[SinisterBlueCat]

I am not a doctor, but my dad did a lot of driving his whole life, and in late middle life he blew out three disks. The doctors here in the US told him he would have to have them fused which would give him a 50/50 chance of ever walking again...so we went to canada where they fixed him up with injections. But the doctors in canada told him that driving is seriously bad for the back.

The vibration combined with the fact that our bodies are made weak by the fact that we are constantly supported by furniture makes for the problems he was having.

[oowolf]

I have 3 fused vertebrae (L3.4.5) Doctor said my back a was wrecked by 9 years of driving a 1938 Ross forklift truck in an unpaved sawmill yard.

[PenultimateManStanding]

$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('oowolf', 'I') have 3 fused vertebrae (L3.4.5) Doctor said my back a was wrecked by 9 years of driving a 1938 Ross forklift truck in an unpaved sawmill yard.

[oowolf]

The mill was a family operation started in the late 1940's postwar building boom. The place was a museum. The bandmill was a 1912 Yates. In 1976 I sent a letter to the YatesAmerican Co. asking for information on the machine. They sent back a REGISTERED letter that stated that the machine was obsolete and considered very dangerous and should be destroyed. This machine continued in operation into the early 1990's. It was very dangerous; it would "throw" blades without warning. I was terrified of it.
The planer was a 1916 Yates. It had babbit bearings. I learned how to pour and scrape babbit bearings. It was a good machine.
I also drove a Ross "straddlebuggy" and a Wagner Scoopmobile which we called "the dinosaur".

All of this equipment was extremely dangerous to even be around.

I first worked at this mill in 1975 and no one asked me to show an "ID". It would have been taken as an insult.
In the summer it gets as hot as 110 degreesF here. The owner, a man by the name of Billy Watters, was as fine a boss as you could hope to have. He would bring a cooler filled with beer and soda pop for the crew. Try drinking beer on the job in a sawmill now. Sometimes, we would just shut the planer down for 15 minutes and go swimming--the Clark Fork river ran right along the millsite.

Billy's son died in 2003 and his sister, the heir, had me liquidate anything anybody would give money for. It took me 21/2 months to sell it all off. Yes, I sold the 1912 Yates bandmill for 300$ and its still running!!!

Lenore sold the millsite last fall for 1.5 million$. 35 acres with 3300 feet of river frontage that is in the process of being subdivided. The mill buildings were dozed and burned. I watched a major landmark of 30 years of my life go up in smoke. It affected me much more that I would have thought.
Soon, rich Californians will come and build McMansions and they wont have a clue what went on--and they wont care--I find most of them ignorant and arrogant--driving around in 9000 pound diesel super duper dually pickups--with every conceivable piece of accessory crap added on--(which they NEVER take offroad), which they like to leave running outside the local cafe while they "slum" with the yahoos.

That's the story of Montana. For more, read Jared Diamond's "Collapse".

[TommyJefferson]

I also worked in a lumber mill oowolf.

I can relate. Few people know what REAL labor is like. Spending all day in 100+ shovelling muddy sawdust out from under machines that will literally tear a man apart in milliseconds gives one a true appreciation for the depravity of hair-sprayed Martha Stewart wanna-be's piloting Dodge Duallys while they berate the pool boy on their cell phone.

I LOVE air conditioning and chain guards because I know their true value.

On the upside, all that shovelling made my back strong. Many back problems are the result of a weak core. Strenghthen your core, and the back problems will often go away.

No special equipment is or gym membership is necessary.

http://www.trainforstrength.com/workouts.shtml

Exercises in the above link will make you STRONG and FIT, not buffy and slick, and you won't have to buy new fashions to fit in with the gym bunnies.