Sunday, July 30, 2006

Extra Extra... Read all about it!

News Flash!!

I have been offered the day off tomorrow!

I may have to take it as I am not so sure when another opportunity like this will come up again. Yesterday I got out of the "office" at 7, fed by 8, half in the bag 10:30. First time in two weeks I got to bed before tomorrow.

I could partly blame OLN and there Tour de France coverage for that.

Pretty slow on the news front this week, almost completely uneventfull. All of the machines that were in during the last week have taken off but they will be replaced by another fleet this week. Last Saturday we had 7 helicopters here during the day. All making money for the company. Meanwhile poor old Canadian has only 2 and close up their doors at 5pm sharp it seems. Oh well, too bad for them, we know where we can find the pot of gold.

In the category of "What the hell is that thing doing here?" Is this little number:



The photo was pinched from the net because it's pretty hard to get up close to them when they are on the ramp, kind of like when the Swedes showed up a couple of weeks ago; no photos then either. So this particular aircraft showed up a couple of days ago and I could only make out a bit of it and thought that it might have been part of the Red Bull or Quicksilver fleet. So I asked a driver of one of the fuel trucks asking what he knew, the response was predictable. "Some rich American guy, comes up here every year to go fishing on Great Bear Lake". It is amazing what you can find out there on the internet and it is particularly useful on those days when I am a little short on material, came in handy looking for a picture of the plane. A little more digging and I found out that not only is the owner of that plane rich American, he also has a thing for pansies.

Whatever floats your boat.

...Or plane in this case.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Celebrity, Intrigue and More Beer Please



You would think that having not left the hangar before 11:00pm the last 5 nights I would have had plenty of time to update well boredom finally got the best of me and here it is.

A few things have happened in the sprawling metropolis of Norman Wells since the last report…

It was looking pretty bleak for material. Initially I had typed up this little tale of how it rains bugs in the hangar, a crazy phenomenon of which I had never witnessed before.

The brief version is this:

No matter how often I sweep or mop the hangar floor within minutes little fly carcasses are found everywhere. I documented the evidence CSI style; careful analysis of the scene revealed to me that the cause of death was the skylights.

The Horsefly’s get into the hangar and buzz around aimlessly, can’t find their way back to the real big door that they entered through and head for the bright light from the roof. Still buzzing they then begin bashing their little heads on the translucent roof until they finally tire right out and take a 30foot plunge straight down… 100’s of them. It’s a losing battle and almost imperative that appropriate PPE be donned in the hangar to keep them from falling into your hair. Fortunately things perked up a little around here and I don’t have to tell anybody that story.

Since then we have had all sorts of events occur here.

Celebrity

International intrigue.

And drunk guys.

So the drunks showed up just over a week ago when they poured themselves and 2200lbs of gear off a Caravan. Three of them up this way to plumb up some new fuel tanks at tower sites for Northwest Tel. A good portion of their equipment never showed up so they did what they know best when faced with such a situation…Started drinking. Undaunted, for the next couple of days they organized what they did have, stopping only to replenish supplies, which is no mean feat here considering that the liquor store opens at five with “strict” daily limits and they were back at their hotel by 6.

It’s sheep hunting season right now. Great time to either have been a resident of the Northwest Territories for 2 years or be somewhat well off and come from somewhere else. I had been told that the only reason that this base goes a little nutty in summer is because of all the tourists loaded with smoke-poles or launching pointed sticks at the critters. One of the first of the clients turned out to be somewhat well known in hunting circles. He showed up to the hangar looking like the fatter southern cousin of Clark Kent and when the idea of a pre flight safety briefing was brought up he quick changed into the Redneck Messiah. Complete with camera crew. Seems that this particular fellow owns his own bow hunting company and the best way to promote his product is run around in a fancy outfit with a fat guy and a digital video camera. Turns out that fat guys and bow hunting is good business. During his flight to the lodge he was mentioning that he just bought a new helicopter of his own. An EC120, apparently he had an R44 but he didn’t like the squeaking sound of the drive belts.

Not long after my brush with fame the Drunk guys spilled into the hangar. They had all their gear and wanted to know when they could get a helicopter. Could be a couple of days I told them, but that was no problem because the budget was padded and they had plenty of beer.

So there I was again pondering the days “rainfall” in the hangar when I thought I heard the sound of sirens. All of a sudden there was the sound of thunder. Not real thunder but jet engine kind of thunder. Odd considering that the Canadian North flight left two hours previously and wasn’t due back for at least another 20. I felt it time to leave my post in between the telephone and the broom to again further investigate. I thought it was an invasion. Really sleek and fast military jets were orbiting the airport. They didn’t look like anything we owned. We are close to an air defense zone where all traffic is to identify themselves and their intentions before entering. Perhaps a Canadian military escort to the nearest airstrip was occurring. Nope a little more exciting than that apparently.

For weeks one of the guys here was always joking about the Swedish Bikini Team dropping by for a visit and when the Swedish Air Force showed up he thought not only had his dreams come true but they also came with a military escort. The Swedes were in fact making their way from Yellowknife to Fairbanks for some big military exercise when one of their fancy new aircraft had a little issue. The life support system on board one of them had a malfunction and being that everything these days is controlled by computers, the super fancy jet plane has this 20 minute warning system. That is, should the life support system fail the pilot has 20 minutes to willingly put the plane on the ground. If 20 minutes should somehow pass and the plane is still airborne the on board computers default reaction is to ensure the pilots useful consciousness. This is made possible by automatically ejecting the pilot from the aircraft… Whether he or she is willing or not.

A distress call was made, CYVQ was in lockdown and all was well, save for the one pilot here who is still traumatized about the fact that scantily clad blondes failed to deplane from the big Hercules that tagged along for support.

A day or so later and little excitement occuring,one of the two drunk guys called from the tower they were at wondering whether or not the third was coming out with the 204 that night-the machine was being utilized to move few large fuel tanks- with their dinner. Seems that the 10 beers that they brought along for lunch was just not cutting it and they were getting a little peckish. Sure enough Randy showed up with his maximum allowable daily ration (one flat and a 40oz bottle) and all was good with the world again.

All of this crazy intrigue around town and I haven’t even mentioned the little forest fire just to the south of town. Nothing terribly exciting save for another one of those old Buffalo DC-4s rumbling right next to us for a couple of days.

Oh! oh!!!

I almost forgot about the hunters that had to be rescued two days ago because during one of the little storm cells that have a habit of developing during the afternoon in the mountains, the thunder spooked their horses and they went on a flyer not to be seen again. After 4 days without transportation they too poured themselves from one of our machines not long after our other drunk guys disembarked after a prematurely shortened stay at their tower site. I suspect that the special order of tequila they picked up that morning didn’t survive the three days they had intended. I am not yet convinced that I have seen them sober since their arrival and would love to give these guys the benefit of the doubt as I didn’t have the opportunity to greet them yesterday morning. However the 204 was dispatched out to the site again in the afternoon but had to hold back and wait for the delivery of two important items:

Clean laundry and another flat.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Burnt Weenie Sandwich



Good news and bad news in the last couple of days.

The good:

The gastronomic gods have smiled oh so briefly upon me and the community today. I think I may have figured out how to shop for groceries in this town. The beauty of my proximity to the airport is being able to hear just about everything that comes and goes. All of the food is delivered by Buffalo Airways and I am not so sure that it is on a regularly scheduled basis. But I do know that all of the aircraft are of the WWII vintage; my favorite is the C-46. The only reason that this is significant is that they are noisy I mean loud… The only way you would miss their arrival or departure would be if your head was buried in a turbine engine. It’s a reassuring sound because it is the sound of hope. That something interesting may arrive at Mary’s because the Northern is pretty much a lost cause.

Timing is critical as well. It must be adequate enough to allow for the shelves to be stocked, but not to allow too much of an opportunity for the rest of the inhabitants to scoop up the good stuff before I get the chance. The balance I believe is about 14-16 hours give or take. Everything buttons up tight by 8:00pm and doesn’t open until 10 the next morning. It is the next morning that is key, sure I am going to miss out on the absolute freshest veggies for the next 4-5 days but most of the good stuff will be there on the shelves. This morning my spirits lifted considerably when I spied the tastiest ground pork products I am aware of.

Behold!


I wonder If they will ever get the Chicken Sundried Tomato & Basil…

Mmmm…

Things are looking up in the Wells!

The bad:

Critters.

Big’ens.

White and furry.

Many sightings.

Sedna Camp.

What a pisser!! All of the cool stuff happens when I leave. It’s like this everywhere. Freeing the kamatuk from its icy grip in front of generator… No! the glory goes to the new guy.

Bastard!!

15 years ago I was in Costa Rica and there was an earthquake felt in Vancouver. Two weeks after I return to Vancouver a monster rocks Costa Rica. I suppose being charged by a Musk Ox was a little on the thrilling side but two seasons 18 miles from Hudson’s Bay and I don’t get the chance to see a single polar yogi that wasn’t already dead and either having it’s face ripped off or “drying” in some back-yard in Rankin Inlet.

So far no campers devoured

A boy can dream though… You’ll get yours. I here that Troubles coming. It might already be there by now.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Pimp My Supercycle


Still a little slow over at the hangar. This being the weekend we can’t expect much. A couple of the machines are already out in the field for the day and we are expecting the arrival of one of the mediums. Seems that the client isn’t satisfied with shuffling 9 geologists around with the 6 seater, they want to move everyone in one go so they have opted for the 204, the civilian version of the original Huey. Until the big bastard arrives we have to figure out what the project of the day will be.

It didn’t take long.

There have been over the weeks, months and years many complaints about the ride quality of my assigned machine. The old gal has been in a state of disrepair for some time and in need of some luvin’. Now is a good time to revel in its majesty.

The Supercycle Bullet

36 pounds of the highest quality Malaysian 2180 Steeltube construction; a rigid framed, 18 speed Gripshift equipped wonder of its time.

Parts highlights include:

The aforementioned Gripshift, second generation twist grip shifters
The finest in one-piece cranks
A revolutionary “F.I.S.” Falcon Index System rear derailleur.
And the super comfy 2-way sprung saddle.

Unfortunately the years have not been kind to the poor little thing and she has fallen into some disrepair. There is the tell tale cancer forming on all of the precision welds but most notably was the poor performance of the transmission. The left shifter literally, left to hang and twist in the wind a victim of some horrible mishap. The chain no longer able to move up or down the chainrings, just stuck in the tiny little 30 tooth granny gear. The Falcon was not pulling its weight either, being limited to only 5 of its 6 cogs. Then there is the saddle, any support it could give had since disappeared with the demise of its faux Corinthian vinyl. Our once proud Supercycle had since become a meek 5 speed likeness of it’s formal self.

The repairs began with the removal of the front shifter. The lack of a quality bike shop in town makes searching for replacement parts difficult and expensive. Not too many hills in these parts and the fact that it had only run on 5 of the 18 possible gears lead to this rash action.

Next we addresses the suspension/ride comfort issue or lack there of. Being made of high quality 2180 Steel tube, the Supercycle was the pinnacle in stiffness during its time. However times have changed and rigid frames are going the way of the dodo. Having the finest in aircraft-grade materials at our disposal I tackled the seating issue head on and managed to return the saddle to it’s once waterproof Barrca Lounger glory.

The cockpit was then addressed; with the removal of the front shifter, new grips were the next item on the list. Again we had to dip into the aircraft parts bin and re-taped the bars in the finest cork used on all of the Bell collectives. This was then dressed in high quality black hockey tape to cover up the unsightly seams of the cork and epoxy.

With all of the major complaints on the Supercycle dealt with, we had to dress up our new and improved girl with a little bling. Nothing like a set of streamers and axle end caps to add a little pizzaz to the new pride of the fleet. The transformation now complete, our ugly duckling is now one pimpin machine and the envy of every little girl in town.

The boys don’t seem too impressed. One of them has this motocross bicycle that I think I am beginning to covet. It’s this cool looking 24” wheeled fully suspended number that looks like a motocross bike complete with gas tank, radiator intake thingies and long seat with integrated fender. Now that kid has riding the bomb.

The first ride produced favorable impressions as I managed to make it to and from the crew house without bursting any of the patented suspension cells. One might describe the suspension as that of a really thick a jiggly gel saddle that squeaks with each pedal stroke.

Of course such a prime example of post-production modifications demands the latest in theft protection systems and when it arrives in Norman Wells we will be sure to employ it. Until then we must rely upon hiding it in the bushes cuz no-one knows the combo on the green chain currently wrapped around the glistening chrome of the 2180 Steeltube chick magnet.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

5 Days in Norman Wells

So it has been sometime since I posted an update and tonight time is what I got for I have been assigned the task of Flight Watch. The fancy new machine is making its way from Hay River to Inuvik with a brief stop in the Wells for fuel or perhaps the night if the crew is a little on the tired side. 1200+ kilometers of flying and I get to man the phone… waiting… for them to update with position and ETA until they finally arrive. Fuel them up if I am lucky drop them off at the hotel if I am not… In the meantime I type… and wait.

So not quite a week here in Norman Wells and I fear the blog may suffer… This place for me is a northern anomaly… It’s completely inhabited by normal people. I haven’t yet been asked to buy any carvings the dogs in town sleep inside their owner’s houses and thus far no Pamper trails anywhere. Thus far I have not yet witnessed anything that would make me laugh out loud. So here is what I can say

5 days into my latest foray into the weeds and I am left with quite the first impression of Norman Wells. It has just about everything a small town could possibly offer save for a few exceptions:

A road connecting it to the south… Except it melts out in the spring and then everyone has to wait until the river breaks up before any significant movement of goods returns, then the reverse when it gets cold.


A golf course… Except it only has three holes… Honest to goodness grass though.

Great local radio… Except the locale changes frequently at North West-Tel‘s discretion: one minute your listening to an Edmonton broadcast of Shania Twain and the next Bob Seger on Rock101 from Vancouver.

A spectacular view of the River and the mountains to the west… Except you have to be at the dump to appreciate it.

Sometimes I wonder if those hardened men of the Hudson’s Bay Company were playing some silly joke on the residents of the north when they were settling the land and establishing their trading posts. With the exception of Yellowknife so far the grandest vistas in all of the northern communities that I have had the pleasure of visiting have presented themselves while jettisoning some form of toxic waste at the local landfill. My guess is that the viewpoints started out just fine and then a few errant whiskey bottles at sunset resulted in rubber tires and hot water tanks 150yrs later.

This place even has a liquor store with a crazy daily limit that would lead to liver failure within weeks should one actually try to consume the limit on a daily basis.

Upon first glance the only thing this place lacks is vegetables. I think today was veggie day. Not a parking spot to be had at the “mall”. That or it was hot-wings at the Boiler Room, one of at least three legal drinking establishments.

All in all not it was not a bad introduction to my new summer home.

Hangar life isn’t so bad, thus far anyway; every pilot here gets assigned their own machine, here’s mine. Though I am not yet checked out on the helicopters I have been putting some quality time with the broom and mop. I might have logged near a 1.4 this week already. Somehow word got round that I know something about computers hammering nails gathering garbage and rolling drums. I assured them that my computer knowledge was limited but I have an excess amount of patience and I have no trouble with a hammer so long as I am not in bare feet. I was recently rewarded for my fabulous mopping and typing skills with a flight to Fort Good Hope where I rolled fuel drums and gathered garbage.

The boss like my work so much he gave me the phone tonight. Where I am still waiting…

The toilet was already cleaned today; I wonder what’s in store for tomorrow.