There’s nothing like welding in sub-zero temperatures.
That sentence alone probably deserves its own moment of silence.
Winter in Montana is when bigger projects have a way of finally making it onto the schedule. Because in Montana, winter is the season where everything slows down whether you want it to or not.
Summer is a completely different animal. The days are long, the sun hangs around until almost 11 o’clock at night, and before you know it, you are stuck in that familiar pattern of go, go, go from sunup to sundown. There is always something that needs done, someone who needs help, something that needs fixed, and not enough hours in the day, even when Montana gives you a lot of them.
Then winter shows up.
The days get short. The dark comes early. You look at the clock, see that it is only four o’clock, and somehow it already feels like bedtime. Except there is still a mountain of work left to do.
That is usually when some of those bigger projects get tackled. The downside is obvious: Montana has winter. Real winter. Not “grab a hoodie” winter. More like “why do my eyelashes and nosehairs hurt?” winter.
This roping return was one of those projects.
I remember Wes heading out to work on it; fighting the cold every step of the way. It was around 20 degrees below zero outside. Even with the wood stove going, inside the arena maybe got up to zero degrees. M aybe.
And yet, there they were, welding, cutting, fitting, fabricating, and putting this whole thing together in temperatures that make most people question every life choice that led them there.
But the time was open, the project needed done, and that is how things go sometimes. You put on another layer, thaw your fingers when you can, and keep working.
Wes has been saying, more than once recently, how excited he is to not have to do that anymore since we moved to Arizona and started building out of our shop here. And honestly, I do not blame him one bit. There is tough, and then there is trying to fabricate metal when the air itself feels personally offended by your very existence.
Looking back at these pictures now is kind of refreshing. Not because the conditions were fun, because they absolutely weren’t. But because it is a reminder of the kind of work that gets done even when the conditions are less than ideal.
Arizona will have its own challenges, of course. Instead of freezing, we will probably be melting. Desert heat is no joke, and I am sure there will be plenty of days where we are saying, “Remember when we wanted to thaw out?”
But in all honesty, it feels really good to be warm again.
I love Montana. I always will. But after 13 years away from Arizona, and being an Arizona native from Prescott, the sunshine feels pretty good. The warm weather feels pretty good. And the idea of kicking off new custom projects without five layers of clothing, frozen fingers, and a wood stove fighting for its life feels even better.
The other funny thing about this project is that we did not even have pictures of it.
As much as I am always on my husband to take pictures of his work, because he does amazing work, it is never the first thing on his mind when he finishes something. Never. He does not stand back and say, “Wow, that turned out great. I should take a picture.”
Nope.
What Wes sees is the one tiny spot he thinks could have been better. Or the one measurement that is a sixteenth of an inch off. Or the one detail that nobody else on earth would notice but will apparently haunt him until the end of time.
That is just how his brain works.
And honestly, that is also why I feel so comfortable putting our work and our services out there. Wes is a perfectionist. He does not look at a project and see “good enough.” He sees what needs to last, what needs to function, and what could be improved before he ever calls it done.
Everything we build is meant to work. It is meant to last. It is meant to be used.
This roping return was built three or four years ago, and we actually had to call the client to get pictures of it because, of course, we had never taken any. Thankfully, they sent some over, and looking at it now, I am still impressed by what Wes and Marion built, especially considering the conditions they were working in.
That is the kind of work we are proud of.
Not flashy for the sake of being flashy. Not thrown together. Not built just to get it out the door. Built with purpose. Built to solve a problem. Built to hold up.
So here we are, thawed out and getting settled into Arizona, ready for the next round of custom projects.
If you have something that needs to be built, repaired, modified, reinforced, or completely figured out from scratch, we would love to talk with you.
Message MW Fabrication and let us know what you have in mind.
We are ready to build something solid — preferably in the Arizona sunshine but on the hot days we’ll keep to the shade.