canopy - Standard Stick, Optional Counterweight
|33 kPa
|Ground Pressure with Cab - Standard Stick, Optional Counterweight
|35.2 kPa
|Ground Pressure with Cab - Long Stick, Optional Counterweight
|35.6 kPa
Hydraulic System
|Operating Pressure - Swing
|181 bar
|Digging Force - Bucket
|28.4 kN
|Pump Flow at 2,400 rpm
|88 l/min
|Operating Pressure - Travel
|245 bar
|Digging Force - Stick - Standard
|16.6 kN
|Operating Pressure - Equipment
|245 bar
|Load Sensing Hydraulics with Variable Displacement Piston Pump
|Auxiliary Circuit - Secondary (174 bar/2,523 psi)
|27 l/min
|Digging Force - Stick - Long
|14.8 kN
|Auxiliary Circuit - Primary (186 bar/2,697 psi)
|60 l/min
Swing System
|Machine Swing Speed
|9 r/min
|Boom Swing - Left*
|Boom Swing - Right
|*Automatic swing brake, spring applied, hydraulic release.
|1550 mm
|335 mm
|Dig Depth
|472 mm
|Lift Height
|402 mm
Service Refill Capacities
|Engine Oil
|5.7 l
|Fuel Tank
|45 l
|Hydraulic Tank
|47 l
|Cooling System
|4.7 l
|Hydraulic System
|65 l
|Number of Carrier Rollers
|Track Roller Type
|Center Flange
|Number of Track Rollers
Certification - Cab and Canopy
|Top Guard
|ISO 10262:1998 (Level I)
|Roll Over Protective Structure (ROPS)
|Tip Over Protective Structure (TOPS)
Dimensions (Approximate) - Long Stick
|Dig Depth
|2980 mm
|Maximum Reach
|5040 mm
|Track Belt/Shoe Width
|300 mm
|Overall Undercarriage Length
|2080 mm
|Overall Shipping Height
|2500 mm
|Maximum Reach - Ground Level
|4910 mm
|Tail Swing
|775 mm
|Vertical Wall
|1750 mm
|Boom In Reach
|2000 mm
|Maximum Dig Height
|4250 mm
|Boom Swing Right
|825 mm
|Maximum Blade Depth
|470 mm
|Tail Swing with Extra Counterweight
|890 mm
|Maximum Blade Height
|400 mm
|Overall Track Width
|1550 mm
|Swing Bearing Height
|565 mm
|Boom Height in Shipping Position
|1600 mm
|Boom Swing Left
|610 mm
|Maximum Dump Clearance
|2970 mm
|Overall Shipping Length
|5030 mm
Lift Capacities at Ground Level* - Lift Point Radius: 3000 mm (9'8
|Blade Down - Side
|540 kg
|Blade Down - Front
|1170 kg
|Blade Up - Side
|490 kg
|Blade Up - Front
|650 kg
|*The above loads are in compliance with hydraulic excavator lift capacity rating standard ISO 10567:2007 and they do not exceed 87% of hydraulic lifting capacity or 75% of tipping capacity. The excavator bucket weight is not included on this chart. Lifting capacities are for machine with cab, optional counterweight and standard stick.
Operating Specifications
|Machine Overhang with Counterweight
|115 mm
|Machine Overhang
|0 mm
|Stick Length - Long
|1560 mm
|Stick Length - Standard
|1260 mm
Lift Capacities at Ground Level* - Lift Point Radius: 4000 mm (13'1
|Blade Up - Side
|300 kg
|Blade Down - Front
|740 kg
|*The above loads are in compliance with hydraulic excavator lift capacity rating standard ISO 10567:2007 and they do not exceed 87% of hydraulic lifting capacity or 75% of tipping capacity. The excavator bucket weight is not included on this chart. Lifting capacities are for machine with cab, optional counterweight and standard stick.
|Blade Down - Side
|340 kg
|Blade Up - Front
|410 kg
Dimensions (Approximate) - Standard Stick
|Tail Swing
|775 mm
|Maximum Dump Clearance
|3150 mm
|Track Belt/Shoe Width
|300 mm
|Overall Track Width
|1550 mm
|Maximum Dig Height
|4530 mm
|Dig Depth
|2750 mm
|Overall Undercarriage Length
|2080 mm
|Boom Swing Left
|610 mm
|Boom Swing Right
|825 mm
|Tail Swing with Extra Counterweight
|890 mm
|Maximum Blade Height
|402 mm
|Maximum Blade Depth
|472 mm
|Boom Height in Shipping Position
|1590 mm
|Swing Bearing Height
|565 mm
|Maximum Reach
|4950 mm
|Overall Shipping Height
|2500 mm
|Vertical Wall
|1960 mm
|Overall Shipping Length
|4470 mm
|Maximum Reach - Ground Level
|4810 mm
|Boom In Reach
|2110 mm
|Operating Weight with Canopy - Long Stick, Optional Counterweight
|3356 kg
|Operating Weight with Canopy - Long Stick
|3090 kg
|Operating Weight with Cab - Standard Stick
|3267 kg
|Operating Weight with Canopy - Standard Stick
|3048 kg
|Operating Weight with Cab - Standard Stick, Optional Counterweight
|3533 kg
|Operating Weight with Cab - Long Stick
|3309 kg
|*Weight includes counterweight, rubber tracks, bucket, operator, full fuel and auxiliary lines.
|Operating Weight with Canopy - Standard Stick, Optional Counterweight
|3314 kg
|Operating Weight with Cab - Long Stick, Optional Counterweight
|3575 kg
Solid Performance in a Small PackageCompact and efficient design provides superior power.
Compact RadiusThe 303E allows you to easily reposition within a confined space and increase your overall productivity. Proficient movement is enhanced as a result of the limited tailswing and swing boom design.
TransportWith an operating weight of 3200 kg (7,055 lb) and width of 1550 mm (60 in) the 303E is simple to load and position on a trailer with tie down points – getting you to the job site quicker.
Fuel EconomyPowered by the C1.3 engine, the 303E offers the performance and power required for your job with minimal fuel consumption.
Productivity and DurabilityDesigned for reliability.
Auxiliary HydraulicsThe 303E is ready to work. Hammer and two way lines with quick disconnect fittings are standard on every machine.
The quick disconnects are located close to the tool to reduce hose length and decrease owning and operating costs associated with hose replacement.
Hose routings provide superior protection and cylinder guards decrease opportunity for machine damage.
Thumb Ready StickThe machine is configured with brackets and relief valves for simple and cost effective mounting of a hydraulic thumb.
Dozer BladeThe durable blade and dozer float function provide the required design and capability to increase overall efficiency. Ground leveling and finishing applications are fast and easy with a single lever controlling all blade operation – up, down and float.
Superior Operating ExperienceSafety and comfort all day.
Spacious and Ergonomic Working EnvironmentYour safety and comfort is incorporated into the design of every Cat machine.
The adjustable suspension seat, retractable seat belt and adjustable wrist rests allow you to customize the operating station to meet your needs. Ergonomically designed joystick control and travel levers reduce fatigue and improve productivity.
An easy to use pattern control selector and informative gauge panel ensure optimal operation.
Cat Interlock System aids in job site safety. When the hydraulic lockout lever is in the up position no operational function is possible – including travel.
Travel alarm as standard safety offering. An audible alarm alerts job site operators of machine travel (optional in Europe).
ROPS/TOPS/TOP GUARD certification ensures the machine is prepared to protect you.
*Cab unit includes sliding door and openable front window/removable lower window.
Simple Service and Maintenance AccessLow cost of ownership.
Easy Maintenance Access and Extended Service IntervalsEase of access to daily maintenance check points ensures your machine is in prime condition to complete any task.
Engine and hydraulic hoods are simple to open and offer outstanding visibility and convenience to check points.
500 hour engine oil and filter change period reduces operating costs and machine downtime.
Easy access to the engine oil check and fill, vertically mounted engine oil filter, starter motor and alternator, as well as the radiator and oil cooler all result in simplified cleaning and reduced maintenance times.
Unmatched Support and SolutionsEquipment, service and attachments to meet your needs.
Customized Solutions for Any ApplicationA range of tools is available to take advantage of the machine's versatility. All tools are matched to the machine to optimize performance and deliver excellent value through high productivity and long life.
Customer Support You Can Count OnYour Cat dealer is ready to assist you with your purchase decision and everything after.
Financing packages are flexible to meet your needs.
Superior parts availability keeps you working.
- 1-way and 2-way (combined function) auxiliary hydraulic lines
- Adjustable armrests
- Alternator
- Automatic swing park brake
- Automatic two speed travel
- Auxiliary line quick disconnects
- Boom cylinder guard
- Cab mounted work light
- Canopy with Top Guard ISO 10262 (Level 1), ROPS ISO 12117-2 and TOPS ISO 12117
- Coat hook
- Cup holder
- Control pattern changer
- Dozer blade with float function
- Foot travel pedals
- Gauges or indicators for fuel level engine coolant temperature, hour meter, engine oil pressure, air cleaner, alternator and glow plugs, service interval
- Horn
- Hydraulic oil cooler
- Lifting eye on bucket linkage (standard equipment for all regions except Europe)
- Lockable storage box
- Low maintenance linkage pin joints
- Maintenance free battery
- Rubber track
- Retractable seatbelt
- Standard stick
- Suspension seat, vinyl covered
- dquo;Thumb ready" sticks
- Travel alarm (optional in Europe)
- Beacon socket for canopy machines
- Boom mounted light
- Cab, Top Guard ISO 10262 (Level 1), ROPS ISO 12117-2 and TOPS ISO 12117
- High back suspension seat, fabric covered
- Mechanical quick coupler
- Mirrors for cab and canopy
- Steel track
32 Similar Products Available in UsedView
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