I'm Too Exhausted to Think of a Title.

The wind howled all day today. Rain overnight turned our excavated material into boot sticking mud that seemed to add 10 pounds to each foot. By afternoon a cold front appeared and the temperature dropped; snow fell shortly thereafter but not enough to accumulate. To keep warm I wore long johns, two long sleeved shirts, bib overalls, a jacket, coveralls, a visi-vest, a hard hat liner, a hard hat, and gortex lined work boots. Still I had to keep moving to stay warm, and today there was plenty of reasons to move.

I shovelled more gravel today than I should have, ran a plate tamper more than I should have, and lifted concrete risers more than I should have. At the end of the day I thought I’d hurt my back, but after a hot shower I found out I had only hurt many, many muscles. It was the kind of day that makes you want to skip dinner and go to sleep, like someone lost in the wilderness about to succumb to hypothermia maybe; or like someone working in Saskatchewan in October.

Luckily we were saved at the last moment by Baba’s "Drive-Thru" Perogies.

Day Off

A day off today. My alarm was not set but I still woke at six.

Day’s off, when you’re on the road, are for laundry. There is a laundry mat next to the hotel I will spend some time in today. You have to pack enough clothes to make it through a week of work because there’s no time for laundry after work; just dinner and sleep. And you have to pack the right clothes for whatever weather you may encounter. I think my body is finally adjusting to the 20 degree shift in temperature we experienced in transition between Red Deer and Saskatoon. The shorts in my suitcase seem so out of place now. The crew laughed at me when I told them in Red Deer I packed long underwear for this trip. That seems so long ago but only seven days have passed; one week since I arrived in Saskatoon and did laundry.

Drunks

Drunks in the hallway of the hotel woke me up this morning at 3:30 and I haven't been able to go back to sleep. I fantasized about opening the door and letting go a barrage of punches into the guy who kept yelling "dude" again and again to his friends. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pockets in my sleeping attire and so nowhere to put my room key. I would have certainly locked myself out of my room and been stranded in the hallway in my underwear with the bloody corpse of “dude” at my feet. Then I would have had to go down to reception to get a new key made, still in my underwear, and tell them to send someone upstairs to clean up the mess on the second floor.

I suppose could have dressed into proper ass-kicking clothes, but by the time I could have laced up my steel toed boots “dude” would have been gone. Instead I put a pillow on my head to muffle the sound and tried to sleep while wondering if prison would have been quieter than the Best Western Harvest Inn.

Cigars and Enchiladas

Saskatoonies seem to enjoy smoking cheap cigars and eating Mexican food, and thanks to lung cancer and the subsequent anti-smoking laws, one can enjoy a good enchiladas verde without being enshrouded that acrid, dried manure smelling Colt 45 smoke you encounter every time you step outdoors.

And enjoy a good enchiladas verde, we did. In fact it was one of the best Mexican meals and one of the best margaritas I’ve ever had, which is quite a find in a small Canadian city in the middle of the prairies. The place is called La Bamba. They have 2 for 1 margaritas on Tuesdays, and 2 for 1 Mexican beer on Wednesdays.

In fact, if I was flying anywhere that routed me over Saskatchewan airspace I would purposely choose a flight with a 7 hour layover in Saskatoon (i.e. any Air Canada flight) so I could take a taxi from the airport to La Bamba and have a meal. It was so good, I would be willing to fly Air Canada to eat there again.

Damn, that was a good enchilada.

They Got Omlets in Saskatchewan!

Saskatchewan Kenobi

Even though Google Maps suggested I drive north to Edmonton and take Highway 16 to Saskatoon, I decided instead to head due east from Red Deer and travel as the crow flies. Surely a straight line must be faster than a “v” I thought, and I made great time through Alberta. As soon as I reached the Saskatchewan border however, it became apparent that it was going to take a long time to reach Saskatoon. In hind sight it should have been obvious that in a Province with an oil based economy like Alberta, the roads will get a frequent coat of new asphalt, but in Saskatchewan, wheat does not make good asphalt.

So Google Maps was right this time, and I didn’t make it to Saskatoon. I instead stayed the night in Biggar, Saskatchewan in a cinder block motel with an amphitheatre-like ability to transmit sound. At the hotel I met a few residents of Biggar and they seemed very guarded; particularly the women. I suspect they’re shy around strangers or maybe the women have a general suspicion of men, who are known carriers of the dreaded affliction known as unplanned pregnancy, which I understand is pandemic in places where winter lasts 6 months. Obi Wan Kenobi said “We must be cautious”, and the women of Biggar seem to be.

Then again, perhaps it is bigger than the women of Biggar. Perhaps the entire Province of Saskatchewan is solemn because they have heard one too many tractor joke or have had one too many relative lose a limb in a combine harvester related accident. Would a Province wide chain of hot dog stands called “Saskatcheweiners” bring joy to them? Perhaps.

Done

10 days; 4700 feet of pipe; 4 days ahead of schedule.


Next stop Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

Tractor

Yesterday I saw the biggest tractor I’ve ever seen in my life. It had eight wheels that each must have been 8 feet tall and a blade on the front about twice that of a typical bulldozer. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera with me at the time, but I did get a photo of this old school bus someone converted into a tow truck to tow old school buses.

Red Deer

The air in Red Deer smells like wet hay. Every morning when I step out of my hotel room into the hallway on the way to breakfast there is a strong smell of hay. Outside, I can’t see the hay but my nose tells me it’s near.

There are no red deer in Red Deer, but there are obnoxious pick-up trucks, western wear outlets and liquor stores; lots of liquor stores. Another thing I’ve noticed is box stores; an endless string of box stores and food chains that force the people of Red Deer to drive their obnoxious pick-up trucks. They drive from one box store to the next because even though they are across the street from one another, the Home Depot and Wal-Mart are a kilometre apart, separated by two massive parking lots full of western wear wearing, obnoxious pick-up truck drivers that seem to be in a hurry to get to the next massive parking lot and the next box store.

And somewhere nearby there must be a lot of hay.

Backhoe Arm

While supervising the installation of a buried piping network, I heard a loud “pop” and the backhoe arm fell heavily into the trench where only moments before one of the crew was standing. It was a mechanical failure that is not typical; something inside one of the hydraulic cylinders went. Something I have never seen before, and something the backhoe operator has never seen.

We followed all the safety protocols and no-one was hurt, but the incident was written up as a “near miss” because the potential for injury was present. It was a valuable lesson, and I am going to implement new safety rules based on what I witnessed.

3 Valley Gap

Three Valley Gap makes no sense to me. A 200 room hotel situated on a small lake nestled between the Trans Canada Highway and a CP rail line. Not quite far enough away from Revelstoke to be considered remote, but somehow managing to capture the essence of remoteness. It reminds me a little of that Chateau in “The Shining”, but without the river of blood running through the hallways.

I’ve driven past this place a hundred times and never stayed here. In fact, the overly friendly guy at the front desk said a lot of their visitors have driven by many times and were eventually overcome by curiosity and pulled in for a night. Not the greatest business plan, but I expect they also get a lot of tour buses.

Apparently they have their own hydroelectric power plant across the Highway and in a few weeks they shut the place down for the winter when the water level is too low to turn the turbines. Say, didn’t that Chateau in “The Shining” also close for the winter?

The place is already relatively empty and the peace and quiet gives me a chance to work on my writing.

Now, where did I leave off…

All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy…

But, I digress.

The hotel may not be haunted, but you must admit the pool is a bit macabre.

While they swim, your kids can pretend they are trying to escape from the sinking Titanic. Unfortunately they are stuck on one of the lower decks and they all die and sink to the bottom of the Atlantic. Grim game, but quieter than Marco Polo.

Thirty-one

The number of days I have worked without a day off. One month, and not a short month like February.

After 31 days of work without a day off you wake up tired and feel like going back to sleep after breakfast. Noises seem louder and more startling, and sounds you wouldn’t normally notice are like nails on a chalk board. Telephone conversations are hard to follow and quickly become aggravating. Food doesn’t taste good anymore, especially when you eat at the same restaurant every night because the only other restaurant open for business in town apparently induces vomiting.

Tomorrow afternoon that dusty road leads me at last to Fort St. John and a flight home.

Thirty-two.

24 Hours in Calgary

An impromptu meeting in Calgary pulled me out of Hudson’s Hope for a day; or 3 if you count travel. I drove from Hudson’s Hope, B.C. to Grande Prairie, Alberta; caught a flight from Grande Prairie to Edmonton; and connected to Calgary. The trip took 8 hours from hotel to hotel, but the soap actually lathers in Calgary so I finally had a decent shower.

Back to Hudson's Hope in the morning.

Back in Town

A large crew is moving into camp and will need our beds, so it looks like we’ll be moving back to civilization. I am going to miss the camp kitchen, but the rest of the crew is looking forward to some new scenery and maybe a beer. And it will be nice to sleep in a room that isn’t situated next to a diesel powered generator.

Civilization for us will be Hudson’s Hope, “The Land of Dinosaurs and Dams”; population 1100 or thereabouts; two gas stations, three restaurants, two hotels, a hardware store, curling rink, and hockey arena; half way between Fort St. John and Chetwynd.

I'm looking forward to finding out exactly what Hudson was hoping for.

Alberta Gumbo

Standing at the top of a 20’ aluminum ladder is not the place you want to be when you hear a clap of thunder overhead. I was on terra firma by the time the hail started, followed promptly by rain and then heavy rain. I hid in the van until the worst of it passed, but that thunder clap signalled the end of our heat wave and the arrival of a cooler front.

It doesn’t take much rain to soften the ground here. In no time your boots are covered with a sticky mud affectionately known as Alberta Gumbo. It fills your wheel wells like road slush and the dirt roads get so slick the truckers put on chains. A little taste of winter in the middle of summer.

All this work in boots and coveralls is giving me an excellent neck and hands tan.

The cooks teased me about my new coveralls after lunch. It isn’t fashionable to have new coveralls or boots, you see. The accepted look is royal blue coveralls with reflective stripes, and they should be dusty or stained almost black. Other acceptable colours include red; but only those who don’t mind attention brave red coveralls. Once I saw someone wearing tan coveralls.

Hard hats can be any colour, but should be quite worn and preferably covered with health & safety stickers.

New clothes should be avoided because they make you look like a greenhorn. The biggest fashion faux pas would be new coveralls, new boots, and a new hard hat on the same day.

You never want to do that.

Keeping the Peace

I took the opportunity to drive Hwy 29 from Hudson’s Hope to Fort St. John to pick up the much anticipated missing parts.

It takes about 45 minutes to reach Fort St. John along the Peace River Valley. The Valley is east of the Rocky Mountains and Hudson’s Hope is in the foothills of the Rockies. These northern Rocky Mountains are old mountains; worn and rounded by millennia of rain and freeze thaw; not at all like the jagged peaks of the southern Rockies. Highway 29 follows the river as it winds through the Aspen forests of the foothills which are technically part of the Prairies. It’s a beautiful drive that may not be around much longer. I passed many signs posted by area residents protesting the flooding of the valley for the Site C extension of the WAC Bennett Dam. I stole the title of this post from one of the signs.

When I arrived at the Greyhound bus station in Fort St. John to pick up our missing parts, I found three of the four boxed had arrived, but not the one with the parts we desperately need to move forward.

Waiting for Parts

Today I wait for parts. It happens more than I like, but seems to be unavoidable when working with a variety of suppliers on a single project.

My work for this morning consisted of pounding in the 5’ ground spike for the generator. It took 20 minutes with a 15 pound sledge hammer and was hot work in Nomex coveralls, but I found if I hummed “I’ve Been Working on a Railroad” I could get into a good rhythm. It is music for pounding spikes after all, and is timed properly for that task.

Lunch is next on my agenda. The food in camp has been pretty good, but I worry that I’m going to gain (more) weight. Breakfast is eggs how you like them, bacon, sausage, ham, pancakes, French toast, fruit, and coffee, tea, or juice. Lunch and dinners are meat and potato affairs like roast beef and mashed potatoes, or roast chicken and potatoes. The food is served buffet style, and there’s no pop here; no nutritional value the cook said.

Chris in Camp

After spending the night in Hudson’s Hope, we made our way this morning along miles of dusty prairie routes and logging roads to the work camp. Logging trucks coming the other way encapsulated our vehicles with road dust that reduced visibility to near blindness. It was an instantaneous “white out” that cleared slowly once the truck passed, but the few seconds of blindness were unnerving and in my mind I envisioned unseen corners and stopped vehicles during those moments.

The camp is a series of portable buildings consisting of a kitchen, lounges and sleepers. The sleepers are divided into 2 units per trailer with a laundry room in the middle. Each unit has 2 bedrooms, 2 sinks, a toilet, and a shower. The bedrooms are about 8 feet wide by 8 feet long and contain two beds, a cupboard, and a small TV. I currently have a bedroom to myself, and am sharing a unit with a guy on my crew.

The lounges have TV’s, exercise bikes, and one has a foosball table. The kitchen serves 3 meals a day; breakfast between 6 and 8AM, lunch from 11AM to 1PM, and dinner from 6PM to 8PM. Camp is in Mountain Daylight Savings Time (same as Calgary), but Hudson’s Hope is in Mountain Standard Time, which is the same as Pacific Daylight Savings Time (like Vancouver). It’s a bit confusing, and it made us late for lunch.

The equipment arrives tomorrow morning and we start work directly.