Yesterday Dave called a company meeting. Remember that is three of us. He reminded us that at the beginning of the year, we signed a contract to work this last pay period (half of a month) at a 20% reduction in pay, because there are four days with no ships. Okay, we both (Barry and I) knew that. But Dave throws in a new twist. He wants one of us to voluntarily take a lay off. He has looked at the pre-booked tours and decided that he won't need both of us on any of the ship days. So on the one hand, that is perfect because, as I said, everyone in town is ready for the season to be over. But on the other hand, (trust me on the math, here) continuing to work nets a 13% pay raise when calculated per day, plus the opportunity for tips, plus both of our wives still have to work. So working makes sense, too. What to do. If I take off, I will have lots of time to get the trailer ready for travel. We can play hard on Peggie's remaining days off, maybe complete the bucket list. But I don't need that much time to prep the trailer, and I'd throw away enough money to buy all of our gas on the way home.
We have three days to volunteer, but if neither of us does, then Dave will be forced to make a management decision. That is a pretty good reason not to volunteer, right there.
But what will Dave do if we both want to take the lay off? That's a fun scenario, too.
All over town, employees are bailing out, and here is Dave trying to toss one overboard. TWTWS
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Semi-hare-brained
Today is a three-ship day, but two of them leave early, so people tend to buy fewer tours for fear they won't get back on time. What do they think, that we run out of gas or get stuck or something? Sheesh, we are all professionals here.
So I opened the office and played Maytag repairman until noon. Nada.
I was going to replace the taillight on the truck, but Don was free too, so we had to go do something.
Stop giggling, nothing crazy has happened yet!
We both have wanted to hike the trail beside International Creek (it is called that because it forms the border between BC and Alaska) because there are numerous waterfalls and runs into a pretty little alpine valley into a lake. So we decided to do that. The only warning bell that should be sounding is that we are together so there is nobody to rescue us if necessary. We saw a couple of goats on a vertical cliff on the way up the valley. That was cool.
When we got to the pullout, we got water bottles and jackets and set out down the trail. It was a steep trail. We both commented that it would be harder coming back up. Halfway down we came to a point where we could see that the lake on the right drained via a creek to the lake on the left, a fact not obvious from the top. Somebody had placed almost enough rocks to make the crossing possible. Nobody fell, but Don swung a boot through the water unnecessarily. We got up to the first waterfall, but there was no way to get to the bottom, so we went to the top. Then we wandered around for a while until we found a pretty pond. I sat down on the tundra or whatever you call that soft plant and found a nanny and kid to watch on the opposite hillside.
When we decided to go back after hiking about a mile and getting only a half mile away from the truck we wanted a zip line or bridge. We were level with the parking lot, but had to go down about 200 vertical feet and back up about 200 feet. Vertically. And we were at high altitude, 3000 feet or so!
Anyway, it was at this point that my little toe reminded me that it was broken, and my thighs remembered how heavy my feet are, and my lungs got real small. Don said his glutes were complaining the loudest. But we persevered. The climb (I said vertical, didn't I?) was accomplished in only four stages.
One of the friendly officers was at the customs gate and she said something like "Oh, the two of you are together, huh?" Her tone suggested that she thought we might be a problem together. Afterwards Don told me that he had told her he had to pull me out of the sand on Friday.
So now we are home safe and sound. Fresh-caught halibut is baking at Don's, Peggie is fixing asparagus and potatoes to go with it, and I am posting. I always get the hard job.
So I opened the office and played Maytag repairman until noon. Nada.
I was going to replace the taillight on the truck, but Don was free too, so we had to go do something.
Stop giggling, nothing crazy has happened yet!
We both have wanted to hike the trail beside International Creek (it is called that because it forms the border between BC and Alaska) because there are numerous waterfalls and runs into a pretty little alpine valley into a lake. So we decided to do that. The only warning bell that should be sounding is that we are together so there is nobody to rescue us if necessary. We saw a couple of goats on a vertical cliff on the way up the valley. That was cool.
When we got to the pullout, we got water bottles and jackets and set out down the trail. It was a steep trail. We both commented that it would be harder coming back up. Halfway down we came to a point where we could see that the lake on the right drained via a creek to the lake on the left, a fact not obvious from the top. Somebody had placed almost enough rocks to make the crossing possible. Nobody fell, but Don swung a boot through the water unnecessarily. We got up to the first waterfall, but there was no way to get to the bottom, so we went to the top. Then we wandered around for a while until we found a pretty pond. I sat down on the tundra or whatever you call that soft plant and found a nanny and kid to watch on the opposite hillside.
When we decided to go back after hiking about a mile and getting only a half mile away from the truck we wanted a zip line or bridge. We were level with the parking lot, but had to go down about 200 vertical feet and back up about 200 feet. Vertically. And we were at high altitude, 3000 feet or so!
Anyway, it was at this point that my little toe reminded me that it was broken, and my thighs remembered how heavy my feet are, and my lungs got real small. Don said his glutes were complaining the loudest. But we persevered. The climb (I said vertical, didn't I?) was accomplished in only four stages.
One of the friendly officers was at the customs gate and she said something like "Oh, the two of you are together, huh?" Her tone suggested that she thought we might be a problem together. Afterwards Don told me that he had told her he had to pull me out of the sand on Friday.
So now we are home safe and sound. Fresh-caught halibut is baking at Don's, Peggie is fixing asparagus and potatoes to go with it, and I am posting. I always get the hard job.
Ruminations on ending the season
Welcome to the blog, Anita. Thank you for letting us know you are here, and for sharing.
You made me think a bit. Skagway, when you are working, is like Tucson in February, too much to do and too little time. Working half time might allow for all the interesting things to do and see. So much is dependent on the season that you can't do it all on just a visit. Working full time here is just like working full time anywhere, you get too tired to do everything that sounds good at first. For instance, there was a blues musician here recently, and more recently, bluegrass. Both sounded like fun a month ago, but come the night of, and you're just too tired to stay up that late and battle the smoking crowd. (They don't have Tucson's nearly universal ban on smoking here) On the other hand, it would be hard to stay here all summer with no job. As we have said before, life is expensive here. Compromise: a necessary evil.
We will not get to do everything in the short time left. We have not ridden the train yet, nor gone on the helicopters. We haven't hiked up to Dewey Lake, something we wanted to do in May. We haven't overnighted in Whitehorse, but mainly because there is nothing so special there that we needed to. They have the most pathetic Walmart in the world.
Everyone you talk to now is in agreement that the season is a month too long. I don't know anybody who wouldn't end it today if they could. Note to cruise lines: take two weeks off each end of the season and sell the same number of berths on fewer ships; win-win.
I talked with another driver today who said he is done, not returning next year (after 5 years), then said that is the biggest lie told in Skagway.
You made me think a bit. Skagway, when you are working, is like Tucson in February, too much to do and too little time. Working half time might allow for all the interesting things to do and see. So much is dependent on the season that you can't do it all on just a visit. Working full time here is just like working full time anywhere, you get too tired to do everything that sounds good at first. For instance, there was a blues musician here recently, and more recently, bluegrass. Both sounded like fun a month ago, but come the night of, and you're just too tired to stay up that late and battle the smoking crowd. (They don't have Tucson's nearly universal ban on smoking here) On the other hand, it would be hard to stay here all summer with no job. As we have said before, life is expensive here. Compromise: a necessary evil.
We will not get to do everything in the short time left. We have not ridden the train yet, nor gone on the helicopters. We haven't hiked up to Dewey Lake, something we wanted to do in May. We haven't overnighted in Whitehorse, but mainly because there is nothing so special there that we needed to. They have the most pathetic Walmart in the world.
Everyone you talk to now is in agreement that the season is a month too long. I don't know anybody who wouldn't end it today if they could. Note to cruise lines: take two weeks off each end of the season and sell the same number of berths on fewer ships; win-win.
I talked with another driver today who said he is done, not returning next year (after 5 years), then said that is the biggest lie told in Skagway.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Third half of a day off
We had a wonderful potluck (is there any other kind) with nine people, then played cards. Don was not feeling well, neither was Janie, so they didn't come. There is a flu bug in town, so we hope they don't get it too bad, and we don't want it at all. Lysol, lysol, lysol.
We heard stories of two more bears in town, so the darkness at night is not so cool when we have to walk very far.
A very full, well spent day off. And we have all kinds of leftovers for tomorrow.
We heard stories of two more bears in town, so the darkness at night is not so cool when we have to walk very far.
A very full, well spent day off. And we have all kinds of leftovers for tomorrow.
Second half of a day off
We did head north for a look at colorful changes, and we saw some. The only animals we sighted were indeed mountain goats, some high up, some not so high. We got to get out and wander amongst the plants, ate some blueberries we found there, didn't eat some unidentified berries we found also, and collected some leaves. Mostly we had bluish skies, but got some rain on the way home. I showed Peggie where I had gotten stuck (AND DON HAD TO PULL ME OUT) and she agreed that it didn't look like a place where you'd get stuck. One of the things that makes this such a nice drive is that everything looks different going the other way. There are nooks and crannies along the road that you can see into from one direction, but not the other. Going over Mingus Mountain is like that. Driving between Phoenix and Tucson isn't. Our camera battery ran out, and I announced that to the universe, but the animals still didn't come out.
We got back in time for our potluck dinner, so now the third half of the day off can begin.
We got back in time for our potluck dinner, so now the third half of the day off can begin.
The first half of a day off
We awoke with no alarm. Slipped out of bed slowly. Sipped coffee. Ate some toast.
When we finally felt like it, we made mango-avocado salsa and lemon-lavender cookies for a potluck tonight. Peggie is thankful that we ran out of propane during cookie baking rather than in the middle of the night(which would have made for a cold morning shower). Me too. Our second-hand iPod is providing great cooking music, the sun has broken through and we are approaching a dry, 60 degree day. The day is only half over and we think we will drive north to see more changing leaves. The rapidity of change is unexpected. You can tell we don't live in a deciduous forest area all the time.
Last night we heard several bear-scare bangs for the first time in 6 or 7 weeks. Thursday my tour had a bear sighting, but they are scarce these days.
There are two and a half weeks of cruise ships left, but some people have already gone home. Some, like Karin, to return to a job, some to return to college. We have discovered that taking a cruise up here in September is not necessarily a good idea. Some services have been curtailed or stopped completely. While Peggie and Don and I are all still chipper and upbeat, many seasonal and permanent people are getting quite grumpy. The weather is only barely tolerable. The only (semi) reliable animal sightings are mountain goats and they are way up high. But the leaves are changing in a beautiful fashion, there are sometimes pretty cloud/mountain sights, and there are only two and a half weeks of cruise ships left. And when we return to retirement it will not be over 100 degrees in Tucson.
When we finally felt like it, we made mango-avocado salsa and lemon-lavender cookies for a potluck tonight. Peggie is thankful that we ran out of propane during cookie baking rather than in the middle of the night(which would have made for a cold morning shower). Me too. Our second-hand iPod is providing great cooking music, the sun has broken through and we are approaching a dry, 60 degree day. The day is only half over and we think we will drive north to see more changing leaves. The rapidity of change is unexpected. You can tell we don't live in a deciduous forest area all the time.
Last night we heard several bear-scare bangs for the first time in 6 or 7 weeks. Thursday my tour had a bear sighting, but they are scarce these days.
There are two and a half weeks of cruise ships left, but some people have already gone home. Some, like Karin, to return to a job, some to return to college. We have discovered that taking a cruise up here in September is not necessarily a good idea. Some services have been curtailed or stopped completely. While Peggie and Don and I are all still chipper and upbeat, many seasonal and permanent people are getting quite grumpy. The weather is only barely tolerable. The only (semi) reliable animal sightings are mountain goats and they are way up high. But the leaves are changing in a beautiful fashion, there are sometimes pretty cloud/mountain sights, and there are only two and a half weeks of cruise ships left. And when we return to retirement it will not be over 100 degrees in Tucson.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Oh, That's what Blogfodder is.
First of all, Don came over last night to tell us he had to go up the jeep mountain to rescue a jeep who's gas tank had fallen off. Yep, fell right off on the trail. Just hanging on enough to be dangerous. So he got to get on the ground, crawl under the jeep and disconnect the threads holding the tank on. Then they coasted the jeep in neutral down the mountain and had it towed to Whitehorse. Don got to get muddy and wet (it was raining, of course) but best of all he cut himself on something enough to draw blood. A successful rescue.
Today, I again got to drive a bus to Whitehorse for radiator repairs. On the way back I was so struck by the fall foliage that I decided to pull over for some pictures. Who said uh oh?
The pictures came out great, we'll share them in an album later.
When I tried to pull back onto the road, though, I discovered that I was parked in soft sand with only a single layer of gravel on top of it for camoflage. Yes, I was stuck. But not bad. I worked for about 30 minutes to get out without making it worse. And I drew blood, a good sign. Then a good samaritan, another bus driver on a day off, stopped to offer assistance, but eventually I asked him to take me to Carcross where I might get help. Finally, I called Don. He came quickly (it is a 90 minute drive) and pulled me back onto the road.
So the point is.......I GOT STUCK AND DON HAD TO PULL ME OUT!
Today, I again got to drive a bus to Whitehorse for radiator repairs. On the way back I was so struck by the fall foliage that I decided to pull over for some pictures. Who said uh oh?
The pictures came out great, we'll share them in an album later.
When I tried to pull back onto the road, though, I discovered that I was parked in soft sand with only a single layer of gravel on top of it for camoflage. Yes, I was stuck. But not bad. I worked for about 30 minutes to get out without making it worse. And I drew blood, a good sign. Then a good samaritan, another bus driver on a day off, stopped to offer assistance, but eventually I asked him to take me to Carcross where I might get help. Finally, I called Don. He came quickly (it is a 90 minute drive) and pulled me back onto the road.
So the point is.......I GOT STUCK AND DON HAD TO PULL ME OUT!
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