How To Rig A Self-Adjusting Clothesline

My sisters and I grew up on a working ranch in western Montana that lacked a few things considered necessities by today's youngsters. We did have electrical power, though not until I was maybe five or six years old. Prior to that, the only available light after the sun went down was from a single kerosene lantern. Once the power line arrived at our house, though, we were fully modernized with a wringer washer, a hot water heater, and even a radio. We did not have a telephone, a television set...or a clothes dryer. Summer or winter, laundry went directly from the wringer to the four clotheslines on the north side of the house.

Strung between two sturdy posts and made from virtually indestructible #9 wire, our clothesline was among other things highly educational. For example, It only took one mistake of letting a saddle horse route herself under those wires to teach me firmly and forever what professional athletes in sports like football and wrestling mean when they use the term "clotheslining". Additionally, since the laundry was done weekly--either by Mom or by one of us as we got older--it required only a quick glance for anyone in the family to know if you'd been changing your shorts on the recommended schedule or not.

Fast forward from 1961 (the year I graduated from high school and left the ranch) to April 2010. My wife and I have lived with all the amenities and we've lived rough. We can survive either way without crying and moaning about it, and we value freedom and privacy most highly of all--so when we moved off grid in April of 2009 to a bare-land acreage just a mile from the Mexican border in southern Arizona, it was partly from necessity but mostly by choice.

We'll take those luxuries if they come handy, though; we're no eco-freak purists. Just purely practical. So when our finances improved enough for me to start building us a new home, and the shell was finally complete (except for stucco), Pam requested that the laundry room be finished and functional even before the bedrooms. Clean clothes rule!

No problem. That is, no problem until the room itself was indeed finished and we tested the appliances. Big problem then: While our larger, 5500 watt generator powered the washing machine perfectly, the huge Maytag Neptune front loading dryer was another kettle of foul smelling fishies. It wouldn't even air fluff! Drags too much power!

So...we loaned the Neptune to our son--he needed a dryer anyway--and bought an older, used Roper dryer that would at least air fluff. Turning on even the lowest level of heat is still enough to kill the generator motor, but air fluff (in case you didn't know) is a whole lot better than nothing. Besides which, Zach is ecstatic over the Neptune; it's by far the best dryer he's ever used.

On the other hand, when air fluff is all your dryer will do, you most certainly do want to have a clothesline for backup. Besides, Pammie asked for one, and what Pammie wants, Pammie gets.

One problem when it comes to clothesline construction is that if you mount the lines on sturdy posts, you have to (a) dig the post holes and (b) rig guy wires and anchors to keep the considerable tension of a loaded line from pulling the posts over sideways. It's hard work, the guy wires are (to me) ugly, and you have to buy the materials. Studying our homesite with an eye toward avoiding that scenario, I finally spotted the answer: Thirty feet of open space between the corner of a steel storage shed (not going to move when "tugged upon") and a corner post of the water tower (really not going to move). Beautiful. That much line would hold a full washer load of laundry, or close enough.

However...thirty feet of slightly stretchy clothesline rope is going to sag in the middle. Okay...the Native Americans (and probably others) used forked sticks to hold up sagging lines. Why not improve on that idea just a touch?

In the end, the following steps were followed:

1. Drill a hole near one end of a chunk of 2" x 4" lumber large enough to accept a press-fitted piece of half inch PVC pipe (which would serve as a bushing to prevent the rope from fraying).

2. Sharpen the other end a bit.

3. Slap on a couple of coats of paint.

4. Thread the clothesline rope through the hole in the 2" x 4", place the sharpened end in a shallow hole (not deep enough to hold the board absolutely vertical--just enough to keep the bottom, semi-sharpened end from "kicking out".

5. Screw a couple of eyebolts to the anchor structures, attach the line, and pull that sucker ti-i-ght before tying it off.

The photos don't show it well, but when the line is fully loaded, magic happens. A "twine wrap" (see closeup photo above) keeps the "prop stick" from slipping to left or right, but it is entirely free to lean backward or forward if it has a hankering to do so. A lot of weight on the line (as when the clothes are still damp) does in fact push the top of the 2" x 4" back a bit...and instead of sagging, the lean actually keeps the lines almost perfectly straight. There is still a slight bit of sag in both halves of the line, but very slight. Then when the clothes are dry and have been removed, the rope "snaps" the board right back up into an almost perfectly vertical position.

This mini-miracle may not compare with the accidental discovery of, say, Teflon--but for a minor project with no particular expectations attached, it's not bad.