(1957)

"Ontario's Pipeline on Wheels"

PART THREE, --- The summer was going crazy, we would be leaving town on Sunday night, and practically living in the truck till the following Saturday. Not really having any time off to do something for ourselves.

The asphalt plant at Cochran, (500 miles east of the Lakehead) was located in a gravel pit, about 10 miles out of town. They had a portable bunk house, an office shack and a cookhouse. It was a government of Ontario camp, and they had special rules all their own.

Bulk Carriers had made arrangements with them to allot us 3 bunks for the drivers after unloading. We were to sleep for 8 hours before heading back. They also gave us cart blanch in the cookhouse, at their expense. It was nothing less than roast beef and "T" bone steaks for the rest of the season. In their wisdom, the government, that is, made it a rule to do all beef in saltpeter. They assumed that no all male bush camp of theirs was going to have any sex problems.

We had been practically run into the ground this particular week. It was Friday and we were unloading in Cochran. Jim had finished unloading first, and was pulling up to the cookhouse while I backed in to unload.

He really had a thing for the free roast beef and steaks, and made full use of the arrangement. By the time I finished unloading and into the cookhouse, Jim was just finishing up, with steak and eggs plus he had 3 roast beef sandwiches to go. (Saltpeter and all) He was in a hurry to get going, one of the local guys, had invited him to go out in his new boat, and perhaps get in a little fishing. I sat down and started into a big chunk of roast beef. He watched as I trimmed the outside off. What are you always doing that for, he said? I told him about the saltpetre, and I just didn't want it. He told me that, that is just a load of crap.

Well I was just going to drag my butt back this trip, so I told him to go on and not wait for me. He said OK, and took off.

There was a Husky Truck Stop at Hearst, and you always stopped in for a coffee or something. Long Lac the next town was 132 miles away through a bush road, pretty well under construction all the way.

I had just parked, and was heading in for coffee, when a car came roaring in and stopped right beside me. The driver got out and called me by name. I hadn't recognized him, but it was Jim's dad. He had his wife and Jim's wife in the car with him.

He asked if I knew where Jim was, and I answered, yes, he should be about an hour ahead of you. What are you doing up here anyway? He said that he had some time off, and thought that he would come up to visit his son and bring him a present. He said that no man can work that long in the bush country and not be serviced. It's not natural.

We all had a coffee together, and then they took off trying to catch up. By the time I got back to the Lakehead, Jim had left me a message that he would not be around. His dad got a motel room for Jim and his wife, away from everyone, and never told any of us where they were.

Well Jim was back at our room early the next morning, looking like death warmed over. He said that, his wife was  on her way home already, and they had been fighting all night. Apparently all that steady diet of saltpeter must have taken effect. He couldn't perform at all, even after being away for six weeks. She accused him of running around and not being faithful. Jim tried to explain the effect, and compulsory use of the stuff in the government camps, but she just wouldn't buy it. The old man thought that it would be better all round if they headed back a little early.

With the amount of hours we were working; if you could find a minute to run around, it wouldn't work anyway, you were too tired to do anything but sleep.

It took quite a bit of time to get over that episode. For one thing, he never had any more beef from the road camp. Time heals all, and eventually it did.

END PART THREE, ---

        ----------------- William (Diesel Gypsy) Weatherstone.                  RETURN TO STORY MENU