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.