1999-Breathing sawdust

An American outfit had come to Salmo in 1998 to reopen an abandoned lumber mill located on a 40 acre site between Salmo and the small community of Ymir.They were calling it Labyrinth Lumber using a minotaur as the logo.
Taking advantage of government grants the mill was to be a value-added facility which was a new concept at the time where low graded lumber was purchased from other mills around the country and upgraded by re manufacturing it.

Mill ends which are short pieces of lumber were also to be finger-jointed through a labour-intensive machining and gluing process.(see photo at right)
Many jobs were promised due to the amount of handling required and a small crew was hired to set the mill up.
One of my co workers hired on there and often kept me updated as to their progress and high hopes for a sustainable employer in the area at last.
I came to know some of the big wheels who had a charge account at the garage and they tried to lure me away to work with them.
I was leery of working in the lumber industry as it is notoriously unstable and these big talking Americans gave me cause for concern.
After the garage failed I had nothing to lose and had been out to the mill (which had been in full operation for nearly a year by then) to talk to Donny, the foreman about a position once the garage folded.
He admired my loyalty and promised a position for me when I was available.
I was also offered a job at the Porcupine Lumber mill near Salmo by the owner, also a regular customer.
He wanted me to abandon ship immediately for a new opening he had, but I didn't feel comfortable in bailing out on Jim and turned it down.
The owner of Speedway Salvage, on learning of the garage's imminent closure also asked if I'd like to work at the huge wrecking yard  he had operated for many years just east of Salmo.
I was flattered by his offer and kept it in mind, but was trying to avoid dirty garage work if possible.

I was feeling pretty good at having a new and different type of opportunity and as soon as I was done at Marathon I went out to the mill to line up a job.
I met with one of the owners-a big fellow named Dan with a drawling accent.
At this point the 150 worker operation had been through an incredible 600 different people according to Dan as they had that much trouble finding good workers.
I found that amazing in an area where jobs were nearly non-existent.
Dan was hoping I would be interested in working on the clean-up crew which was known as the dirtiest jobs in the operation.
This offer was perfect for me who hates assembly line work and did not want to be on the "chain"

pulling boards all day.
He also gave me my choice of 6 am to 2 or 2 to 10pm, Sunday to Thursday.
I happily accepted the afternoon hours even though he warned of the hot afternoon weather to contend with.
I had the pleasure of working with my friend and former co worker and fellow RCMP auxiliary member, Mark who was the foreman of the clean-up crew having been at the mill since its inception.
I found the work physically demanding, but actually really enjoyed the relative freedom of finding areas to maintain and having my own routine which I could alter as I saw fit.
On very hot summer afternoons, I often ran the short distance to the Salmo River that passed by the edge of the property to dunk my hardhat in and pour icy water over my head.
The decking of the green chain was too hot to touch as the poor workers sweltered by it, pulling lumber.
Occasionally in the evenings I saw bears wander by as they followed the river.
One Sunday as Mark and I worked alone in the mill a cougar was rummaging through the big garbage dumpster as we watched.
Another Sunday I found a dead goat from the hillbilly farm across the highway buried in sawdust, maybe by the cougar.
Much of the time I was under the green chain deck pulling broken boards and debris out

and away from the machinery which was then shovelled onto the debris conveyor that ran through the mill leading to a huge wood chipper known as a "hog" where the wood was cut into bite-sized pieces and blown into a large hopper that dumped into a chip trailer parked below it.
In areas not accessible to the conveyor I would manoeuvre the big 966 loader nearby and shovel the debris into its bucket to take out to the massive sawdust "mountain" at the edge of the property.

I enjoyed the possible danger involved in working in close proximity to moving chains, gears and belts and the clean smell of the often steaming hot sawdust as it spewed from the planer.
Not long after I began work I was given a series of raises and offered the position Mark had held as he moved to another area of the operation.
I had to oversee 5 other guys and try to keep them on their tasks and often found them slacking off and not motivated.

None of them were permitted to operate equipment so I had to bring the 966 or forklifts needed to help them when needed.
On several occasions I was put onto forklift to help keep up with the lumber production and enjoyed the fast pace of picking up the bundles as they were completed to take them to the piling areas.
The finger-jointing  area began experimenting with 18 foot lengths of 2x4 studs which were very tricky to manoeuvre through the site and pile. Often the glue had not set and the studs would fall apart during the moving.
I was offered a position steady on the forklifts, but turned it down as I liked my freedom of movement and the good workout I received every night.

The operation had been trying to intimidate the workers against forming a union with the IWA, but later that summer we had a vote to join which passed by huge majority. A new agreement was passed that saw huge wage increases for us and we were in high spirits as the fall came with cooler weather and pleasant conditions in the mill.                                                                        

 Working Sundays was very productive as the operation was halted and only maintenance was working. I often assisted the millwrights when they were overhauling a piece of machinery. Sometimes the sawdust hopper became clogged and we had to climb high up to its location where we beat on the metal sides with sledge hammers to dislodge the jammed up sawdust.                                                               

There were many wild characters to work with, many of whom were of the old school where safety was concerned.There were also quite a few very attractive girls on staff who toiled alongside the guys on the chain or in the finger jointing section.I was often  pleasantly given a pretty smile as I emerged covered in sawdust from beneath a piece of machinery near to where one of the young ladies was working.As we  looked forward to our contract coming into effect, the management were plotting against us.                    

One afternoon in December as we went on shift Donny came out to tell us there was no work until further notice.Not even maintenance could work as we usually did during other short work stoppages in past.We weren't too concerned until a week had gone by and Mark reported the bosses had flown the coop back to the States taking several million dollars with them.                                                               

It turned out they had been skimming profits and sending it south while the Provincial government had not been paying attention as their investment money was funnelled off.                                                   

For the second time in the same year my employer had gone belly-up!                                                   

I was now back on the unemployment line with little opportunity to be found.                                      

Life in The West Kootenays

I arrived at the old Petro-Canada garage one afternoon in June 1993 to meet Mr. Dorey for an interview.
The old gentleman was in his late 70s and was gnome-like the way he stood bent to one side due to a replaced hip.
He had thick snow white hair combed back and a well tanned complexion with bright blue eyes.
Talking in a very self-important manner he explained the duties were to man the pumps from 2-10 p.m. Monday to Friday, assist the mechanic wherever possible and carry out duties related to the Greyhound Bus depot.
The buses stopped four times daily- 2 in the early morning, one around 4 p.m. and another around 9.
They were to be fuelled, washed and have their chemical toilets dumped and refilled as well as garbage collected from inside.
They also had to have their engines checked for fluid levels and any burnt out lights replaced.
The other depot duties were to ship and receive parcels and sell tickets which took quite a bit of training.
Larger depots were given computers to figure out the routing for tickets and costs while we had to look at a book, or call Calgary headquarters for assistance.
I was glad to learn the job was varied, having a few challenges and was hired to begin the following day after coming back later the same day to observe the bus servicing.
Little did I know that once again I had joined up with a group of very interesting characters that made the next 6 years far from boring.(An in depth study of this time will be featured in "Marathon Mayhem", a future story).
I enjoyed learning the routine and becoming a part of the family and gained the trust of my co workers and the many regular customers I came to know.
Mr. Dorey's son Jim worked the day shift and came in several times during the evenings to hang out or work on his vehicles and was a very interesting and well educated fellow in his early forties who was struggling with a mental disability that made it difficult for him to work a regular job as he was often overcome with fatigue due to the medications he was on.

Mr Dorey had raised 8 kids and put all of them through university on the earnings of the garage that had been a very bustling enterprise for nearly fifty years.

The shift suited me perfectly as I had time to work around at home before work, yet was home early enough to enjoy evening leisure time as well.
The garage was only an easy 15 minute walk for me too through the flat town.
We enjoyed the atmosphere of the village of about 1000 and beauty of the surrounding mountains and began to settle in.

(photo shows Hwy 6 through Salmo. Garage located just past building with green roof)I soon settled into the routine and became familiar with the many regular customers, many of whom had charge accounts for their various businesses that included logging and mining companies. The various customers had varying daily requirements as to which fuels they used, containers for chainsaw gas and oil of certain mix ratios and soon had them memorized to their appreciation.They merely had to drive up to the pumps and say "Hi" and go inside to relax while I attended to their needs. I took pride in becoming one of the trusted attendants that they requested upon arrival-"I want John to do it".The rest of the crew consisted of  mainly high school kids who worked part time after school  and weekends. Most of them didn't work often enough to memorize the many aspects of the operation, nor did they care to go the "extra mile".

The bus servicing was similar to a pit stop as we anticipated their arrival we set up the equipment by the separate diesel pumps,opened the sani-dump grating and listened for the sound of the GM engine's distinctive sound as it approached and wheeled onto the lot through the back alley. The bus was guided over the dump grate to line up its pipe that carried the toilets' contents when a handle was pulled. Many rookies flubbed this and it was not uncommon to see them dump the mess onto the concrete and have to hose it down later. In winter it made for a frozen,stinking situation. Meanwhile Mr Dorey would hold court in the office listening to news and telling stories while the drivers waited for us to service their buses.One fellow did the dumping,washed the bus and handled the fuel while the other went inside,collected garbage and poured a small bottle of concentrated liquid into the toilet which kept it relatively fresh-smelling. The buses sometimes took on 600 litres of fuel which added up extra      earnings over the day.

It was fun to carry out the servicing as fast as possible, especially when there were "tag teams" of several buses lined up at once during peak seasons.I soon knew the drivers by name and enjoyed carrying on conversations with them on their regular runs through Salmo. Salmo being the mid point between Vancouver and Calgary had become the fuelling point some 20 years previously and Mr. Dorey took great pride in keeping them happy.
Other regular customers included the members of the town's 4 member RCMP detachment as well as Highway patrol members who stopped in when passing through on patrol.In the early evenings after the traffic died down it was usual to have several hours of quiet which Mr. Dorey employed to sit and tell me many interesting stories of his many years in the area where he worked in various jobs from dairy owner to underground miner.He had owned the garage business for nearly fifty years when I hired on and had an inexhaustible number of tales to recount.I soon had many new friends through my co workers and socialzed with some of them  over the years.
Once I was on steady we began looking for a house to buy. We employed a local real estate agent and character named Jack Hipwell "Hack Gypwell" who took us around to several houses in our limited price range. Not finding anything suitable we had to expand our search area to include the village of Fruitvale located about 17 miles west, a drive of 20 minutes.                                                              
After a few more disappointing prospects we settled for an older mobile home with additions within the  village limits on a large lot. The price was right and we settled in and remained there for the next seventeen years.        
The following summer Mr. Dorey decided a female crew would be a welcome addition and in a matter of a few weeks I had six lovely teen aged girls to work with ranging from 12 to 19 years of age. Many of   them remained on staff for several years and were very efficient and dedicated workers who I had great affection for. They often confided in me and also had me work on their cars for them.I became very  protective of them and often stepped in when men flirted with them which was a frequent                   occurrence.When I later became an auxiliary RCMP member I sometimes threatened to bodily throw these guys off the lot which amused Mr. Dorey who "took guff from no man". One of the perks of having the Mounties behind me meant there was often a patrol car parked on the lot as one of the boys visited during the many quiet hours they endured.One of my co workers was also an auxiliary member and had been instrumental in recruiting me. Mr. Dorey was a bit of a renegade and disapproved of the police and called us "Stooges".Three nights each week after work we would go over to the high school where we had a key to use the weight room. usually whichever Mountie was on duty met us there to join in for a good workout. One of them was an ERT member who was in top shape and trained us hard.I was soon in pretty good shape and able  to bench press weights that surprised                                            me.                                                                                                                                                            

                                                                                                                                                                        During the years I was at the garage we went from Petro Canada to independent to Thrift Gas as Mr. D battled with the gas companies who he was sure were nothing but gangsters.Thrifty seemed the best of the bunch as it was a small operation with its own refinery located in Red Deer.                                
The president of the company made frequent visits  and even sent his rep to help with repairs to the        pumps which was very rare old-fashioned service in the industry.                                                         
The winters in Salmo are legendary for the snow and cold conditions  they regularly produce and gave
us quite a challenge every year. Once the snow began, Mr. D. would put the blade onto his 1954

Dodge Power Wagon wrecker he'd owned since  nearly new.  The truck was all     business and was completely original down to its military surplus tires. It was 

not very pleasant to drive with weak brakes and low gear ratio making speeds  
over 50 mph impossible, but plowing the lot it was well-suited to with its heavy
weight and bull low power it pushed like a dozer!                                              
The old boy had originally bought the truck as a surplus mine pickup  used at the
Canex mine near Salmo and had a wrecker body attached. It had a pto winch mounted to the front which the home made plow blade was operated with.

During winters, Mr. D. was out plowing before dawn and continued throughout the day pausing for short naps. Once I came on shift I filled in for a few passes as did Jim, but few others were trusted with the wrecker.                                        
Some of the challenges included trying to get the buses serviced without freezing the hoses. We developed a method of storing the hose in the furnace room atop the boiler and when the bus was due we rushed it out, hooked it up and ran a trickle of water through to keep it free. When the bus arrived we had a propane torch ready to thaw the sani dump pipe which was tricky as the pipes were pvc and one had to apply the right         amount of heat not to melt it. I remember many days in the dead of winter at well below -30C out in the wind relatively warm dressed in my army surplus "Extreme cold weather" parka.                                

Fuelling vehicles was not pleasant with the ice cold pump handles to deal with and the rare occasion when the pumps themselves froze up.                                      
    There were usually many quiet hours working the winter evenings. I spent the         time playing cards with whichever girl was working, or helped her with any           homework I was capable of being any use with.                                                  
The old boy loved adversity and jumped into action any time things went              pear-shaped. Yelling orders he commanded us in our duties or from his Ford        aerostar van would lay on the horn until whatever action was required was tended to.                                                                                                                               The aerostar was his version of a motor home in the hours he spent in it                   daily,sleeping or cruising Salmo. Several times each week he made the journey to the bank in Nelson, leaving at about 3 in the afternoon and usually returning within the hour. The usual time to get to Nelson was nearly half an hour, so he must have been flying as was his custom. In fact he was a well known terror around town due to the wild driving and at his advanced age, his inattention     towards other drivers.                                                                                                                             

Many times he would push snow across Highway 6 in front of the garage narrowly missing oncoming cars and trucks to the tune of loud honking of horns.                                                                             
 The garage was the real hub of the town and the regulars shared news and gossip freely and followed the old boy's exploits with great humour.                            
The business struggled along and was not profitable due to Mr. D's stubborn         refusal to modernize the shop or means of operation and began running into serious financial troubles over the last few years I worked there.                                                                                                                          
The rumour around town had always been that the old boy was very rich, as he often carried large           quantities of cash and I remember several occasions where a logger or other regular came in asking if he could cash a $2,000.00 cheque. Without blinking Mr. D. would produce enough cash from his pocket to cover it.                                                                                                                                                      
The truth was the business was so shaky that the family home was mortgaged against it and the bank had cut off any further funding.                                                                                                              

In 1999, the final year, the old boys' health was failing and he was diagnosed with colon cancer that      soon spread to his lungs. He would now sit huddled in a corner of the office wrapped in a blanket             looking like Sitting Bull until he was finally hospitalized in May of that year.                                          

I visited him on his request in the hospital in Nelson where he was still determined to beat the cancer and return to duty.                                                                                                                                     

Soon after he passed away and the pioneer was gone at 82.                                                                                                                                                

I had been offered two jobs at local sawmills in the interim, but felt a sense of loyalty to go down with the ship. Now that he was actually gone I felt free to move on as Jim tried to bail the business out and was turned down time and again. My next chapter would soon begin.                                                  

We head for the hills

And so in September of '92 we loaded up a big U-Haul truck again and attached the little Datsun 510 on a trailer to the back.
Floyd had taken the '80 Pontiac wagon we'd bought to replace the Jeep over to his place in Burnaby where he was going to load it with some stuff and meet us in Osoyoos where we planned to overnight.
The drive up was quite pleasant and we arrived at the pet-friendly motel by the lake in Osoyoos in late afternoon.
Floyd had arrived a bit earlier with Rayana and Shelagh's Mum, Dorlean.
After a restful evening we left early the following morning heading into a part of the province we'd never seen.
We took our time and arrived in Nelson fairly early in the afternoon.

The truck began acting up with a slipping clutch as we'd headed into the mountain and the final climb into uphill Nelson was a big chore for it as it slipped badly and had us concerned until we levelled off and pulled into 1905 Falls St.
We were thrilled with the view from the living room window and found the house was very well fitted out with built-in cabinets and shelves everywhere.
There was a historic cemetery a few blocks away where we enjoyed many walks throughout the year.
There was a nice little primary school very close by for Harley and he began kindergarten a few days after we moved in.
I again started the familiar ritual of visiting the Canada Employment office which kept me in good shape walking the steep hill downtown and back again daily.
Harley made friends with a little girl and we soon were befriended by her beautiful young single mother and older sister.
Colleen had two rottweilers with her when she walked from her home to pick Paige up  and we fell in love with them.
Colleen, the girls and dogs became part of our family and I was kept busy having the girls and dogs over frequently and for periods of time stayed with us when Colleen had to go out of town.
The female rotti, Justice had her puppies one afternoon and I was summoned to assist which I enjoyed fully. One pup was breech birth too and wasn't breathing.
Thanks to the endless animal shows I always watch I knew what to do and had her breathing and okay before I knew it.
When they were about 8 weeks old we kept the puppies for a few days along with Justice and the girls and had lots of fun during the winter of that year.
The job hunting was worse than in Victoria and I had very few choices an d had several disappointments due to government bureaucracy where I didn't qualify for a few training programs as I was on employment insurance and not welfare.
Early the next year Floyd notified us of his date to occupy the house to be in March, so we began looking for a place.
When Colleen learned we would have our own place  she offered Justice to us since she felt unable to care for her and had her spayed for us.
I remember picking her up following the operation and found she had not recovered from her anesthetic.
On arriving home and trying to get her out of the car we found her nearly unconscious and so groggy we left her to sleep several hours.
When she was finally with it enough to stagger in with my help she stood in the kitchen bleary-eyed and peed about a gallon onto the floor.
Having no luck after searching locally we saw an ad for a house on acreage in nearby Salmo.
One cold February day we drove out to the charming little town in its picturesque mountainous setting where we found a neat, very old looking darkened wood sided house.
The young landlords were a very friendly pair and had a huge Malamute in a fenced enclosure in back who tackled us for some play and gave us a big welcome.
They offered us the house and weren't bothered about Justice, Bandit and the cats.
The house was totally untouched and very rough, but had a cheerful feel to it.
It had belonged to a miner and his wife for many years and featured a few old outbuildings including a tiny shack where Mr. Isrock reportedly did his drinking.

This time we had a short move and used a smaller U-Haul truck along with our Pontiac and newly purchased utility trailer.
We settled in and soon the spring came when Harley and I began working on building a big vegetable garden on the long disused but fertile ground.
Harley had transferred to the kindergarten in Salmo which was down the road we lived on making it quite safe for walking.
The back of the 2 acre lot was forested and gave us a place to hike up the steep hills there.
We also discovered an old dump site where we unearthed interesting bottles and artifacts from the Isrocks' lives.
I now hoped to find local work, but Salmo seems cursed with a poor economy despite the high value of the numerous unused old mines everywhere .
There are mainly forestry-related logging type jobs and a few shaky sawmill operations to be had.
There were plans to reopen two local mills under new management and I had great hopes of snagging a position as I applied as soon as I learned of them.
I wasn't even contacted and felt quite bitter until they both failed a short time later.
Meanwhile Shelagh was talking to one of the attendants at the town's Petro Canada garage and was told they were desperate for qualified help.
Learning of this I jumped into action and rushed down to meet Mr. W.C. Dorey, a pioneer of the Salmo area and terrific character.
I was on my feet again.

We move to Victoria

In April of 1990 we gathered up Harley,the pets, loaded up the old panel truck I still had possession of, the Jeep and the rest went by moving van.
Mum had once again come to the rescue in finding us a very nice duplex on Fairfield Road who would allow our pets.

We were pleasantly surprised to find it in a very decent neighbourhood not far from my brother's house and not far from the ocean.

My Mum lived only about 20 minutes' walk away too which made visiting very convenient.

The big hurdle was to find a job and I began the daily ritual again of walking down to the Canada Employment Office and following up on any leads I could find.

I responded to a short ad posted in the Times Colonist for an apartment maintenance man and was soon contacted by Mr. Alan Wilson who invited me to meet him at his building-Viscount Manor on Rockland Avenue, only about 15 minutes walk from home.

It was a well kept older 40 suite building overlooking a historic cemetery bordering on downtown.

Al explained my duties were to arrive each morning, (not before nine to avoid disturbing the tenants) and carry out routine cleaning and yard care as well as respond to any requests for repairs to units and was given authority to carry out any work I felt confident in tackling.

At least I had something to do even if it only took a few hours per day.

I developed a liking for the job very quickly and enjoyed helping the various tenants, many of whom were seniors as was the live-in management couple who I saw daily to get my repair requests from.

Al was very pleased with my work and soon raised my pay to whopping $9.00 an hour!
I painted suites when they became vacant which gave me extra hours and Al complimented me on my skill and speed.

The only other extra work there was during the one severe winter when a big snowfall caused leaks in    the flat roof and Al called in a panic one evening asking me to shovel off the roof which I did in a few hours.

He also had me come to the large home he and his wife owned in Oak Bay to help Mrs. Wilson get her large terraced garden into shape every few months.
this was fun for me and I was treated like a family member and fed delicious lunches and cake for coffee breaks.
Mrs. Wilson had a large and  enviable collection of dahlias  and gave me tubers from some for my own garden.

I continued looking for work, but now was trying to find something that would dovetail with my other job and soon saw a listing for evening janitors which I applied for.

I was contacted to report to the offices of Emchuck Janitorial services on Jutland Avenue and upon arriving saw it to be located in the basement of an old house surrounded by commercial buildings.
Chuck Mowbray was seated behind the desk of a dishevelled office surrounded by janitorial equipment that exuded the aroma of stale mops.

Chuck reminded me of Jack Palance and was a large, well built man who looked intimidating, but I was later to learn was a very nice guy to work for.
Chuck seemed eager to put me to work and gave me the choice of graveyard cleaning of a legion building, or 3-10 p.m. doing the cleaning of one floor of the federal government forestry building on Burnside Road.

That suited me better and Chuck arranged for me to report that same afternoon to begin at the short-staffed facility.

I arrived at the large complex and was impressed with the design of the new section(right side of photo) that featured an atrium 4 stories high with naturally lit skylights of glass.

There were janitors to work each floor due to the size of the building, but I soon found the six hour shifts more than enough time to have easily cleaned two floors per man if they were so motivated.

We were required to stay until 10 as we had to sign in and out at a guard desk.

I had several new characters to work with including Tim "Slurpy" Dalman, so named by his habit of noisily drinking his coffee.

I was shown the duties by a thin cowboy-like fellow also named Tim who looked and sounded like Sam Elliott.

Tim was an easy going fellow who had worked in the custodial field for many years and taught me many efficient and time saving methods of work.

We had a very relaxed pace of work and Tim would often poke his head around a corner as he looked for me on my floor to invite me up to the roof while he had a smoke.

The caterers of the coffee shop on the main floor kindly saved the donuts and coffee leftover for us to enjoy at our 6 p.m. first break. These we often took by elevator to the roof on pleasant evenings which seemed frequent on remembering.

I soon had my duties well learned, but due to the very interesting labs and libraries I cleaned I was not often bored by the tedium and with the lenient time allowance I found extra cleaning to do to pass the night.

Again my employer was pleased with my performance and after a few months I was offered a transfer to single-handed maintenance of the Dominion Astrophysical Observatory complex in West Saanich.

Resembling a small town, the group of buildings were nestled in a forested area high up a winding road to the top of a small mountain where the telescope (the world's largest in 1918) overlooked the area.


I had equipment in several locations so I didn't have to haul it around the complex.
Most of the work was done by the staff earlier in the day and late at night when the viewings took place.

There was one large building that was seldom used where large mirrors were polished for the big observatory in Hawaii. It featured heated floors which were left on year round. On the few cold days I experienced it was pleasant to nip into the building to warm up.

Another bonus was that once my work was done I was allowed by Chuck to go home. as long as there were no complaints, he said.

I could usually have everything done within 4 hours and was complemented by the staff how they found everything cleaner than they had ever seen it.
I was able to implement a composting operation by placing covered buckets in the lunchroom with signs asking for organic wastes to be put in them which I hauled home for my garden's compost pile.

Even though I had the two jobs and Shelagh was working full time at a Buy & Sell Newspaper office we were still losing ground due to the high rents.

This time Shelagh's brother, Floyd came to the rescue in 1992.

We had been trying to find a way to relocate up to some small interior area where costs were lower and there was work available.

Floyd and his wife RayAna had fallen in love with Nelson on a holiday visit and were planning a similar move, however after buying a house there they were unable to make the move for over 6 months and offered us the opportunity to rent the house and get established before they came up the next year.
It seemed the right thing for us and we gave notice to our employers and settled on September to make the transition.

Fortunately Chuck was in a position of having to lay off someone due to a lost contract and gave me the layoff which enabled me to collect employment insurance while searching for a new job.

Everything was in order for our next adventure.

Island Living

We took the ferry over one very nice early fall morning and arrived at the Long Harbour dock where Lee was waiting beside his shiny new BCAA tow truck to take us to Ganges where he bought us a very nice lunch while getting to know us.

After lunch Shelagh took young Harley to a nearby playground while Lee took me over to the Shell Garage for a tour and further interview.

The garage  was well equipped with three bays, one having a pit and two tow trucks and a small Datsun pickup BCAA service vehicle.

The operation was a major one on the island as it had the garage and Shell gas station, BCAA road service, a Shell bulk fuel plant with tanker truck, Loomis Courier service and had recently sold a two-cab taxi business.

Lee and his wife Mary Ann ran the whole operation, but both were very warm and caring individuals and made me feel at ease from the first meeting.

Lee explained my duties would be to assist the journeyman mechanic, handle road service and towing jobs as well as drive the fuel truck which included fueling the ferries after their runs ended in the evenings.

It sounded perfect to me and I told him as much and was offered the job which had come up as a result of one of the employees' plan to leave in the near future for some reason.
Lee said I could start a.s.a.p. and would enquire around to find us a house to rent and would let us know as soon as he located something suitable.

Phil was disappointed to learn I was leaving, but was envious I was getting away from the rat race to the rare opportunity of living in a paradise.

A few days after our trip to the island Lee phoned having found a nice place about 15 minutes drive from Ganges in a house with a fantastic ocean view from its rear deck.
The rent was reasonable at $500.00 and we put the move into motion and were on site in less than a month.

By late October I was working in the garage and enjoying the variety of routine services, tire repairs, road service calls and fuel deliveries that included the other Shell station in Fulford Harbour at the Southern tip of the island which is 25 miles in length by 8 across at the widest point.

The road service jobs were very satisfying as people were so glad and relieved when I pulled up and usually had their vehicles running in a few minutes.

If it was a serious breakdown and couldn't be fixed within 15 minutes, we were to tow them in for repairs.

The shop was constantly bustling as they had a very good reputation for honesty, maybe in part to Lee being a retired Mountie with great integrity.

The McColl's were so good to work for.
Mary Ann bought us each a bowl of delicious soup from the nearby deli every day and they had us to their home for big dinners on several occasions.

I really appreciated the attitude of honestly diagnosing and recommending repairs and took great pride in doing a complete job every time a vehicle came in.

We had a $19.99 oil change special that was my responsibility and I had cars lined up down the street waiting  as I methodically went through the procedure which included safety checks to find items requiring repairs that brought in money for the shop while ensuring the cars were safe upon the jobs' finish.

As I went over them and found a problem I would confer with Bruce, the journeyman who usually agreed with my findings.

Lee was very pleased with my work and told me so on many occasions giving me raises several times.

The business was doing so well he hired another mechanic who was a factory trained Toyota technician from Australia.

Phil was the usual easy going Aussie with a great sense of humour who really livened up the shop as Bruce was usually quite dour and often grouchy.

The island attracted many celebrities such as Rockford Files' Stuart(Angel) Margolin,artists such as Robert Bateman and Canadian actor Scott Hylands all of who's vehicles I serviced on occasion, but only met Scott Hylands when he brought his pickup in himself.

Our house was quite comfy and had the million dollar view I described and was located up a steep hill and onto a side road named funnily "Main Street".

Often as I pulled onto the Walkers Hook Road in the morning I would find two young native kids hitch hiking and picked them up.

Tanya and Tyson lived nearby to us and we got into the routine of me driving them to school and often home again if they were seen loitering by my Jeep at 5 p.m.

They were very nice kids, Tanya was 12 and Tyson about 14.

I learned Tanya was near the top of her class and was very good company making very intelligent conversation as well as being very sweet natured and extremely pretty with her long black hair.
Tyson was quiet and ended up getting into a lot of trouble, but never gave me any grief in the slightest.

Tanya often visited our house and was often around on weekends. we thought nothing of it until Shelagh met her Mum and found out she was AWOL much of the time and they were not allowed to hitch hike.

Once her Mum learned we were okay she allowed Tanya to continue visiting where we fed her and enjoyed her company and play with Harley who was nearly 3 then.

In the early spring we were thinking about buying a home as Dave, our landlord gave us notice he needed the house back for his daughter to occupy.

Prices were high for what was on offer and we began searching when I received news that the fellow I had been hired to replace had changed his mind and Lee was overstaffed and gave me notice.

Once again our plans were quickly changed for us and we  decided to look forward to moving to Victoria where we could be near to my family and live in another paradise... but could we afford it?

Pulling wrenches again

Phil's Southwest Automotive Specialties shop was located in South Richmond in an industrial park a few blocks from Steveston where I had lived with Mum in the mid-seventies.

I was about ten minutes' drive from our rental house which was very convenient.
Mum had recently moved from the little house on Yoshida Court to a new townhouse in Victoria where she had planned to retire.

The shop was full of various project cars, engines and equipment that made being thin an advantage as one squeezed their way around the work areas.

Phil put me to work on a variety of tasks while he attended to engine building, roll cage fabrication and rear axle narrowing among other things.

There was body work to be done, cutting out rusted areas, pulling engines and transmissions from vehicles being totally rebuilt and some routine engine and clutch jobs that came in infrequently.

Being the best of friends made our work days very pleasant as well as meeting the array of characters who frequented the shop either to visit their cars under reconstruction, or just to shoot the breeze.

The pace of work was usually very relaxed which soon became a problem for me who was paid for work done on a contract basis.

We had big dreams to grow the operation and purchase a facility for the headquarters and the first move was to find a shop truck to use as a rolling billboard and example of the work we could do.

Phil had previously spotted a rough old '64 Dodge panel truck around Richmond used by a painting contractor.

One day we approached the owner who agreed to sell it to me for $1300.00 which was pretty high, but it was perfect for our plans and did run like a charm with its slant-six engine and three speed tranny.

We even took a Friday off for a parts finding mission into Washington State cruising many auto wrecking yards and stopping in to visit our friend and hero, Dave Wren, a drag racing pioneer and legend who Phil had met years earlier and extended an invitation to drop in to see him whenever we were in his neighbourhood.

Dave's farm in Lindon was like a museum where he kept around fifty mainly Chrysler cars and trucks.
Most were either restored or good original condition.

Dave had his own plane and airstrip on the farm making it easy for him to attend events in distant locations.

Back at the shop we continued our daily toils with many slow-to-pay customers, but lots of work to keep us busy.

Phil took on another fellow in hopes that the additional help would speed up our completion of big jobs and the payouts would flow in better, but try as we might we were struggling financially to the point where after being there a year I had to start looking for steady work somewhere.

Phil often raved about the idyllic beauty of Salt spring Island, one of the Gulf Islands off the coast of B.C. which boasted a terrific climate and laid-back lifestyle where many big celebrities made their homes.

I got the big idea to place a work wanted ad in the island's local newspaper and soon after received a call from one of the owners of McColl's Shell Service, a multi-faceted operation who reported it difficult to find experienced and motivated workers among the local workforce.

We made plans to journey to Ganges, the town on the island for an interview with  Lee and Mary Ann McColl.

We finish out the season and return to civilization

While our plan to leave was in the works I continued on with the many tasks waiting to be done.
In mid-June we began readying the equipment for haying.

I attached new cutters to the silage chopper (as shown in the photo on right) that were serrated triangular shaped "teeth" that acted like a hedge clipper does with a sawing motion cutting the grasses which are then pulled by rollers into the machine where a set of rotating knives (which I also replaced with sharpened ones)chop them into pieces that look just like lawn clippings.

These are then blown out of the chute into the silage truck, or the "high dump." (shown on left)

The high dump would raise up and tip into the dump truck,or directly into the big silage pits situated around the ranch in convenient locations.
The choice could be made if the weather wasn't good for drying hay to use the chopper and pack the silage for winter feed.

This involved driving a tractor over the contents of the pit gradually packing it tight enough to exclude air and decomposition (very boring job).

The silage fermented into a sweet smelling product that gave the cattle very nice breath!

Again I thoroughly enjoyed the process of cutting the hay using the "haybine" which used cutters similar to the silage chopper, but then fed the grass through rollers that crimped or "conditioned" the  grass to retain the nourishment in the product as it dried.

With the new cutters I made great progress each day and the weather was very cooperative.

Once the hay had been raked with the attachment, Al came along with the "haystacker"(shown below) that picked up the dried product and compressed it into big stacks of a ton each.

Once we had all of the hay cut we had the job of moving the 80+ stacks we had produced to a fenced in "stack yard" where deer,moose and cattle wouldn't get at them.

These were a bit tricky to get underneath using the "stack mover" which employed a conveyor-type system of rotating chains that pulled the stack onto the platform as we slowly backed under it.
The big stacks often threatened to disintegrate when tipped at a steep angle before plopping into position.
It was then a pleasant drive several miles to the yard where we then had to put huge tarps over them for weather protection.

Some of the real positive attributes of the ranch were the breath taking vistas everywhere one looked.

The view from our windows revealed big fields that at night sometimes shared their beauty with the Northern Lights.
A few times I saw silhouetted a big owl perched on the wire fence hooting occasionally.

Other wildlife included rare sightings I had of wolves and bear. Al reported seeing a wolverine during the winter which is something I have yet to experience.
The very fresh air was something I was always aware of as I inhaled its sweetness frequently throughout the day.

In early evening it was at its most fragrant as the dew began to form.
In early September we had the big 80 acre field at 982 done and ready for planting.
The mornings were frosty and I remember feeling quite cold riding the atc up to Al's in the early part of the day.

My Mum's contact with Phil came to fruition just in time as he decided he needed to expand his business and with my offer of assistance we made plans for the middle of October when we would return to Richmond where Mum was searching for a suitable rental home for us.

On our weekly trips to P.G. we usually stopped at the dump outside the city where a character we called the "dump master" lived in a shack and oversaw its operation.
He had taken a liking to Alex who was sometimes with us on our run to town with Bandit too to keep them from causing any mischief around the homestead where Alex liked to chase the cattle.

As we knew finding a rental that would allow two dogs and three cats we offered Alex to the dump master and he was delighted to give him a home.

Although there had been many pleasant points to ranch life, the hard living conditions were too much for us to tolerate and we left with few regrets.

The big change had been very therapeutic for me and my positive outlook had returned.
One morning at Al's table he showed me a newspaper article telling of the total demise of Route Canada and the indictment of those crooks who were charged with fraud by the federal government and sentenced to two years in lockup.

That made me feel a bit of vindication, although to this day when I think of the proceedings I can't help but have a twinge of bitterness.

We rented another big U-Haul truck and attached the Jeep to a tow bar and left very early one morning
for the long trip to Richmond where we arrived about ten that same evening without incident.

Mum had found us a decent bungalow on Williams Road where there was quite heavy traffic and I awoke to exhaust smells coming in the window which was hard to take after the pristine ranch air.
I got hold of Phil and planned to join him the following day to begin yet another segment of my unpredictable life.