Signing off....

I should have done this earlier, but it's been a busy time since returning to Canada on August 20th. I think it's probably best if I don't go into details about my two week vacation with Ashton so that I still have a couple stories to tell if anyone out there wants to chat about the summer.

Some bullet points to get us started when we meet:
- Sydney has a great downtown area
- Scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef is about as cool as it gets
- Australia is expensive (probably more expensive than our trip to Italy)
- Steve Irwin's (think Crocodile Hunter) Zoo is awesome
- Virgin Blue is the best domestic airline in Australia
- 'Inception' in IMAX was awesome
- Byron Bay really is as picturesque as everyone says it is
- getting to hang out with old Aussie friends from uni was a lot of fun
- Jet lag was bad bug manageable

For anyone who catches this final post, I hope you enjoyed the blog. If I ever get the chance to do some international work in the future I might do something similar. Even if no one reads it, it's still a nice way for me to record memories for the future. I only chose to do it as a blog because I thought the rest of you might get some entertainment out of the deal.

I'll leave you with a few Scuba photos. Goodnight everybody.

"Hanging out around 15 m down."

"A Green Turtle hanging out in the sand at the bottom."

"We sure did get lost down there..."

And one photo of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge for the road...

 Ok, maybe one more...

Uluru (Ayers Rock) and Kata Kjuta (The Olgas)

My time in Alice Springs was not without excitement. I was given a full tour of our operations in and outside the town (small city really). It was an eye opener to glimpse the unique working environment in Alice. You see there’s a small, but very vocal, environmental community that is dead set against anything that has to do with nuclear power. They think that by mining uranium from the land nearby, Alice will become a post-apocalyptic wasteland ruled by an anti-semitic Mel Gibson in full leather. Solar arrays are present outside the city but they provide very little of the total power used. Of course, they have no qualms about getting their energy from coal. This being the environment equivalent of shaking hands with Nelson Mandela while simultaneously clubbing a seal. But I digress….

After my company tour I disembarked on my own private little road trip. Little might not be the proper terminology. Sizeable….large, or even gargantuan might better encapsulate the sort of distance that was covered in one day. My journey started in Alice springs and would take me across 500km of desert before arriving at the Olgas, giant sandstone domes that jut out from the surrounding flatness. Within these domes is a hiking path that allows you to experience their size and grandeur up close. I couldn’t resist. 7.64km and 2 hours later I had found my way through the “Valley of the Winds” and taken over 100 photos. The views were spectacular and the serenity of the location was unmistakable. I think I managed to go during an off day because the whole time I was in the park I didn’t feel like I was being rushed or crammed in. I also rarely heard an Aussie accent as the park is a larger draw for the international crowd.

"The Olgas rise in the distance. This was about 5 km away when the photo was taken."

"A view from between a couple of the domes. They were huge once you were up beside them and offered some very picturesque lookout points."

"By this point I was most of the way through the Valley of the Winds hike and was still just trying to snap as many photos as I could. It seemed like such a unique landscape that my finger wouldn't leave the shutter button for long."

Next stop was the more famous Ayers Rock, or as it is now known, Uluru. This behemoth is much like the domes of the Olgas except it’s joined into one large hunk of sandstone. One can’t truly appreciate its size until attempting to climb it, which I did. I had to, it compelled me to scale its smooth, weathered face. Unfortunately for my conscience there’s a sign at the base of the climb saying that it should be reserved for the local aboriginals as a rite of passage. I had seen the aboriginals in Alice Springs. Whatever tradition they once held to is gone, replaced by poverty and malice. After personally justifying the climb, I began my ascent. About 15 minutes later I was asking for a third lung and hoping my heart didn’t explode. Ok maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I did try to climb it way too quickly and found myself needing a few breaks along the way to suck in enough oxygen to keep my muscles from burning like too much tiger balm combined with icy hot. Not even Shaq could have withstood that kind of burn.

"The generic photo of Uluru taken from one of the main view points."

"The Olgas from the top of Uluru. You can also notice just how flat it is around these huge chunks of rock."

 "Ridge filled roof of Uluru."

Once I finally made it to the top and surveyed my surroundings it was an impressive view. There’s a reason that hunk of rock sticks out so well, it’s the only thing there. Flat desert was all I could see in every direction. The Olgas loomed in the distance as shadows against the horizon. After giving myself a few minutes to take in the sites and catch my breath, it was time to start the descent. I’m happy to report that down was much easier than up. It did involve tiny baby steps and leaning really far back….but was relatively painless.

"Sunset photo of Uluru. While I was watching the sunset I chatted it up with a Dutch family. Why is that important? I ran into them again in Cairns a few days later. It's a small world."

"I took this during the drive back to Alice Springs. I looked out my window at the sky and realized that it was lit up like a Christmas tree. When you are truly in the middle of nowhere with no ambient light it's amazing how bright the stars are. This image gets a lot fuzzier when you look at the blown up version. That belt of stars that cuts diagonally across the image also cut all the way across the sky. I had to just stop and star gaze for awhile because it was just too amazing to pass up."

Goodbye to King River Camp

The sun rose for the last time on my tent at King River Camp this morning. Temperatures have finally been dropping over night and most found themselves begging for the sun to rise quicker. I did not count myself among them, it was +18C at 6am.

It's been a great two months and while I'll likely never see this place again, it's provided enough memories to last. This camp more than any other place has felt more like a home since coming across the pond. The crew is filled with good blokes who work hard during the day and chillax at night. They've educated me into the idiosyncrasies of Australian lore. They also taught me how to properly kick a footy (I will be bringing back a proper ball so I can spread the game to Canadians) and all the wonders that come from a sport that looks as chaotic as lineups in Walmart at Christmas time. Someday I'll be back and I'll check out a live game at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground).

What strikes home the most for me is the fact that I will never see the outback like this again (unless I work for Cameco Australia again, chances are pretty slim for another opportunity). Like any explorer at heart, I always like it when I feel like I get to tread on ground that barely anyone ever gets to see. For instance, seeing Tor Rock. A handful of people in Darwin can probably claim to have seen it and they're the closest city by far. Every time we go mapping there's always one moment where you think to yourself, "I bet no one has ever seen this place before". Or how about the chopper rides over Kakadu National Park? People pay hundreds of dollars for those same rides and their chopper doesn't even set down on the landscape.

I've also learned a lot about how things are done in the Australian geological world. Considering that was my main purpose for coming here it's a good thing it worked out. Industry here is a totally different animal from Canada and certainly takes some getting used to.

My Cameco Australia tour of duty finishes in Alice Springs. Those will be touring days though so really my vacation starts this afternoon when I hop on the bus at Cahill's Crossing (still hoping to see some salties there today).

Less than fives days from now Ashton will take her first steps on Aussie soil (or pavement or as they say 'bitumen', whichever you prefer). A fact not lost on me. It's going to be a great way to round out my time here and it should go a long way to keeping me out of the doghouse for abandoning her for most of the summer month. I kid....but seriously, it should help. I haven't seen her since May 30th. It'll be August 8th when she lands here.

Some randoms for a King River sendoff.....

 "We ran into a group of 5 wild pigs when we were out in the rhino yesterday. Luckily that rhino is intimidating enough to scare them off without any worries. You wouldn't want to run into a group of them like that on foot. Here's a photo of a lower jaw that was found by camp."

 "The local didgeridoo band. Rhythm (mine), lead (Patty Lee) and bass (Leigh Davies) didg."

"Brumbies eating in the bush off the main track. The white one on the right wouldn't turn to face the shot. I've seen it right by the road at night and it's about 5ft at the shoulder. Not massive, just lean and strong."

Rockin the Didg

A guitar might be an axe, but a didgeridoo is an axe handle....or a beating stick.....ok so maybe it's a log that makes cool noises. One this is for certain, I suck at it, but at least I have one now.

One of our fieldies, Jules Inaarmidir Gulamuwu, is an aboriginal from Arnhem Land. He lives in Oenpelli and when he was a young lad he was raised in the old ways by his grandfather. He was taught how to paint, how to make a didg, how to play the didg and most of all, how to survive in the bush. During some down time he's shown me a bunch of cool stuff. He showed me how to find water and several plants that I could eat if I had to. There's a sugar grass where you can chew on the root and it will energize you and quench your thirst. He also found some bush potatoes. Only the size of a pea, but if you're hungry enough you'd need 'em.

"The bush potato is sitting at the bottom of the hole I dug. When it's buried you can tell it's there by its stem (the thing that looks like a death mace and is just as pokey) to the left."

I asked him what sort of trees were around us and he started rattling off aboriginal names for them. Once I told him I couldn't pick up any of what he was laying down he told me some english names. A particularly hard one is the Iron Tree. They get used for spears and apparently also for defence, "If you're being chased by a buffalo, hide behind an iron tree, it will not break. You see that tree? (points to one beside it) That one will break very easy and then you in big trouble." - Jules

Toward the end of our little bush discussion I mentioned that I really wanted to pick up a didgeridoo before I head home. To which he simply said, "I'll make you one brother." The people of Arnhem Land were the first to use didgeridoos and they spread the knowledge to other tribes throughout Australia. So while they are found in souvenir shops everywhere in this country, they only truly belong to his people. I hope to sweet mother Mary of Christ that I can get it safely back to Canada. I consider it an honour to be given a traditional didg from the birthplace of their use. Of course, like everything in life it comes at a price. A 30 pack of Carlton Mid (tough to come by out here and useful for bargaining back in Oenpelli) and the deal was struck.

"Within 48hrs we'd cut down a proper sized branch and he'd shaved and sanded it. This is the before photo. I have some more photos of the tree that it came from."

Voila, I have my very own genuine didg (pronounced 'dij'). Evidently this one's name is Mago (Mah-go) and if I call it that I will have no bad dreams and the ancestors will respect my use of it. It took me a while to figure out how to make the proper sounds. I still don't really have the sort of range that an aboriginal can hit...and never will. Another cool thing about it is he made it the size that's normally played by his people. So when they'd have gatherings, funerals or dance, my size of didg is the one that's used. And now for the main event....

Heat Records and Rhinos

Consider it a result of my enigmatic luck, but Darwin (and Arnhem Land as well) is about to have its' hottest July...ever. People told me I'd have trouble adjusting to the heat when I came over here. It's been hard but I've done ok so far. July has been doing its best to knock me right back to the frozen north though. The daily highs hover around 33C with 50% humidity. But that's not what is going to set new records. It's the daily lows that are going to shatter the record books. We've been averaging 22C as an overnight low.... Think about that for a second. Sask has been lucky to see 22 as a high this summer. Last night it didn't get any lower than 24C. It's hard to comprehend unless you're actually here, but suffice to say that most days it feels hotter than Hades eating a dried chili pepper with a side of szechuan in a sauna fueled by the fires of hell. Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you get the idea.

"My ride....sort of."

Now for those of you unlucky enough to have never ridden a Rhino. I have to tell you, it's pretty fantastic. They can get you into all sorts of places and out here in the bush they can help you cover a lot of ground. Unless you get stuck, but that's a story for another day.

Gateway Festival/Reunion

This weekend marks the 6th Annual Gateway Festival aka 'The greatest shindig this side of the Arctic Circle". It's a huge feat really to have a large event like this in the tiny town of Bengough (my home town). While it's not nearly as large as Craven, it's also no where near any large cities.....or large buildings for that matter. Good times are had by all and the guest list is incredibly varied. Corb Lund? Had 'em. Emerson Drive? Had 'em. Fred Penner? Hells yeah we had him! The weather has really come through for the organizers and it should be another wicked weekend in 'the goff'.

What else is going on this weekend? Well my high school class is holding it's 10 year reunion at the festival for obvious synergenic (not a word, but it works) reasons. Our class was huge by Bengough standards, 24 students. In kindergarten we had 30 kids! We lost several to moves, a couple to failed grades (Grade 2 was the weeding out year, sound like 2nd year of uni to anyone?) and gained some insta-students from new families. 10 years....wow. You know you're old when? I don't feel old, I don't think I look old (though I probably do) and I don't want to be old. Thusly, I am not old. My logic is sound. Would have liked to see everyone again but the outback's call was too strong.

I look forward to creeping on Facebook for many drunken photos from this weekend back home.

Pitch Black

No, not the movie starring a a certain Diesel (that word just keeps popping up around here) with a gravelly voice. I'm talking about the Pitch Black war games that are held every second year at Darwin. Think of it as Top Gun, but down under.... and with less sweaty beach volleyball.....so much less....
***Editor's note: even with the homo-eroticism running rampant throughout Top Gun, I still love that movie***
***Editor's note to Hollywood: please make a new and better fighter pilot movie. No, 'Stealth' doesn't count. You weren't even trying when you made that one.***

I kind of wish I was in the city right about now to take some of it in.

"What do you mean we don't get to go watch!?!"

The homepage from a government website described it as follows:

"Exercise Pitch Black 10 (PB10) is a three week multi-national air combat exercise, to be conducted in Northern Australia over the period 16 Jul – 6 Aug 10.
PB10 will be the largest RAAF Field Training Exercise for 2010 and will involve a combination of day and night flying from RAAF bases at Darwin (DAR) and Tindal (TDL).
The exercise will involve participants from the Australian Army and elements of the Singapore, New Zealand and Thailand air forces that will participate in the tasking, planning and execution of Offensive Counter Air (OCA) and Offensive Air Support (OAS) operations in a coalition environment."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exercise_Pitch_Black
http://www.ntnews.com.au/article/2010/07/17/164701_ntnews.html
http://www.defence.gov.au/opex/exercises/pitchblack10/gallery/20100716a/index.htm
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/06/06/2267319.htm

Basically it involves 10 countries, over 60 jets/planes, 1500 people and a s&%$load of bad wingman jokes. Of course all of the action takes place away from the civilian population. BUT, and it is a big but, there are several good lookout points within and nearby Darwin to observe. One of the fieldies just came in and said there's a great spot at one of the pub's where the jets actually end up flying right over top of you. Noisy? Absolutely. Awesome? Definitely. Apparently the American pilots are known for their hotdoggery. You can always spot a US jet taking off by its use of afterburner. The other countries are either too humble for the display of raw power..... or they just plain can't afford the extra fuel. Either way, I'd still like to see it. The views at night time are particularly enchanting. While the paint schemes keep the jets relatively out of sight during the daytime, at night the flames pumping out of the turbines can be tracked for miles away and you can watch the fighters do their dance above the desert.

"A credible source links this photo to Tom taking in the sights at the Pitch Black event near Darwin, Australia. Goose was not present at the time of this photo. His whereabouts are unknown, but he was believed to be waiting for Tom at the local beach volleyball court....or possibly the shower."

The Craven Award

It's been awhile since we sat down to talk to each other but I've been trying to build up some stuff worth telling you in the meantime.

For starters, I want to give a big shout out to my other brother Darryl. He recently won Slugfest (think home run derby, but for slo-pitch) in Saskatoon beating out a huge field of over 32 other dudes. The win was made all the sweeter when the final guy to beat was a disreputable bloke (aka douchebag).

What's new with me? Where to start? Lately I've been helping out with the logging and sampling on an RC (reverse circulation) rig. These rigs usually get used for oil and gas jobs but every now and then they get used for other exploration. They only provide you with little rock chips to look at so it's all really more of an art than a science when you're trying to describe things.

I've been able to take a break each day (when work is caught up and the drill is behind) to do some scrambling. There's some mini-escarpment by where we are and I've been conquering their barely-above-sea-level peaks. At least it gets me up above the flat and offers great views. I probably only get up to 30 m high and you can see for miles. The region we're in is classified as tropical savanna because of the extreme ends of the wet and dry scale. So while there are thousands of trees around, they are spread out to maximize growth and water usage. Being so spread out also means that you rarely find shade, but at least it's not a true desert where there's only scrub brush and flat sandy land.

I can't let this update go without telling you all about a recent trophy that was constructed in my honour. A couple weeks ago when I returned from Vietnam, a wizened and grizzled travel vet, the boys at King River had something waiting for me. After hearing about the 'diesel incident' (for which I am now famous...or infamous....either one works really) they took it upon themselves to construct a trophy dedicated to acts of numb-skullery.

 It is called the "Knob of the Week" and it was made out of an old door knob that didn't work anymore. It took one of the fieldies over half an hour to carve the letters onto the plate with a Dremel tool. It was a long process of blood, sweat and tears involved in its creation. However, I'm sure just about everyone here would say it was worth it. Seeing as how I was the inaugural winner of said trophy, it has also gone by the moniker, 'the Craven Award'. You don't win an Oscar here, but you can win a Craven.

"As you can see there's been a few winners since my inauspicious day. Misty was the latest winner when she locked herself in one of the vehicles."

p.s. Can't believe how the Riders have started the season. 3 quality wins against quality opponents. I predict we go 1-3 over the next 4 games.

Business as Usual

Fortunately or unfortunately my job has turned into one more closely resembling the one I normally occupy back in Canada. This has in turn made for fewer adventures and more routine days. Sure Misty had a huge Huntsman spider in her sleeping bag. Sure one of the fieldies found a snake under his tent....pffft. Didn't happen to me so what's the big deal?

In all seriousness, things have begun to settle down for me here and it's time to hit a stride....or pace.....or some sort of motion driven activity that leads to continual completion of tasks. Yeah that's it.

In the morning I drive to the rigs. Then I scan the core to see if it's 'hot' (ie radioactive). Then I drive the core back to camp. I load it onto racks. Then I log the core (or more accurately, train others to log it, as I am doing now). Rinse and repeat.

I wouldn't want you to go home totally empty handed though. As a parting nod to the sights of the last camp I was at, here are some photos for your enjoyment.

"Not long before I left Jabiru and Kakadu National Park we did some scouting with the chopper. You remember that arch? Well, I got a closer look.....the chopper couldn't safely get any closer but this view did nicely."

"A shot from my last hike in the bush there. You see that tree immediately to my left? There's a green tree ant nest in the branches. Seconds after this photo I will walk into it. I will then swear....a lot."

"Just climbin' some rocks, takin' some pics..."

"I know I'm ruining the view, but in the background is the East Alligator River Valley. We were about halfway up the valley wall at this point."

"Ranger Uranium Mine. The town of Jabiru wouldn't exist if not for this mine. Whether that's good or bad is up to people much better than myself. The mine is situated out in the middle of a flood plain and has to contend with the wet season every year."

"Cockatoos flying around in the courtyard at the resort I was staying at. Kind of odd to see them instead of pigeons or gulls."

"We found a pretty cool creek bed. This tree jutted out right across most of it. Probably the unique part of this area was the shade.... the blissful shade."

Nam - Cu Chi Tunnels

My second day tour was out to the Cu Chi Tunnels. They were used by the Vietnamese against the French back in the 50s and then again by the Viet Cong against the Americans and South Vietnamese in the 60s and 70s. When they were at their most developed they consisted of a network of 3 levels of over 240 km worth of intertwining and booby trapped tunnels. It gave the North (communist side) a stronghold in the south that was never broken. The Americans eventually became so frustrated with trying to fight on the Viet Cong's terms that they blanketed (aka 'carpet bombed') the entire area with Agent Orange (a defoliant that killed the vegetation) and then dropped 30 tons worth of bombs. 30 tons is a lot. Craters still litter the ground in the area and aren't fully overgrown yet. Agent Orange was no slouch either. Over 11 million gallons of it were used in the war and it's a nasty substance. It's worst ingredient is TCDD which is short for 'Kills stuff Dead'. Seriously, it's known to be one of the most dangerous substances ever created by man and 1 tablespoon of pure TCDD could kill millions of people.

Fast forward to today. The jungle has grown back and the tunnels are now a tourist attraction.

"To start the tour we were shown a war propaganda video. Only thing is it was from the Viet Cong's side. It showed many war heroes (both men and women) who were awarded the medal for 'Killer of American Invader'. It was different to say the least to see that little film. I imagine it somewhat akin to seeing Nazi propaganda....except the Vietnamese may actually have had a point."

"We were shown all kinds of traps that were used against the invading forces. All of them were poky and all of them would not feel good. This one in particular seemed pretty nasty. It was called a door trap. When a soldier kicked a door open or opened it all the way the trap would swing down. A natural defense mechanism for a soldier is to hold his gun out to stop something from hitting him in the face or chest. That would stop the top half of the trap. The lower half would then swing on its hinge and hit, well, you know....down there. As our tour guide so eloquently put it, 'No more man.'"

 "A B-52 bomb crater. Remember that they get monsoon rains in Vietnam and that this crater has had a lot of sediment wash down into it....and it's still huge (that crater is about 6m across)!"

"This was a legit tunnel entrance. You put that lid on there and cover it up a bit and it would be damn hard to find. I barely fit inside the opening and I think my shoulders would have made it through with some effort. Big American soldiers would have been like a square peg in the round hole, it just wouldn't have worked."

"I crawled through two tunnels. The first was a '5-Star' tunnel that was usually over a metre high and went for 100 m. This photo was taken in the '4-Star' tunnel. It was mostly less than a metre high and ran for about 50 m long. There wasn't much light in the larger tunnel and basically none in the second one. If ever there was a test for claustrophobia, this is it. Once you start getting down to the '2-Star' tunnels they're so small that you have to lie down and shuffle through them. I think that's where I would have hit my limit. Now try to imagine people living down here during the war. Kitchens, gathering rooms, hospitals, it was all down there and the only way to get from place to place was by the tunnels. People were only ever allowed to come out at night and cooking had to be done at 3 am when the smoke would be mixed in with the morning mists."

"I may or may not have fired an AK-47 at the end of the tour. And it may or may not have been cool."

Fun fact for the day: Australians call redheads 'Rangers', pronounced rang-urs, because the hair colour reminds them of orangutans. They've clearly evolved beyond the term 'ginger'.

Nam - Markets and Mekong

This was my introduction to Ho Chi Minh City. I land. I stand in the customs line for 25min. I get to the front. I realize I've forgotten that I need my landing Visa first. I leave the customs line feeling less competent. An hour later I have my landing Visa and then it's back into the Customs line. I exit the airport. A gentleman standing near a lineup of taxis tells me he has a one ready for me. I am happy because I'm looking forward to crashing in my hotel room as it's almost midnight. He starts walking toward the taxis, then makes a quick about-face and starts off toward the parking lot. I am perplexed. He proceeds to take me to his Toyota Camry. There are no signs on this car. There is no meter inside. In the kindest way possible I tell him there's no way I'm getting in that car. He tries showing me his 'credentials'. They consisted of a fake ID card that'd been cheaply laminated. It may even have been a thin wax. I walk away and find a real taxi.

This was a suitable introduction. Not because I was in any real danger, because I might not have been, but because the country is poor and everyone is looking to make their money any way they can. Unless you're ordering food or purchasing something that has a hard price tag on it (even then you can usually negotiate) they will try to swindle you out of as much money as possible. Thankfully 1 Canadian Dollar = 18200 Dong, so even though you might get 'taken', you probably only lost out on the best price by 40-70 cents.

Ben Thanh Market covers a square km. If you want to picture what it's like you only have to think of a flea market.... but one that fills a square km. With shelves and walls and hangers filled with a variety of things. You can buy everything from dragonfruit to a fake watch to hand painted crafts to jewellery to coffee there. And if you don't want to buy anything? Get out. Because you will be bartered, pawed, pulled, coerced and cajoled until you do want to buy something. Sometimes you'll see something you want down a little market alley way. Then you realize that the alley is lined with people who want to sell you their stuff even though you have no intention of even looking at their stuff. If you have the intestinal fortitude to shrug off dozens of sales pitches in order to get what you want for how much you want it for, you're in luck. If you'd rather go to a store where you pick something on your own time, don't even bother coming to Vietnam....ever.

I went on two tours. The first one was a day trip out to the Mekong Delta that ran me 18US for transportation from my hotel, lunch, the tour and any entrance fees along the way. I got absolutely taken to the cleaners. The same thing was being offered at little tour shops for 8US. I don't know if I got a better tour or not, but it really didn't matter. It's tough to complain about doubling the lowest price when that only adds 10 bucks. The drive out to the delta wasn't necessarily nice, but it was interesting. The southern part of the country is intensely populated and dirty. Again, it's in direct correlation to their poverty level. You can't hold it against them because they've had a tough go at it. In the 80s Vietnam was listed in the top 10 poorest countries of the world. The entire world. That's poor. That's 'Chris Rock growing up' poor. They now find themselves as the second largest rice producer in the world and owners of a growing economy.

Enough capitulation to the documentary crowd though. On to the tour!

"Weirdest looking fruit I've ever had. A couple of bees claimed one my pieces. 

I didn't try to fight them off."

"I have video of this one too. I stuck my finger into the tray between the bees and pulled out some honey. I have to admit, it tasted really good."

"An 18 month old Reticulated Python. This little fella was 7kg but that same snake can reach 35 years old and over 100kg. I would not attempt to hold a 35 year old."

"Paddling our canoe down a tributary in the Mekong. I'd like to say I helped for a large part of it, but I really only did it long enough to get my picture taken."

"We stopped by a village factory (?) that was making coconut candy. I had a coconut drink earlier in the day and spooned out some of the actual coconut. Coconut candy = good, real coconut  = not good. Apparently the girls wrapping candies can do over a 1000 in a day. 

I can't even count that high."

"When we were in the village a few of us borrowed some bikes and rode around. It was a cool little stop. They even had a makeshift soccer field enclosed in a rope fence. Vietnam is absolutely crazy for soccer even though their country isn't a powerhouse yet. Give them a couple decades and they'll be where Korea and Japan are now."

"When we were working our way down one of the canals I could help thinking, 'Some troops probably came down this same canal 40 years ago.' It's odd to think that the country was a battleground not to long ago. I wouldn't swim in that water but it was still a nice view riding on it."

"It rained on us for a few minutes but nothing major. The storm left the sky looking fantastic when we hit the open water at the end of the day."

5 Million

It's been awhile but it's time to check in with my adoring crowd of.... 7? This post is about one thing, motorcycles. 5 Million of them.

I'm back in the bush after a week off and a short trip to Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City/South Vietnam. You know that old Sesame Street song, "One of these things is not like the other"? That was me. I was not like the others. Not even close to about 6 million others. I've never felt more like I was in a foreign country than when I was in Vietnam. The beautiful part of it was that english is a bit of a second language in Vietnam. The US dollar is a recognized currency there but the Dong rules across most of the country. How they've gotten away with having a currency called Dong for this long is one of life's greatest mysteries. The money might have an original name, but it sure doesn't have an original look. It's the same dude on every bill. What's that? You have a 2000 Dong bill? BAM! It's got Ho Chi Minh's face on it. Oh you've found a 500000 Dong bill? Yep, that's Ho Chi Minh on there too. Ah well, maybe next time fellas.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, we were just about to start in on the motorbikes right? Well, that's where we're going anyway. It's estimated that Ho Chi Minh City is home to over 5 million motorcycles/scooters. Try to process that information. Try to imagine the sheer mass of motorbikes residing in one city. According to one tour guide the logic of so many is as follows, "If you have no bike, no girlfriend. If you have bike, you have girlfriend. If girl have bike but you no bike, you no have girlfriend. If you have car, you have 4 girlfriends." A resulting lifestyle factor of the huge amount of motorbikes is freestyle and free moving traffic. The rules of the road are that if you have a motorbike or scooter you can pretty much go wherever you want. With the flow? Done. Against the flow? Done. Across the flow? Done. But there is no stopping. You stop? You better have your guard up because the 4 bikes behind you aren't stopping. I'd like to see the streets from above because from ground level the city appears to be a living organism fueled by motorcycle/scooter cells that carry the human nutrients from place to place. I only took one motorcycle taxi and that was enough. The dude who was driving weaved us between cars, other bikes and straight through traffic circles. You remember that scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation where they get stuck in a traffic circle? Picture that, except much much worse...... so much worse. I could never drive in that city.

You want to cross the street? You step out deliberately and carefully. You look at the flow of traffic coming at you because while they will move around you, you still have to give them the right of way. Luckily traffic moves pretty slow and most North Americans would be the same size as the motorcycles. They're only 100cc's. I'm pretty sure the guys from my wedding party would equal 7 Vietnamese motorcycles..... maybe 8.

The red-headed stepchild of the transportation options is the cyclo. It's basically a bike with 1 wheel in the back, 2 in the front and a seat for the passenger in the very front. I took a cyclo from one of the markets back to my hotel. I took video of the whole ride. If you're ever up for a tale of thrills, triumph and heartbreak, I can show you.

Stay tuned for more from my pseudo-interesting time in Vietnam.

Well, didn't see that one coming...

Some people impulse buy clothes. Some randomly choose to buy a large electronics item. More still make a spontaneous decision to buy one of those desk birds that bob into the cup of water.

Me. I just bought a roundtrip ticket to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam and thanks to Trip Advisor I've got myself a sweet little hotel to stay in for $30 a night.

For those who know how I travel, you will know that I plan the shit out of wherever I'm going. I know exactly where I'm going, what I'm going to do and which day I want to see which article of which item of which museum.

Which is why this decision makes no sense. I had actually been considering heading to Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia because I'd heard that it was usually cheap from Darwin and catered to tourists. A safe taste of SE Asia if you will. I'm sure HCMC will be relatively harmless but I know nothing about it and have no idea how to speak the language. Hell, I thought it was still called Saigon! One of the most peculiar parts of the flight choice is that I don't even like asian food that much. Seriously, I don't go out of my way to have it.... ever.

When I head there I will try to track down the odd internet cafe so I can check in from time to time. I'll only be there for 4 days so there can't be too much that goes wrong in that amount of time. I think.

I've already accepted that I'll be swindled. I'll be treated like a foolish tourist (because I will be). Some kid will probably even try to pick my pocket. I'm still looking forward to the experience and I guarantee I'll try to get as many sweet pics and video clips as I can while I'm there.

I fly out on Canada Day and get back to Darwin on July 5th. I'm pretty sure I'll never spend that long weekend the same way again.

What a day....

The angry plant post will have to wait. This was my yesterday:

I had to put this one out there because I just had one hell of a day full of ups and downs, mostly downs. The events themselves aren't really worth talking about but their summation creates a veritable tapestry.

The day started off like any other. Get up at an ungodly 5:45am, walk to bathroom, do business, brain begins to understand that it needs to be used, neurons begin to fire.

I decided to spend the day in the hangar office to get some things done. I had noticed some things that were bothering me so I sent out some e-mails to the people I'd been working with. No sooner had the last one gone out when stuff that rhymes with hit, kit and pit smashed its proverbial self against a jet turbine. I had unintentionally started a shitstorm. And two more would follow. I hate conflict. I did not enjoy the process.

So after stirring the wasp nest in the morning I was asked to take some equipment out to Cahill's Crossing to meet someone from one of the other camps.

Along the way the ute felt like it was stuttering and surging its way down the road unless I was at highway speed (100km+). It was odd and I figured I should have a look when I got to Cahill's. As I waited for the other vehicle to arrive I went down to the river for a peak. I didn't see any crocs but I did see some aboriginal kids fishing. They don't use rods though. What they do is spin the hook in the air kind of what you see with special ops troops and grappling hooks. They were able to throw the hook a good 20-30ft out before they grabbed the line and started pulling it in.

"Aboriginal kids fishing while the tide is low at Cahill's Crossing. That ute has been there since I first showed up. It must be stuck in there pretty good because when the tide is up it's completely submerged."

When I returned to the ute the other gents weren't far behind. It had been an hour of waiting but the time to pass on the equipment had finally come. But as I turned the key over so I could leave, the ute stuttered and failed. It was toast. Why? How did this happen?

Earlier in the day I filled up the ute as it was just below a quarter tank. Better to do it early so I can go straight to the hotel after work. Good thinking. Too bad I didn't pay attention enough to realize that it needed diesel instead of petrol (gas). That's right, I had filled the tank with gas and it had carried me over 50 km even though it was a diesel engine. To say I felt like a complete idiot would be like saying Larry Bird felt like the whitest player in the NBA of his time, it's obvious.

After working out what to do with said toasted ute, a ride back was worked out. Before I left the crossing, my ride asked to take a picture of me. Apparently I look exactly like a young Robert Downey Jr., whom his daughter has a huge crush on. This noticeably brightened my day even though I had no clue what he was talking about.

I caught a ride back to the hotel with the chopper, not the worst way to travel.

While I waited for the drillers in the bar some younger gents were playing pool beside me. I was fixated on the TV even though all it was showing was an Indian cooking show. Out of nowhere I heard a loud "pop" and then all of a sudden, "ting!". The cue ball had bounced off the racked balls and cracked against the edge of my stool only an inch away from my kibble and bits. I couldn't help but laugh. My day had officially taken a turn toward good.

Moral of the story is, even though you might make an epically stupid mistake, you can still come out on top if you look like Robert Downey Jr. and have testicles that are protected by the hand of God..... I hope God is a woman.

Kakadu National Park and Aurora Resort

I’ll start off with the cool stuff I’ve seen during chopper rides. I’ve been able to fly almost daily on a Bell 206 Long Ranger. The hangar that we use as an office and fly out of could use a good cleaning... or a fumigation.... ok so maybe it should be bulldozed and rebuilt. It is located right beside Ranger Mine which happens to be a huge uranium mine. If you look at the outline for Kakadu National Park you’ll see part of it cut out within its borders, that’s the mine lease. Kind of an odd situation, but the mine was here first. Anywho, when we fly out to the rig or our sampling locations we leave the park and head into Arnhem Land. To be honest with you, Arnhem Land looks nicer. The pilots have been awesome about showing me some of the more interesting spots on the way out and back. They pointed out a few locations where Crocodile Dundee was shot, an arch made of rock and a lowish pass of the East Alligator River valley.

"The view on the way out to the drill every day. Beats the roads we drive on in Northern Sask. Beats em like Alec Baldwin's red-headed stepchild.... if he had said red-headed stepchild."

"The arch is on the left. I've got great footage of this on the camcorder. Still have to get a better photo though."

"This billabong was used for Crocodile Dundee. It's within the outer boundaries of Kakadu."

"The East Alligator River cuts between the sandstone cliffs."

When we flew over the river I saw my first crocodile. We were a couple hundred feet up and it still looked big. It dove under water after awhile and it was crazy how fast it could disappear. There’s a 4-5 m one that has been seen on a regular bank many times but I haven’t seen it yet. It was cool just to see one in the wild instead of a zoo (even though I plan on seeing at least one closer up in a zoo). Salties scare me more than wolves or bears. I’m a legitimate food source for them and they’re in all the water sources. Wolves will avoid you altogether (unless it’s a mangy lone wolf) and you can stand your ground against a black bear. A saltwater crocodile is invisible in any murky water and they’re so big they can take down anything that lives on land in Australia. They’ve even been seen to take down a water buffalo and they’re huge. I also find that locals have way more fear and respect for crocodiles than Canadians have for wolves, bears, cougars (the one with claws…ok maybe that doesn’t separate the definition enough….the ones that stalk you….nope that doesn’t get it done either….the ones that live in the wild…yeah that one might work) or gophers. The Northern Territory always sees at least a couple people get picked off by them every year. Pets get picked off way more often. They are the apex predator for the continent: Crocodiles 1, Dingoes 0.

The fieldie here at Beatrice is a unique one. He looks like Mr. Bean, except with a mullet. He even mumbles when he talks with a deep voice…. it’s uncanny.

I just watched a commercial for a new reality TV show called RBT. You know what that stands for? Could it be Robot Battle Trainers? Nope. Rollerderby Babes of Tasmania? Wrong again. It actually stands for Random Breath Testing. That’s right, they have an entire show dedicated to police pulling people over for a breathalyzer test. Once again, Australia has amazed me.

The town that’s nearby is called Jabiru. It’s a mining town that supplies basic services for everyone working at Ranger as well as the tourists that need somewhere to stay. The most famous place to stay is a Holiday Inn that looks like a crocodile form the air.

"Not nearly as impressive at ground level."

We’re not staying at that hotel. Ours looks like a bunch of Chinese-style farmer hats set in a circle.

"Aurora Resort. A hotel frozen in time, but they chose the wrong decade."

From the outside, the place looks like its got itself together. But once you step inside those doors, you soon realize that this place was built in the early 80s and hasn’t seen an update since. Almost no water comes out of the shower head (note: after 4 days this was fixed, woot!), several people have gotten bed bug bites because the sheets aren’t cleaned even after being in the room for weeks, the TV uses rabbit ears for reception and there’s no internet. It does, however, have air-conditioning (or air con), sweet sweet air-conditioning.



June 23rd

I had an awesome day today. Work was ok. Did quite a bit of hiking through the bush and managed to see some cool stuff.

I thought our day would take us longer so I told the chopper pilot to pick us up around 4pm. We ended up getting done closer to 2:30 and had to kill some time. I went on a small walkabout and stayed close to the LZ (landing zone, love using that terminology, just once I’d like to radio the pilot to tell him he’s got a ‘hot LZ’) that we cleared.

We ran out of water so the walkabout was also meant to try for a creek that might have been nearby. I found some stagnant water left over in a dried up creek. Stayed away from that stuff. I stood out in the dried up creek bed and listened to the various sounds around me. The flies were buzzing enough to drown out most noises at first but when they calmed down I started to hear the birds, frogs and hopping insects around me. It was serene and a pure moment of peace….then I heard a new noise. I turned around to see a snake no more than a few feet away and it was slithering toward me. I took a step back and as soon as I moved it darted in the opposite direction and did a half coil. We'd obviously surprised each other. I think it was waiting for me to go all Steve Irwin on it and try to grab its tail. Instead I took a couple more steps back and it quickly disappeared beneath the bent over grass.

"I managed to get a quick pick as it darted off."

Given the new wildlife sighting I looked up what snake it was as soon as I got back to the office. It’s one of two things. Brown Snake or Taipan. I looked at a lot of photos of Australian snakes and I still came to those two. Both make the top 10 deadliest snakes in the world. The brown sits around the bottom of the top 10 while the Taipan is always numero uno. So it was either a mildy life threatening encounter…. or a death defying moment of common sense. As in, “Hey, there’s a snake. Wait a second, aren’t all the snakes in Australia dangerous? No, they’re not all dangerous, idiot. Pfft…. but that one might be. Probably best to play it cool and slowly back away, yeah that seems like the right thing to do.” Whether it could have killed me or killed me 10 times over with one bite, either way, it was cool to see something like that and manage to keep it safe.

Oh yeah, when we were picked up by the chopper we noticed a creek that was a few hundred metres away. There was a big croc sunning himself on a bank. Kind of glad I didn't go looking for water in that direction.

 
Preview of next post.... "All the plants that hate you when you're walking in the outback."