Lin Yu’an imdiately sprang into action, donned his Archaeopteryx down jacket, and started up his Zongshen Tricycle.
Stan hopped onto his own snowmobile, while David and George sat in the sidecar, experiencing this vehicle from China for the first ti...
The group ford an unusual convoy, heading deep into Wiseman Town.
Old George’s cabin was larger and tidier than Stan’s, with a well-maintained old Ford pickup parked in the yard.
On the other side of the yard, under a massive canvas cover, the outline of a large machine could be vaguely seen.
A silver-haired yet still robust old man was chopping wood in the yard—he was Old George.
"Hey, George! I brought a new neighbor to et you!" Stan called out from afar.
Old George stopped his work, straightened up, and examined Lin Yu’an, who stepped down from the tricycle, with a sharp gaze.
"Stan, is this the Chinese kid you ntioned?"
Old George’s voice was loud, with a hint of a Texas accent, clearly indicating he too had migrated from the mainland United States.
"Hello, Mr. George, you can call Lin or Herman." Lin Yu’an proactively approached, extending his hand.
Old George shook his hand with a strong grip.
"Just call George. I heard from Stan that you’re planning to build a big thing on that swampy area by the river?"
"Yes, sir, I’m just about to start." Lin Yu’an smiled, not imdiately raising the topic of borrowing machinery.
He turned around and from a waterproof box in the back of the Zongshen Tricycle, he took out two items.
They were a pack of exquisitely packaged "Zhonghua" cigarettes, and a bottle of Feitian Moutai liquor.
"Mr. George, this is my first visit, and I brought a small gift from China, hoping you’d like it." He handed over the cigarettes and liquor.
Old George’s eyebrows raised, showing a hint of surprise and curiosity in his eyes.
He took the heavy bottle of Moutai, looked it over repeatedly at the Chinese characters he couldn’t recognize, then picked up the cigarettes, attracted by their vibrant red color and design.
He chuckled; this straightforward goodwill was sowhat unexpected but not unwelco.
"Ha, gifts from China? I like your style; soone who arrives bearing gifts. Co on in."
He didn’t refuse, accepting the gifts outright, then turned and led them towards his cabin.
Stan gave a knowing smile from the side.
Inside Old George’s warm cabin, the fireplace was burning brightly.
Old George generously brought out five sturdy glass cups and opened a bottle of his prized bourbon whiskey.
Lin Yu’an uncorked the Moutai, and a complex, rich aroma spread through the air.
Old George’s nose twitched as he leaned in to sll it, showing a look of interest.
The five of them toasted each other, chatting from hunting to fishing, from the tough tis in the oil fields during their youth, to the stories within the Wiseman Community.
Lin Yu’an did not rush into the main topic but, as a newcor to the community, shared his experiences and listened to the stories of the two seasoned n.
After a few cups of strong liquor, the atmosphere beca amiable and lively.
Old George found himself quite interested in this steady, polite, and beer-drinking young Chinese man.
Finally, he took the initiative to speak: "Alright, young one, let’s talk business. Stan said you ran into trouble? Related to that big house of yours?"
Lin Yu’an knew the ti had co for serious discussion.
He nodded and sincerely said, "Yes, George. I’m facing two major challenges right now."
"The first challenge is processing timber. I want to transform raw logs into flat construction materials, but I lack a portable bandsaw mill."
"The second challenge, and the more critical one, is laying a foundation beneath the permafrost, seeking to learn more about local thods."
"I know you’re an expert in this field, with over twenty years of rich experience, so I also want to ask for your advice on how to create a stable foundation under the permafrost."
Upon hearing this, a genuine, proud smile appeared on Old George’s face.
Lin Yu’an continued, "And Stan told that you have the best portable bandsaw mill in town."
"Therefore, I hope to get your help, to rent your bandsaw mill for a ti. Of course, I will pay a rent that will satisfy you."
Old George listened, took a sip of his drink, and didn’t imdiately reply.
After this sip, Old George laughed out loud: "You’ve co to the right person, alright. Pour another cup of whatever you call this!"
"After this drink, I’ll take you to see my prized possession and chat about how to handle that darn permafrost!"
In Old George’s cabin, the liquor flowed freely.
As the conversation deepened, Old George’s face occasionally revealed a smile from the heart.
It was the type of smile a seasoned veteran shows upon eting a worthy junior.
George downed the rest of his bourbon whiskey in a single gulp, letting out a satisfied sigh, as the ice cubes clinked crisply in the glass.
Then, with eyes still sharp, he stared at Lin Yu’an, saying, "Young one, let’s talk about this damned permafrost."
Old George leaned back in his chair, the old leather sofa creaking audibly as if protesting.
He crossed his arms, his entire deanor shifted from a hearty drinking buddy to that of a ticulous, seasoned engineer.
"Since you’re a bachelor’s in chanical engineering, tell , in a place like Wiseman, what is the average depth of the seasonal active permafrost layer?"
"Don’t give those general numbers you find online; I want the depth that can be used in engineering with safety factors considered."
This question is very professional, directly hitting the core of the problem.
David imdiately perked up, gesturing to Mike to focus the cara on the two of them, focusing on the table occupied by whiskey and maps.
He instantly realized that this shot was no longer simple neighborhood chatter.
It was a collision of knowledge and experience, a shot that gives viewers a sense of satisfaction! It’s the high-quality content the program needs the most!
Lin Yu’an didn’t hesitate at all. He didn’t even bother to recall; those data seed already imprinted in his mind.
He answered steadily, "According to the geological report for the Koyukuk River Basin published by the United States Geological Survey, combined with past teorological data models to draw conclusions."
"The active permafrost layer in this area has an average annual lt depth between 1.5 ters and 2 ters."
"But this is the average value; in certain south-facing slopes affected by river water, or areas with sparse vegetation and more abundant sumr sunshine, the maximum lt depth could reach 2.5 ters."
"Therefore, for absolute safety, the bottom of any permanent foundation piles must be driven to at least 3 ters deep to securely anchor to the stable and reliable permafrost below."
"That’s a good answer. It shows you’ve done your howork."
Old George’s eyes lit up a bit, he took another sip of whiskey.
He didn’t expect Lin Yu’an to have done such solid howork, showing he was genuinely serious about settling in Alaska.
Old George posed a second question, "Then, given these conditions, what do you think the best foundation plan would be?"
"Many contractors like to directly excavate the permafrost and pour a large, solid concrete foundation. What do you think?"
"No, that would be a disaster. Deep excavation would completely disrupt the thermal balance of the underlying permafrost."
Lin Yu’an shook his head, very confidently rejecting this seemingly straightforward plan.
"In sumr, external heat would continuously conduct down through the large concrete foundation, this heat conductor, causing irreversible lting of the permafrost surrounding the foundation!"
Then he picked up a pencil on the table and quickly sketched a clear structural diagram on paper.
This action excited both David and Mike, and the cara imdiately zood in for a close-up.
"I believe the best solution should be an elevated independent pile foundation, that is an elevated piling."
He pointed to the sketch and explained, "For every load point, such as the corners of the house, intersection of load-bearing walls, use a helical drilling machine to drill down."
"According to the estimated total weight of the house and local geological conditions, this anchoring depth must reach at least four to five ters."
"Only then can sufficient freezing force be provided to resist the subsidence and tilting of the house."
"Then at the top of these concrete piles, use adjustable height steel connectors to build a platform at least half a ter above the ground."
"Build the entire lower frawork of the wooden house on this completely elevated platform."
He used a pencil to draw airflow arrows on the blueprint, "In this way, the house is completely detached from the ground, allowing cold air to circulate freely beneath the house."
"It will neither transfer the house’s internal heat to the ground, causing permafrost lting nor be affected by the upward thrust caused by winter ground frost heaving."
After listening to Lin Yu’an’s clear articulation, Old George’s critical gaze transford entirely into admiration.
"You kid, you indeed know a bit."
"What you said is completely correct, more sensible than many contractors who co here for engineering and only know to work according to blueprints."
"However..."
"Theory can’t solve hands-on problems. Alaska’s sumr looks very nice, but for concrete, it has its own troubles."
"Here, the polar day lasts two months, daily sunlight lasts over 20 hours, sotis the temperature rises quickly. How do you prevent concrete from setting too quickly and causing shrinkage cracks?"
Lin Yu’an thought for a while and said, "After pouring, imdiately cover the concrete surface, like with plastic film."
"And after initial setting, continue to mist and maintain moisture, keeping its surface damp, slowing down the evaporation rate."
"But for how fast the wind and what temperature to start misting, and the frequency of misting, I truly lack local practical experience, which is exactly where I want to learn from you."
"Good, kid, at least you know to keep it moist."
Lin Yu’an’s humble and respectful attitude, showcasing both theoretical knowledge and candidly pointing out practical shortcomings, thoroughly won Old George’s respect.
In the United States, especially in a place like Alaska, people respect experts but respect even more those who dare to admit they don’t know and humbly seek guidance.
"Hahaha!" Old George erupted in loud laughter again.
He stood up, forcefully patted Lin Yu’an’s shoulder, the strength was so great that Lin Yu’an could feel the sincerity.
"Buddy, you’re great; you’ve done your howork. In Alaska, the most feared thing is those arrogant idiots; they only end up harming themselves. You’re excellent!"
He turned to Stan and said, "Stan, this ti you’ve brought an interesting fellow."
"Let’s go! I’ll show you my treasure."
Old George led the group out of the warm wooden house to the other side of the yard, in front of a huge canvas cover. He untied the ropes and threw off the canvas.
An excellently maintained Woodland Mills HM126 portable band sawmill, painted in orange and black lacquer, appeared before everyone’s eyes.
Its track was nearly eight ters long, pieced together with several two-ter standard sections, alongside hung various sizes of bandsaw blades, old and new.
Not far away, there was also a small concrete mixer!
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