Sunday to Wednesday travel as proven by these photos.
The temperature was minus forty at the place I left, and minus thirty where I landed. Then we flew to where it was minus twenty.
Hence to the townhouse in Vancouver where is was a balmy plus seven (all Centigrade.)
The trip was north to the cold climates. Where, by tradition and repute you would expect to find Jack London men: hardy, drunken, freezing to death in tragic stories. Instead I found women in charge of mining.
Both my grandmothers were formidable women. Paternal dealt with the death of her husband in a mining rock-burst incident. Maternal lost her mining husband early and for many years ran a boarding house for miners, only to marry one when her three kids were grown. I love strong women in mining for they are part of me, my heritage, and my ethic.
Hence to find a woman in charge of the mining department, to consult to a woman in charge of the process plant, and hence the tailings impoundment that I consult on. Thus to advise a woman on mine closure plans, is a privilege, an honor, a pleasure, and a great hope for my two daughters who are civil engineers. The elder of my daughters consults to the mining industry—I must therefore rejoice in the success of women in mining.
This is me at minus forty. The driver of the truck was a woman who is in charge of the aquatic and piscine studies at the mine. She drove the noisy diesel truck with aplomb across the snow-covered roads. My woman client sat with me as we inspected facilities and made profound engineering conclusions.
It was cold, believe me. Snow covered the landscape to the horizon. The sun was bright and reflected off the pure white snow. All was pristine: warm to the look. bright to the feel, and beautiful to the emotions. Almost like the dom of the Snow Queen.
I recall my first girl-friend. She was the daughter of the mine’s doctor. She became a chemical engineer on the mines. It seemed strange at the time. I recall the blond lass who was the only female in our civil engineering classes. She told me once she chose civil engineering because it was, in her opinion, the best way to meet eligible men. I still do not know what prompted my two daughters to become civil engineers—it was not my urging. But they are happy and that makes me happy. They are successful and thus I enjoy success.
I have hesitated to post this. I could be accused of sexism, of being politically incorrect, of focussing on the inessential. I plead in response only that what I did is factual, what I observed is impressive, that I am proud of my daughters, and that I am honored to serve women clients in mining. I write what I do here, because I blog—and blogs should be honest records of inner thoughts. No offence is intended. No perspective is proposed. No purpose or aim is sought. This is simply a record of this week’s trip and a few idle thoughts.
If, however, you are offended, disagree, or have ideas to add, please comment.
PS. Here is the only photo I have of my maternal grandmother who ran Ma Brett’s Miners Boarding House and married Joe Roney, one of her boarders when her kids were grown