Summer's over..after 8 hours.

Happy solstice! Last night, on the longest day of the year (and best excuse for the biggest party of the year in the Yukon), Nature decided to get a head start on winter, and dealt us a little wake-up call. And we thought we were out of the woods (for at least a few weeks)! Yes, that is snow. And so instead of staying up all night to see the midnight 'sun', we all went to bed early (Shane was in bed by 8:30). Just when the road was drying up...

Luckily, the tent was oh so cozy, and these two snugglebunnies were ready for hibernation.

This is what it looked like the morning after. I went all out for solstice, and celebrated with bacon. Not surprisingly, my departure plans have been realigned, and out of the blue I found out I'll be leaving in the morning, rather than saturday evening. Luckily, I'm in pretty good shape for my sampling etc., and I was hoping I'd get a chance to crash in the Horse for a night to squeeze in a traditional crap Whitehorse Cinema movie. A short list includes:

1. Troy (wow, crappier than even I expected - and I loves crappy! - although the Eric Bana obsession started here)
2. War of the Worlds (Tragic ending - Tom survives.)
3. Princess Diaries 2 (I have never felt so surreal, sitting with Elspeth in a theatre packed with 12 year olds and actually laughing at the jokes. But it was that or the Pokimon movie.)
4. Dodgeball (actually, this was pretty good - I cheated. There's a freakin pirate!)

So maybe I'll hit the likes of Mission Impossible 3 or god forbid (hehe) The DaVinci Code.

I am sort of sad to go. Tonight we had a nice 'family' dinner - seeing as the drill is temporarily waiting for a part, we all sat down together. It was also driller Mike's birthday. From left to right we have Shane (geotech), Mike (birthday boy, and no, he's actually a big teddy bear, not a serial killer), Danielle (project geo), Don Hoe (hoe operator), Eileen (cook), Alex (core splitter), and Mike (geo/logger). Missing is Joel, the driller's helper, and Dave (Camp Manager). The day shift drillers (Miles and Scott) are in town for the part.

This place has pretty good morale in spite of the snow and mud, and it will be fun to come back.

The next post will hopefully have some bustling pics of town.

See ya soon!

A Fine Line

Take a long hard look at this face. Is this the face of a killer? Bandana, my favourite person, has obviously been leading a double life. Tonight he came back to camp with a bloody leg, and I was running around trying to find Danielle (thanks, Bandana, for making me look like an idiot), and when I did she looked down her nose at me forlornly and said in a foreboding tone, “Its not his blood.” She didn’t know who the poor victim was (looked like a marmot), but Bandana is most certainly not getting any dinner, because he’s been a very bad boy. You wouldn’t know it from the look on his face though – he looks like a big happy goofy fool.

Spring has come to Logtung! I can finally make my way across the snow without slipping into oblivion or getting snow blindness. That meant I could go for a lovely evening hike up the south ridge to (ahem) get a sample. The hike happened; the sample didn’t, and my excuse is crap rock – really weathered, bad news rock. So instead I took pictures. This is the view to the southeast, at about 9:30pm.

I find that in the city, we are bombarded (for good reason) with warnings about our imploding environmental situation. It always feels like we’ve already past the point of no return, that there is no hope. How do you stop the western industrialist society (cliché – but true), especially when the most populous countries are only just now beginning to live as we do (horrendously unsustainably)? But when I come up here, and I look at a vista like this, with negligible development aside from our little “road” and there is no trace of brown smog on the horizon, and there is nothing but huge spaces, untouched, there IS hope.

Many people view what we do as ‘anti-environmental’ as though we are raping the earth so-to-speak. But the literal footprint of a mine is so very small compared to the benefits, such as the positive impact on the economy of Northern communities who are really, really suffering. If you are someone with no way out, with no chance of ever getting out, what could it mean to have work -good work- on your doorstep? It could mean survival. The ecological footprint of forestry practices or even a single major highway is far greater. Reclamation practices render it almost impossible to tell a mine existed. Some people would say we make excuses, but I challenge any of them to live as we do, out here in the wild, where life and death are truly co-mingling everyday before our eyes, as Bandana so eloquently reminded me tonight. Where we must turn on the oil stove when we want heat and actually know how much oil we are using on a daily basis. We must fill our own water tanks, and fuel tanks, and bring in all the supplies we need for weeks at a time. We must dig our own latrines. We see firsthand exactly the kind of impact we have, in everything we do. For the critics in the city, their comfortable lives are very, very expensive, and they have no idea. They have no idea how much water they use, how much food they consume, how much waste they produce, or how much gas it takes to heat their homes. The only place they feel it is in their wallets, at the gas pump. In truth, we are the real environmentalists, because if it has to be done, we'll see to it ourselves that it's done right. We got into this because we love nature.

That’s my rant for now – sorry to get serious. I’m just sick of these people driving around in their hybrids criticizing anyone associated with the resource and energy industry. Where the hell do you think the steel came from for your fancy side impact beams?

To finish on a light note, I’ll let the picture below speak for itself. Now that is wise consumption right there. Mum, Meg – how d’ya like them apples? Happy Father’s Day Dad!

miss ya!

The Big Meltdown

Here's a view from the top of one of the ridges, looking east. Still so much snow after a week of hot hot weather! The streams are in flood from the runoff, though, so hopefully I may soon see some real rocks.

Looks like only one more day until the clouds come back. All of us are brown as berries (I don’t think I went this dark in Hawaii), and floating around in a haze. It’s extremely hot in the core shack; a plywood structure with a clear plastic roof, in other words, a greenhouse. A big brimmed hat, sunscreen and Gatorade gets me through the day, and I’m not complaining, because I’ve seen this place in a snowstorm and it ain’t pretty. Then there’s the lamping room, which I spent half the day in today. Nothing like a tiny sealed box inside a greenhouse in 30 degree weather to make you feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. And its pitch black (so we can see the fluorescing minerals), which you would think would have a cooling effect but instead feels like a coffin. Not pleasant!

My alternative is ironic; I could try to get my next rock sample from the other side of the upper bowl, but the picture (at right) shows what happened yesterday when I attempted that. Aside from falling armpit deep into snow, it was a good idea (except that coming back from that our packs weigh 25kg more, so we’d probably never be seen again). It was very refreshing seeing as I was wearing a tank top. Lee did what any responsible supervisor does when his student falls neck deep in snow and can’t move: he laughed his ass off at me and took pictures. Thanks, Lee. Its nice to know you’ve got my back when the going gets tough.

Today we hit some speedbumps; the truck got across the mudpit via the Cat, but then blew a tire, and is now smack dab in the middle of the road. It also had all the fuel drums in it which need to get to the drill. Dave has been remarkably cool and calm about this predicament, in spite of the fact that we have no spare tire. Now that Lee is gone, I’m on my own (albeit with Danielle and Eileen) to deal with the ‘characters’ in camp. The young drillers and geotechs have taken on a kind of pack mentality away from civilization. I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for the regular meals, this place would deteriorate rapidly into some kind of Lord of the Flies scenario. Thank goodness for Eileen’s pie!

The mozzies are out, and they’re not taking any crap from anyone. The citronella coils don’t even phase them. Not even the Bob Izumi-endorsed Deep Woods OFF scares them. I guess he’s just not that intimidating. What ever happened to good old-fashioned illegal 40% deet Repex? Also, the bees and ants are the size of small cats. Last night I watched our cute little tame swallow eat one alive on the cook-shack steps. The ptarmigans must be in mating season or something, because they’re acting extra stupid. Ah, the wonders of nature.

Anyways, here's Bandana taking down some field notes. He's always ready to help out! Him and his sister, Kita, are Husky sled dogs. They've been taking the heat alright, seeing as they usually find some creative place to curl up, but they don't get active until the sun dips behind the ridgeline, which is pretty much bedtime for us. This results in some restless pacing in our tent on Banadana's part, which is very wolf-like. He's got a human personality, and he's my favourite person in camp.

Miss you guys!

Midnight Sun...almost.

Time is flying by here at Logtung, the tropics of the North. Every day has been over 25 and gorgeous, so my geo-tan (the forearms and the face only) is excellent. Yesterday we hiked up to the top of the NE ridge and grabbed a bulk sample for isotopes – it was so nice to get up and out of camp. Then we did some coreshack stuff down in camp in the afternoon so we ended up getting a lot of sun. The top picture was taken at midnight (the magic hour), looking Southeast. There's still a tiny strip of pink light on the crest of the ridge.

When Dave arrived back from a trip to Teslin with popsicles (just about the most difficult treat you can attempt to bring into the field in hot weather) we were ready to kiss his feet. Since Dave doesn’t say much and communicates with a series of shrugs (which I deeply respect), this was an extreme display of love on his part, and Danielle and I almost gave him hugs (but we realized the traumatizing affect it would have on him). He’s such a softy underneath.
Each night we watch another episode of Little Britain which is getting more offensive every sketch, and I’m always scared Danielle is going to walk into the cook-tent when some horribly politically incorrect thing is happening – there have been some very close calls. We’re also trying to get a walk in during the magic hour when the sun is just right and it cools off a bit, so we don’t go stir-crazy. Lots of good pictures! Then its bedtime, and it’s been so nice having Bandana and Kita curled up at the end of my bed every night – it makes the lack of Sydney and Tolkien a little more bearable. Mom- I am soooo hooked on the French Lieutenant’s Woman. So good – and I can’t believe its John Fowles that wrote it! A world apart from The Magus.

Last night was Steak to order, salad, mashed potatoes, corn and rhubarb pie. Heck yes – Eileen the cook is pretty fabulous, and is extremely sensitive to our ever-changing gastronomic whims – since it’s been hot, everyone’s eating way less. The snow is melting before our eyes, but that still doesn’t change the fact that a 14ft high bank is covering most of the mineralized ridge (see right, where I try to push it over the edge - and off the rocks - myself). I’m getting frustrated, seeing as most of the good area isn’t going to melt for another week.

Meg: each post has a place for comments at the bottom, so post them on the most recent one each time. Also – I replied (and will continue to) to your message within the comments section so check back and you’ll find I’ve written back in the same spot you did. It’s easier that way. Do you guys have dates for Liz and Jeff yet?

Hope to hear from you guys later!

Wireless internet... There goes the beer plan.

When you’re scheduled to fly on 6/6/6 you kind of expect the worst, but overall the first day of this field season was just surprising, not satanic. I thought it was going to be a nice organizational evening in Whitehorse when we arrived yesterday afternoon, but instead we had a truck with the keys in the ignition, and instructions to book it out to the Logtung junction to meet Dave, the Camp Manager. So we quickly grabbed some good coffee in town and left right away, without so much as a phone call, and accepted our mission.

We stopped in Teslin to pick up two quad tires, 4 buckets of drill mud and a mystery box for the drill company, and while Lee was in the store I got accosted by an overzealous drunken fellow whose name I didn’t catch. He told me he’d borrow $200 bucks and we could go to Vegas and blow it all. Wahoo. I got a giant bear hug and a few more unmentionable comments (which were supposed to be flattering but instead made me cringe) before I pretty much elbowed him in the gut (and mentioned my 6’4” football playing boyfriend) to get away. Ahhhh, the local character. And it was still only 4:30.

When we arrived exactly on time at 6pm at the junction, Dave was nowhere to be seen so we sat and ate chips. Dave showed up later and said very little, which I figured out later was probably due to fear that we wouldn’t make it up the 12 km road, which was actually a giant oubliette of mud and slop. Most of it was ok, with only a few scary tire spins, until we got to the bad spot.

It was pretty amazing. It was the Bog of Eternal stench (except it wasn’t that smelly) come to real life. But luckily, a giant skidder (= a giant tractor with very deep treads and giant rims) with a chain was set up at the spot for just this purpose. Dave fearlessly made it through, and his truck looked like it was riding the high seas as it went through at about 100km an hour. He hooked up our truck to the skidder and pulled us through. It was absolutely amazing to feel the truck get pull by this thing and yet feel that under the truck the wheels weren’t actually touching any solid ground, just sort of floating along the top of it. But we made it, and I can check off yet another odd form of field transportation.

12 km (and another hour and a half) later we reached camp which has utterly changed forever. Last year it was Lee and I and that’s it, no man made structures, just an old road. Now there’s a cook-shack, a washhouse, six tent frame cabins, an outhouse, a big core-shack, an office tent, an industrial generator and a drill running 24 hours. There’s three trucks, an ATV, 10 people (including a cook), and three dogs. And now us. Its great – there’s even wireless internet which is how I’m able to write this, but I think I like the fly camps better than drill camps. I like the pristine wilderness better. The picture below is a nice view of where our little camp was last year - it was just inside that upper cirque at the far upper right of the photo.

The best part is the dogs. They’re husky crosses and they are therefore very vocal, and join in almost every conversation with howls and yelps and really odd sounds unless they’re sleeping (and obviously dreaming about chasing caribou). The snow is still very deep, up to 40ft drifts in some places, so we’re praying for sun to come in and melt it off our rocks. Since I’ve been stuck in camp looking at drill core all day and sorting everything out with the core loggers etc, I can’t wait to get out for a hike.

I miss everyone! Already! And I don’t care how dumb that is. Mom, dad gramma don't worry about bears - the uberloud generator that runs 24 hours a day keeps the bears away.
Meg I had chocolate cake!!! In the field!! and it was pretty good. Joshie I hope you figure out what a blog is and how to find mine. Love you guys. P.S. I'm makin 250 a day and we had ribs for dinner.

I am a geologist.

Here's me and my gramma at the Rose Garden on the big day.

I expected anticlimactic, but instead I had a freakin fun time gradumicating on friday afternoon. First, the reception catering was pretty damn good - lots of little finger foods and what-not. And they gave me medal. Hey I'm not braggin - who said I was braggin? But its gold. I love....gooooolllld.

Then we got our cap and gown and went upstairs to Keorners' and pounded back some good-luck shots. Specifically, they were Dr. Peppers. And I felt a LOT better after that. In fact I'm sure thats why I didn't fall down the stairs after crossing the stage. Later on, I heard Stoo and Lee got trashed right before too - that explains all the snickering as I walked by. Hey stoo - don't laugh. You were wearing a goddamn dress.

After that, I got tipsy with my parents, my gramma and Meg (my sis) at Vintropolis, and then stuffed my face full of meat at Aqua Riva. They spoiled me absolutely rotten and I didn't deserve it at all because I wouldn't have gotten through this goddamn degree if it wasn't for them. I should have been spoiling them. Weirdly enough there was a high-school grad going on at the Pan Pacific as we were eating, and it turned out it was my old alma mater Terry Fox! PoCO! Seems as the years go on, the girls get poofier and more neon in colour. The guys never seem to learn that a white sport jacket is just about as smooth as a comb-over.

After that, we dropped the car off and headed to the Bourbon for some smashy-smashy. That was also excellent, as Meatball showed me her (exquisite) bum, I got groped repeatedly by Josh, I drank about eight double-tall seabreezes, and the staff was playing some absolutely ridiculous music which made Mike feel spastic. I'm not sure what yuppie demographic the Bourbon is trying to appeal to all of a sudden with the new rules about no pitchers after 8pm and the easy listening yet 90's grunge vibe, but the regulars are still coming, and I don't think they're about to leave. Might as well get used to us, people. At least we're not puking in the corners anymore.

One more pic of Rex and I being gimps.

T-minus eight days and counting until I become that dirty bush girl again. I'm gonna make 'em count.

The most wonderful time of the year

T-minus 1.5 days and counting until I show up to the lovely Oliver field school and behold the usual familiar sights, such as the one at right. Yes, that is a body hanging off the delapidated picnic table, post campfire. I believe this person is alive, but I'm really not too sure. This must be Chammers or Ross. Who knows?

I can't get these bloody PDA's to work either, so we can try mapping digitally. We're supposed to be all high tech testing out these little palm computers to map with but to be honest I think its just even more evidence of my incompetence. At least its not a Brunton. Those things scare the crap out of me.