Whoa. Hello there, again. Greetings from the middle of nowhere. I`ve been shipped off to camp to recover from a sprained wrist obtained from falling down a scree slope with a heavy backpack. There are about 40 people here, living in wall tents, all doing a bunch of mining shit. There is a camp dog named Gunner and the constant whine of generators and helicopters. I`ve been alternating between surveying and working in a core shack, inputting data, fighting with Excel. That`s right, baby, I`m privy to sensitive information. Jealous? I didn`t think so.
Camp life is good so far, although there is a distinct lack of work ethic present in my new roommates. If you wear makeup every day in a mining camp, I will judge you freely and often. It`s easy to tell who`s here to make summer cash and who genuinely enjoys geology and exploration. I am actually learning a ton every day. Our main geologist is great. This morning over breakfast, he speculated that no one really needed to carry bear spray, because as long as you kept your wits about you and were able to get a good punch off on the bear`s nose, there would be no reason to worry. Speaking of breakfast, the food is ultra-gourmet. Tonight, lamb with rosemary and garlic potatoes, green beans, pasta salad, fruit tart with cinnamon and cardamon, and a lot more. Good lord.
I have been working mostly with an intense 3rd-year geo student named Oliver, who holds your gaze directly when talking. He`s hilarious, but I`m never sure if he`s exasperated with me or not. He is also 6-foot something, so keeping up while scrambling through the bush is a challenge and a half. My kingdom for a longer pair of legs.
Sarah, don`t worry about the letter, I will write you soon. A cross-country marimba band tour would be an adventure, I hope your plans come to fruition.