Making her mark
A claim staker takes you through a cold winter day at work
22 Mar 2003 By Jessica Bjorkman
I awake suddenly to radio music at 5:15am. I cuddle back into my warm blankets and wait for Katarina to turn off the alarm. Soon she is up making our lunches and breakfast. After breakfast we load up the truck with our snowshoes, axes, cruiser vests and winter clothing. We leave town in the dark and begin the drive to our work area about 45kms away. We all note the temperature as we leave town and watch as it steadily declines the closer we drive to our destination.
It is -32°C and we have a long snow machine ride to our starting point. The Bearcat reluctantly starts up. Even though we are dressed in our warmest clothes, the cold eventually finds its way in. The boss lets me off on the lakeshore after I have rid all my extra layers. I watch him disappear, swallowed by the vast expanse of the lake. I brace myself and bravely expose my bare hands to the wind and cold to strap on my snowshoes. That finished - thankfully - I begin the kilometre long walk to my starting point. By the time I reach Bjorn’s post my toes are thawed.
Bjorn staked a line north-south and now I must stake a line east-west from his corner post. I mark his post with the GPS so I can use the “Go To” function to know where to make my next post. This replaces having to wear a hip chain. Ready to stake I pull out the compass, raise it to eye level and sight in my desired direction. It is a beautiful sunny morning. I blaze trees, clear brush and branches, flag wherever I cannot blaze, check behind me that the line is clearly visible and continue on until it is time to sight in another point. When I guess I have staked 200 metres (half a length) I check the GPS for my position to see if I am on bearing. Any deviation can be corrected before I reach the next post. As I near one length from the corner post I search for a suitable tree for a line post. It has to be big enough to become a square four-foot high post with each side blazed 4 inches across and one foot down. First I square the tree, then chop it down and nail on the line tags. That is one length done and seven more to go. I continue on, only ever stopping long enough to eat a granola bar.
Doing physical work at this temperature I am limited to what I can wear. If I wear too much, not only will I feel awkward, I will perspire a lot making me wet and cold. I wear the minimum amount of clothing required to keep me warm with physical exertion. I like to wear polypropylene as one layer near my skin, then a wool shirt and an outer shell of Gortex coat and rain pants. The Gortex coat is a good shield from the wind and also the hood prevents snow falling down my back. Every time I blaze a tree, the snow-laden branches dump their load on my head and shoulders. For this very reason, every one of us prefer cold temperatures. The snow is dry and dusts off our bodies, not like when it’s warmer and we become soaking wet. In the cold, we stay dry and usually are warmer than being wet in -10°C weather. Despite the wind robbing my heat, it has its merit too. With two feet of snow on the ground, the wind has hardened each layer into a crust allowing me to float over top with snowshoes.
When it is time for lunch, I decide to build a fire. I grill my sandwich over the flames and sip hot soup from a small Thermos. Soon I continue on. Winter days have very few hours of daylight and if I am not out by our4:30pm walk out time, Dad will be worried. In the afternoon I am privileged to have one length of beautiful huge mature Jack Pines to stake through. These old forests are very rare and it makes me think of what most of the province must have looked like one hundred years ago before it was logged. Finally, I meet Katarina’s north-south line and join mine to her post. Now I must walk out to a lake and walk down the lake to a new logging road where I will be picked up by Bjorn and Dad. The sky is a warm glow and the setting sun casts long shadows as my snowshoes crunch across the lake. The wind bites my red cheeks and my breath frosts my hair and eyelashes. I know a warm truck is waiting that will carry me to a warm supper and a hot shower. Crunch, crunch, crunch…..
A claim staker takes you through a cold winter day at work
22 Mar 2003 By Jessica Bjorkman
I awake suddenly to radio music at 5:15am. I cuddle back into my warm blankets and wait for Katarina to turn off the alarm. Soon she is up making our lunches and breakfast. After breakfast we load up the truck with our snowshoes, axes, cruiser vests and winter clothing. We leave town in the dark and begin the drive to our work area about 45kms away. We all note the temperature as we leave town and watch as it steadily declines the closer we drive to our destination.
It is -32°C and we have a long snow machine ride to our starting point. The Bearcat reluctantly starts up. Even though we are dressed in our warmest clothes, the cold eventually finds its way in. The boss lets me off on the lakeshore after I have rid all my extra layers. I watch him disappear, swallowed by the vast expanse of the lake. I brace myself and bravely expose my bare hands to the wind and cold to strap on my snowshoes. That finished - thankfully - I begin the kilometre long walk to my starting point. By the time I reach Bjorn’s post my toes are thawed.
Bjorn staked a line north-south and now I must stake a line east-west from his corner post. I mark his post with the GPS so I can use the “Go To” function to know where to make my next post. This replaces having to wear a hip chain. Ready to stake I pull out the compass, raise it to eye level and sight in my desired direction. It is a beautiful sunny morning. I blaze trees, clear brush and branches, flag wherever I cannot blaze, check behind me that the line is clearly visible and continue on until it is time to sight in another point. When I guess I have staked 200 metres (half a length) I check the GPS for my position to see if I am on bearing. Any deviation can be corrected before I reach the next post. As I near one length from the corner post I search for a suitable tree for a line post. It has to be big enough to become a square four-foot high post with each side blazed 4 inches across and one foot down. First I square the tree, then chop it down and nail on the line tags. That is one length done and seven more to go. I continue on, only ever stopping long enough to eat a granola bar.
Doing physical work at this temperature I am limited to what I can wear. If I wear too much, not only will I feel awkward, I will perspire a lot making me wet and cold. I wear the minimum amount of clothing required to keep me warm with physical exertion. I like to wear polypropylene as one layer near my skin, then a wool shirt and an outer shell of Gortex coat and rain pants. The Gortex coat is a good shield from the wind and also the hood prevents snow falling down my back. Every time I blaze a tree, the snow-laden branches dump their load on my head and shoulders. For this very reason, every one of us prefer cold temperatures. The snow is dry and dusts off our bodies, not like when it’s warmer and we become soaking wet. In the cold, we stay dry and usually are warmer than being wet in -10°C weather. Despite the wind robbing my heat, it has its merit too. With two feet of snow on the ground, the wind has hardened each layer into a crust allowing me to float over top with snowshoes.
When it is time for lunch, I decide to build a fire. I grill my sandwich over the flames and sip hot soup from a small Thermos. Soon I continue on. Winter days have very few hours of daylight and if I am not out by our4:30pm walk out time, Dad will be worried. In the afternoon I am privileged to have one length of beautiful huge mature Jack Pines to stake through. These old forests are very rare and it makes me think of what most of the province must have looked like one hundred years ago before it was logged. Finally, I meet Katarina’s north-south line and join mine to her post. Now I must walk out to a lake and walk down the lake to a new logging road where I will be picked up by Bjorn and Dad. The sky is a warm glow and the setting sun casts long shadows as my snowshoes crunch across the lake. The wind bites my red cheeks and my breath frosts my hair and eyelashes. I know a warm truck is waiting that will carry me to a warm supper and a hot shower. Crunch, crunch, crunch…..
