Blanketed in White

My second 'hitch', which is what they call each set of consecutive days in camp, was back at the same small camp I had been at a week before. This one was scheduled to be three weeks as well, but was cut short for shutdown after a week. I've since learned that this is common, especially in the spring when the ground begins to thaw and mud thwarts the efforts of the workers out on the rigs. In the meantime, however, I unpacked my camera and recorded more of that perfect snow and a little bit of life on the inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This one was actually taken from inside through a dirty window. I liked the effect.

 

 

 

This is how lightly the snow falls in landlocked Alberta. It's not the wet, heavy texture I've been used to, that's for sure!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These ones were taken on a side trip to another camp relatively nearby. The mountains you can see far off in the distance are in British Columbia!

 

 

 

 

 Some more shots of my entire world:

 

 

 

 

 

and on the inside:

 

the kitchen

 

my morning commute!

 

 

home sweet home.

 

 

and the dining room, where we shared our meals and socialized with other actual, for real, human beings...

 

...until we could get back to the cities.

Downtown Calgary

I spent my first days off in Calgary at my cousin's. After three weeks in isolation, I was looking forward to the hustle and bustle of the city. Calgary was surprisingly warm for that time of year, and it was fantastic to take my camera and walk downtown in a city that seemingly was made to be draped in snow.

 

I think I could learn to love the city again.

Camp Life: A Whole New World

On January 25, 2015, I got on a bus in Edmonton and made my way to Grande Prairie in northwest Alberta. I was to be picked up by the company vehicle the next morning and would spend that night in a hotel before heading out. I was glued to the window for the entire four-hour bus ride. The prairies are stunning and the skies here blow my mind.
 

 

From my hotel room in Grande Prairie, I discovered where the town got its name. It's very grand... and very, very prairie.
 

 The next morning, I headed to the dining room for breakfast at the hotel before my ride arrived. The room was packed full and there were very few empty seats. I chose one at a table with the only other female in the room. "First time in camp?" she asked. "Yes." "I've been going for years. The van will be here soon. Which camp are you going to?" and when I told her, she, to my absolute surprise, replied, "Me too. I'm Brandy. I'm your Camp Manager."

So THAT's how this is going to go.

I spent the next three weeks here:
 

I worked dayshift, 8:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. 7 days a week, cleaning rooms, stocking shelves, and learning about life in isolation. My camp was small: it housed about 60 people, most of whom were men, and all of whom were tradespeople aside from the 7 or so of us who were there as staff.

Despite having 12-hour shifts, I did get a few minutes outside with my cameras, where I fell in love with the pure white beauty of the untouched snow that is northern Alberta in the winter.

This is the road that goes past my camp. It's actually straight, but the panoramic nature of the photo makes it appear curved, but other than that, this is it: this stunning reminder of just how much world is out there is where I lived day in, day out.

It's a life that is not for the faint of heart, but I learned that I am made to live out of a suitcase, to be constantly moving, not knowing where I will be living from week to week. It's stressful and exhausting, and it's not a life I could live on a long-term basis. But I'm here for the adventure, and that makes it all worth it in the end.