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| From left to right: 2 days, 3 years, and so far 1 shift but will probably last a while |
This year seems to be a lot more dedicated to reading and journaling (and... other distractions) than to blogging. Nevertheless, here is a scramble of events that may or may not be interesting.
One day,
Rainer forgot to turn the water on in the afternoon. As a result, only the
first crew back to camp was able to take showers. By dinnertime, enough water
had heated to shower three more people. For the most part, however, people had
to truly live out the cliché of the dirty treeplanter.
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| Laska, ideal block doggo |
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| I spy Laska |
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| Block snacks |
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| Empty bags at the end of the day |
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| Fancy block outfits; New hat this year! |
After showering on a particularly cold day, I made the same mistake I did in my first year: literally walking into the woodstove. Only this time, I did so walking forward rather than backward. As a result, a large burn formed on my shin, which is the most inconvenient place to have a large, bubbling burn while tree planting. I first decided to let it heal itself, which would have been fine if it weren’t a friggin planting camp. It ended up reopening on the block every day, then the blood would dry over of my legging, sealing them onto my leg so I’d have to peel them off and reopen the burn every evening after work. After two days (and many comments from the crew), I finally decided to see the camp medic, who covered it in disinfectant and taped gauze overtop.
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| Peeling my tights off after the first day |
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| It split open much worse on the second day |
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| Peeling off the leggings was also more difficult |
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| Here's my palm gettin' all callused |
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| One of the planters split her knuckle open |
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| Planting topless is a great idea for about 2 hours |
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| Heat rash |
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| Toes starting to get all peely from not getting enough air. Yummy |
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| Bruising up |
This year, William organized his own crew and had initially planned to take on his own contract completely. However, when a larger company outbid him for a couple of the blocks, he ended up back at Cathy and Rainer’s in his old role as a crew boss for most of May. At the end of the month, he drove his crew up to northern British Columbia for the blocks he did get, where they would form their own small camp.
Since William used to be Braeden’s crew boss, Braeden often compared his own style of crew bossing to William’s in the beginning. He says things like “William would be making fun of me so hard right now!” or “William would never do this.” He does this much less now, as he’s become more independent in his own crew bossing. He’s also becoming less quick-tempered, which is a relief for everyone on the crew. Since the entire crew is first years except for him and I, there is often a lot of confusion on the block. At the beginning of the season, other planters would be coming to me with questions about the block because they didn’t want him to shout at them. By now, things have calmed down a lot; the rookies are more accustomed to the way blocks work and Braeden gets angry less.
He has, however, gotten the truck stuck twice, which has been exciting both times.
With William’s crew planting here as well, we went through trees much quicker than expected at the beginning of the contract. As a result, we had an extra day off and an early proposed finish date of June 15, much to everyone’s frustration. However, with an extra day off, we did end up going on a separate adventure. Not too far from camp is Sulfur Springs, which has excellent jumping rocks.
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| Sulfer Springs for the extra day off |
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| Cliff-jumping |
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| There are three different cliffs, each of a different jumping height |
On one of the nights off, someone in camp made an entire cooler full of sangria. As it was starting to get low, William, prompted by much cheering around the fire, took the entire cooler and drained it down his throat.
Immediately, the members of his crew looked at him with an expression of both shock and disgust.
“That’s our boss!” They screamed, “he’s taking us into the middle of nowhere! God help us!"
“Haaaa!” William cheered, tossing the cooler aside and pointing at them, “I’m in charge! You guys are stuck with me!”
As the night went on, the fire grew larger, the drugs came out, and the alcohol disappeared faster. Once-innocent greeners were staggering across the grounds, collapsing into bushes before others came to help them back to their tents.
People started splitting off after around 2am and I found myself starting to fall into a drunken sleep. Since my own tent was far away, I ended up making my way over to William's tent, since it was closer and his bed is more than large enough for two people (solid logic, right?).
Around an hour later, William staggers into his tent, strips down entirely, and plops down onto his bed. I grunt sleepily in acknowledgment.
"Oh!"William exclaims, but in a not-all-that-surprised way, "you're here?"
"Your bed's comfier than mine," I mutter as he slides an arm around me (or did I yank his arm around me? I don't quite remember; it could've been either).
"What is this, Goldilocks and the Three Bears?" he laughs, "This one's tooooo big; this one's tooooo small -"
"But this one's juuuust right," we both finish and burst out laughing, then promptly pass the fuck out and don't wake up until several hours after he was already supposed to have left for town.
Two days later, Jasmine and I are bouncing on the block.
"That's some great confidence," she chuckles as I relay the story of randomly showing up in William's bed.
"Yeaaaa," I respond, "I think it's the kind of confidence that's only acceptable when everyone's wasted."
After William’s crew left, someone wandered into the mess tent on the day off asking “Anyone know what happened to that tent with the KKK hood?” Never made the connection before, but now it’s undeniable. Suddenly the once-spectacular marvel of a tent, equipped with a chimney and everything, became a uncomfortable.
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| William's facy-ass tent, otherwise known as the KKK hood |
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| 9/10 office environment |
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| It would be 10/10, but the murdered forest takes it down a notch |
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| A maple-bacon sunday; it sounds far more exciting than it tastes |
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| More photos from the drive to/from work |
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| Sometimes farmers leave their horses to roam the crown land we plant |
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| The late-night reading group (although not much reading is taking place here). Photo credits to Mariya, who loves to take photos of camp life and share them to the Facebook group |
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| Uncle Jim! Photo credits, again, to Mariya |
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Cunt: A Declaration of Independence by Ingrid Muscio (AND a foreword by Betty frickin Dodson)
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
Educated by Tara Westover
On the to-read list:
Narrative of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass
The Art of Revolt by Geoffroy de Lagasnerie
Walden by Henry David Thoreau
Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde
