The recent dearth of posting is because I've been up in the foothills of the Olympic mountains on a job...
It's a pretty spot, and the project - building a footbridge for the Park Service - is a trifle less grubby than the usual sort of "7-Eleven" and "filling station" projects that make up the working week of a private geotech, but sadly the part we're involved in hasn't gone well and is likely to end up in litigation. Well, shit.
This week the normal outdoors adventure was enhanced by about two to three feet of old snow on the trail into the site. This stuff was the worst of Northwest snow; wet, slushy on top when it wasn't glazed with ice, heavy, and dirty with needle- and bark litter. In several places it had corniced over the narrow trail and there was a certain...thrill of uncertainty...whether one was walking on two feet of old, rotten melting snow over the trail or two feet of old, rotten melting snow over...nothing.
And the weather, too, managed to be the worst of the Pacific climate; cold but not cold enough for snow. So you got a steady misting rain but never warmed up above the forties. The wet raingear and the chill air combined to suck the heat out of you; I had no less than five layers on, including a heavy snow parka, on Monday and found myself shivering like a vibrating string all afternoon. Brrrr.
This week's work went as planned. But that well is poisoned already, and all factions are whetting their legal knives. It made the slippery walk to and fro each day seem a little longer and colder.
And I'm due to return next week to test the anchors installed in this one.
I hope the weather turns either warmer or colder by then. The feeling of hunching miserably under a cold rain is all too reminiscent of too many bad days I spent in the field in my youth.