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It's 14.44 on the 24th of June. In this blog I will write about our last 2 working days of the week, and then our day off on Sunday.
We got up Friday morning at the usual time. As I entered the dining room Rico asked me if I could give him a hand with doing the dump run in Golden that morning. I agreed, as it would be good to get out of the Lodge for a while. So we jumped in the flatbed truck that was already loaded up with a mountain of bin bags and secured with a slightly sketchy looking tarp. We began up the logging road on the way to the highway that took us into Golden and, just before we hit the main road, was stopped by a phone call from Raph. He told us to stop and pullover to check the oil. We did, and found it completely dry. So, as we waited for someone to come up with some oil we set about trying to fasten the tarp down a little better.
Before long one of the Polish guys came down the road in the red truck with a box of oil bottles.
We emptied 2 entire bottles into the engine, then set off down the highway. It was somewhat of a nerve wracking journey as we had no wing mirrors and the rear view was obscured by the bin bags. So, to pull out we had to indicate and hope for the best. It goes without saying there were a couple close calls. Regardless, we made it to the dump - a place that evidently looks exactly the same regardless of continent - and backed the truck up to the Active Face. There was a guy working there who was the absolute epitome of a hillbilly or redneck. He waded through the rotting refuse and picked items out for keeping. He told us, clearly with great pride, how one time he found a whole $6. We feigned interest and climbed up onto the flatbed to begin tossing the bags onto the tip. The bags were all covered in maggots, some drowned in the dirty water in the folds of the refuse sacks. It was not the most pleasant job, but we quickly got it done and escaped the hick's almost unintelligible ramblings.
The next stop the was the Petro-Canada depot, where we
were to fill a huge tank with prepaid diesel. Neither Rico or I had the slightest idea how to do this, but luckily a huge man squeezed into Petro-Canada overalls came along and filled up for us. From there it was back down the highway to the lodge for lunch. The journey back was less hair-raising as we could see out the back and there was no rubbish that could go flying into the person behind's windscreen at 100km/h.
When we returned lunch had been prepared, so we ate and got back to work at about 2.30. The job for the afternoon was to clean out and service all of the wagons in the wagon train out at the campsite. The four of us set about with the sweeping and bed making, a job that took us up to the end of the working day. It was a quieter evening that night, with the group that had gone camping returning exhausted and dirty while the rest of us spent the majority of the evening sitting in the lounge and chatting. It was bed relatively soon after that, head hitting the pillow by about 12 midnight.
The next day, Saturday, was
another normal work day. We split into two groups, with Rosie and Kate finishing off work that needed doing to the wagons as well as helping out with the laundry - while Matt and I went to the cabin and began the task of loading all of the miscellaneous junk back into the roof. This was somewhat demoralising as we had literally just taken all of this stuff out, and were hoping that someone would come down and sort out the stuff for the tip from the stuff that could be used up at the lodge. However, three days had passed since we had emptied the loft and no one had even glanced at the assorted items sprawled out in front of the cabin, so we decided to load everything back in before it was completely ruined by the rain that usually rolled in at night.
The job was easy but time consuming, so Matt and I chatted as we crossed paths up the stairs and back down again. After our break we continued again, the items becoming bigger and heavier as we moved the easiest stuff first. The ground floor of the cabin had been done up the morning
before by Rosie, Matt and Kate - with the sofas put around to create a seating area and fairy lights wrapped around the staircase. So, more and more Matt and I deviated from repacking the roof to adding bits and bobs we found in amongst the junk to the downstairs. Before long Rosie and Kate joined us and we soon had table and chairs, lamps, rugs, hat-racks and more set up in the little room.
By the end of the working day we had the furniture completely set up and the rest of the stuff safely stowed in the roof. We carried out our usually routine in the evening, then after dinner headed down to the river to light a campfire. It was the perfect setup - we had beers, marshmallows, a river, mountains in the background, Rico on the guitar and Natalie & Georgie singing. We played a couple of rounds of the Wolf game - a sort of glorified Wink Murder - and then headed back about 1 when the rain set in. The departure was made a little more exciting when Laura fell into the river in the dark, which was followed by several seconds of confusion
and shouting, then several minutes of hysterical laughter.
The next day, Saturday, was our first day off. So, in classic day off style, we were up no earlier than 10.30. I skyped Mum and Dad then headed down to the wagon to do some reading before lunch. We had lunch, then the four of us and Rico headed 5 minutes down the logging road to a little lay-by where we parked and begun down a small track that was to take us to Wapta falls - one of the largest falls in Canada, but hidden away in the Kicking Horse valley.
The walk was fairly short, maybe only 20 minutes through a pine forest. From there, you come across a clearing in the woods - and the view opens up onto the falls. It was a surprise just how big they were, like a half scale model of The Horseshoe falls in Niagara. Once we'd all taken a few photos we headed down a steep path that lead to the shore of the river post-falls. We marvelled at the brilliance of the blue water, and walked a little way up the sand. We found a large jawbone there - possibly
of a stag or something similar - so each took a tooth as a souvenir and headed back up to the truck, enjoying the easy path and the dappled sunlight.
That evening was much like many other. We sat around in the lobby as there were no guests and Raph & Catherine had gone to bed, talking and reading - then eventually all playing a few rounds of the Wolf Game until past 2, when we finally trailed off to bed.
And so that is the end of our first week at Beaverfoot. We have one more week to go that, I'm sure, will go just as fast - if not faster.
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Dr John HW
John Hyder-Wilson
Beaverfoot matters
Sounds like a fantastic stay. You all obviously gelled with the other wwoofers and lifetime memories have clearly been made. Yes, dumps everywhere have an indefinable - or perhaps entirely definable - similarity: a rotting smell, odd characters wandering about and a depressing atmosphere. There is a guy at Worthing tip (an employee) who wears a cowboy hat and boots and has a grey beard. He strolls around with a broom and does very little. Sorry that Raph turned out to have feet of clay after a promising start - I keep thinking of your description of him 'almost having a fight' with another wwoofer. It also sounds like some of things you have had to do are mere job creation, i.e. emptying about a loft and then putting everything back again. More likely just poor management. Off to Seville tomorrow and back Sunday. Was good to speak the other day and will be fantastic to see you again in a few weeks. Dad