The Quest for the Holy Ski Bum Grail: Part-time Employment

Going against what some consider true ski bum style, we've all been trying to acquire jobs for the winter. Job hunting in Rossland isn't cheap...photocopies are 25 cents each and drinks at the pub are six bucks! The job market in Rossland (as much as there can be one) is so different from the job market in a regular city that I've had a tough time sorting it out. 

Not much use checking the paper for jobs here...most are obtained by knowing the right person!

Here's summary of the experience so far:


1. Evening and weekend jobs are the cream of the crop. Not so very long ago, I was searching for a job in Edmonton and whining about only finding opportunities to work evenings and weekends, and mostly part time. Now I'm whining about day jobs and full time work. And I'm not alone in my rant, is the universal rant of the partially-employed ski bum: "Who the hell wants to work full time? Forty hours a week! I'd never get any skiing done! Isn't there work to be done somewhere after the lifts stop running?!" Oh, the distress of it all. 

Not my to-do list, but not that far off...

A friend of ours that we met in town has struggled with finding a job. She managed to find an opportunity working for lodging on the hill, and although it comes with a free ski pass, she will be required to work a minimum of forty hours a week. A terrible deal if skiing for the season is your goal! Only two days a week to ski, and that's providing you don't need to clean your house, buy groceries, or sleep in.


2. Ski bums are notoriously slackers. Many of the places I've inquired about work mention how they don't want people calling in on a powder day. There are many people in the town who work all summer and enjoy not working at all during the winter. When talking to other ski bums about employment, they've often said "You don't have to work, do you? Which is generally followed by a look of pity followed by wistful looks of disgust as they remember their most recent bout with employment.

Habit 1: Smoke pot. Frequently.

3. If getting a job, the first place a ski bum looks is the ski hill itself. Ski hills around the country prey on the desperation of visiting Aussies and destitute ski bums. Here are some horror stories from hills that are not Red Mountain:

• Waitressing at a pub for the season where they withhold your tips every night until the end of the season. If you quit before the end of the season, you don't get your tips.
• Sending you home unpaid for the day for showing up ten minutes late, and then also revoking your pass for the day so you can't ski.
• Revoking your pass on your days off for incidents like writing found on a locker, or cleaning that needs to be done before you're allowed to ski. 
• Management getting bonuses for saving money, which results in cutting back staff hours as much as possible. Not enjoyable when you've budgeted for x hours/week for the season.
• Starting work less than a full month before Christmas to ensure you don't get paid extra for working Christmas/Boxing Day
• Offer bonuses for staying the whole season but strategically firing most of the employees before the season ends. I'm told that most hills don't offer bonuses anymore.

Although some of those experiences may be the fault of the employee, it's still an uncomfortable situation when your employer has that much control over your free time and days off. It's obvious why some are very weary of working for the hill.

4. You have a degree? Higher education? No one cares. What they really want to know is if you have experience serving coffee. Or cleaning. Or selling stuff. Traits and qualities which can only be gained in a previous life, so forget learning on the job. For the first time in my life I am beginning to wish I spent less time studying and more time being a barista/bartender/server. Even for something like being a lifty (a job which is infamously done mostly by stoners) I was lacking the experience to even land an interview. I feel both over and under qualified at the same time!

Do you know that minimum wage in BC is eight dollars an hour? Do you know that it's the lowest minimum wage in Canada? Do you know why I know this? Because I can now count myself amongst the proud ranks of Canada's lowest legally paid workers!


That's right, friends. I have renounced my hippie ways and become a productive member of society! Cleaning condos for a lodging company on the hill! I get up in the morning, scrape off the car, drive up to the hill, clean for four hours, come back and dig out my curb-side parking spot, and enjoy the rest of my afternoon knowing I made 32 pre-tax dollars. Ah, the good life! No free ski pass, but I only have to work three days a week. I'm sure this will all make sense once I start "shredding pow" down the glorious peaks...or at least will hold me over until I find a better job.

McDonald's: An Exposé

For the second time this month, I'm presenting to you, dear readers, a piece of investigative journalism. Last week you learned the horrors of modern-day air poppers, and this week my subject revolves around McDonald's. There is no shortage of investigative topics surrounding the infamous golden arches. I'm not here to debunk the myth of whether the "beef" is really beef, nor am I going to try to explain why Canadian prices are 30%-40% higher than American ones even while our dollar is close to par. I'm not even going to explain the current tragedy of Canadians not having widespread access to the boneless-pork-patty-shaped-like-a-rib. What I'm really here to talk about is...cheeseburgers.

There are no greasy fast food outlets in Rossland. The closest thing is a Subway, and without a deep fryer, it fails to meet my greasy needs. Whenever we venture off to Trail for a cheap grocery shop, our primary destination is Wal-Mart, which like every other Wal-Mart has an in-store McDonald's.

McDonald's isn't my favourite fast food outlet, but their version of a cheeseburger hits the spot and their salt sticks are delicious. On a side note, I love to get my cheeseburgers with mac sauce, and sometimes lettuce. It's like a mini Big Mac. And it doesn't cost anything extra! Anyway...

The Cheeseburger. Classic. Delicious. Improved upon only by the addition of mac sauce.

After closely examining their menu and placing my order, the :


Cheeseburger: $1.69
Bacon Cheeseburger: $1.39

The Bacon Cheeseburger...like a cheeseburger, but with bacon. Also note that it's not nearly as good-looking as it's previously pictured cousin.

I know math wasn't my strongest subject, and I never did take economics, but I am unable to figure out how adding two strips of a secondary animal to my sandwich costs less than making it an all-beef affair. McDonald's is tricky with their pricing. The cheeseburger price is not posted, but the bacon cheeseburger is brightly displayed on the $1.39 menu board! I'm sure most people assume there is no way a cheeseburger could cost more than a bacon cheeseburger. Fools!

Cheeseburger: $1.69. I'm not lovin' it..

The solution to this whole problem is obvious: I just need to order a bacon cheeseburger without bacon. So during the next Wal-Mart adventure, I did.

Approximate transcript:

Rachel: Hello, I would like a bacon cheeseburger without bacon, please.
McDonald's: Uh...so we can just make you a cheeseburger?
R: Well, the cheeseburger costs 30 cents more than a bacon cheeseburger, so I would like a bacon cheeseburger without bacon.
M: Really? They aren't the same price? So...it's just the price then?
R: Yes.
M: Okay...a bacon cheeseburger without bacon...
R: And add mac sauce, please.

Later that day, I went home and called McDonald's to see if one of their employees could explain to me why it costs 22% more not to eat bacon. The closest thing to an explanation I could get was a "The bacon cheeseburger is a feature of our value menu and is priced lower than a cheeseburger even though, with two strips of bacon, it would seem to offer more value."

Proof that actually did order a bacon cheeseburger without bacon. Unfortunately, this receipt doesn't have the price breakdown.

Truthfully, I felt like an idiot. It's only 30 cents, right? But, like most great battles, it's not about the money, it's about principle. I prefer my cheeseburgers (mini macs!) without bacon...perhaps next time I will order the bacon on the side, and although it will seem unnecessarily pretentious, I think it will be easier for the employees to comprehend.

It's Always Movember in Rossland

We've been living in Rossland for four weeks now, and the town continues to grow on me. It's been snowing for the past few days, and was actually enough snow to require a shovel! The familiar stomp-stomp-stomp of everyone banging the snow off their footwear is back, and I'm happily annoyed with the fact my socks are pulled off every time I take off my boots.

This sexy Jetta hasn't moved since it started snowing. I figure it's the next-best-thing to  a snow gauge.

Mmm...icicles...

It's a little strange to be in a town where everyone loves the snow. I hear and read about my city friends dreading the snowfall, and here everyone remarks "5cm today! I hear there's a 64cm base on the mountain! Supposed to snow all week!"...everyone is just thrilled about it. It feels like we're all on the same team.

We met someone while out yesterday who is going to drive to a near by hill and hike to the top in order to ski down. That's how hardcore some of the locals are...willing to walk an hour uphill (with gear!) just to ski down it again.

First snow angel of the season! Why, yes! I am wearing a fabulous pair of insulated coveralls. They will surely make an appearance on the hill at least once this winter...

Not bad!

Here are some other Rossland observations:

Facial Hair: Facial hair (awesome moustache or full beard) is always in style. Even in October, hairy faces were abundant - and not just on the women! Beards are proudly displayed about town, but not in a pretentious hipster way...and never in a well trimmed/stylishly maintained way.

Dress Code: Along with abundant facial hair, Rossland has a distinctive retro-ski vibe dress code. Nordic sweaters (hopefully adorned with wildlife), toques with pompoms, thrift store jackets and classic Sorel's are part of the daily uniform. Plaid is always in style, and hopefully it's paired with a beard or 'stache. I'm looking forward to seeing what appears on the hill this winter! 

Social Clubs: The thrift store continues to be a main event on Wednesdays and Fridays. People are still eagerly lining up...only now while they wait, they're kicking their feet against posts to get snow off their boots. Last week I overheard someone remark that it's more than a thrift store - it's a social club. Even if he doesn't need anything, he still comes buy just to run into everyone he knows. Going to the grocery store at 4 or 5pm has the same effect. Of the few people that we do know in town, we run into them constantly. Some people hate this about small towns, but for now I'm really enjoying it.

Useless Popcorn Machines of the 21st Century: An Exposé

Popcorn is a regular event in our household. It's always been a popular choice in our family, and up until a couple years ago we were using a glorious relic of a popcorn machine circa 1982 -- given as a gift to my parents for their wedding. It was a sad day when that machine was retired, but truthfully I looked forward to seeing what innovations in air popping had been developed over the past 25 years.

Answer: None. 


In fact, it seems like they've gone backwards in development. I miss the old machine like you wouldn't believe, and since it's death we've used three different popcorn machines - all will the same sub-standard results. To prove to you the riduclousness of these new machines I offer you the following photo documentation:

The cast of characters: Machine, bowl, popcorn, butter, salt. Exactly what you would expect to need for some quality air-popped popcorn.

One measures the popcorn, puts it in the machine and turns on the device.

Look! The first kernel arrives!

Six minutes later, this is the result of unsupervised popping. 

Scientific explanation: The machine is not tall enough, and it sends hot kernels of corn flying out of the machine to explode in mid air, or worse, upon impact with the rest it's popped friends in the bowl, sending them flying everywhere. Popcorn kernels hit the roof, and also fly to the other side of our kitchen, much to the delight of onlookers.


But wait, there's more!


This is not the worst of it, my friends. At the bottom of the unassuming bowl of popcorn, lies dozens of unpopped kernels, the unfortunate result of being expelled prematurely! 


Here is Part 2:

The additional cast of characters: Another bowl, tea towel, responsible supervisory hands.

Remove all the popped corn from the first bowl, and put in the second bowl.

Look at all these unpopped kernels!

Dump the unpopped kernals back in the machine for round two.

Turn machine on. Carefully hold tea towel to contain the rebellious kernels and prevent your kitchen from turning into a disaster, while at the same time not covering the machine vents, which will overheat the machine and/or melt the plastic cover.

These rogue beasts escaped! Even with supervision, death threats, and a tea towel!

Four minutes later: check out all this popcorn that would have been thrown out if there was no round two!

I am happy because I have a massive bowl of popcorn. But on the inside, I am sad because it required much more work than should be necessary.

And that my friends, is what happens here five nights a week. This explains why 80% of what we sweep off the kitchen floor is popcorn related. It does not explain why it appears that NO ONE ACTUALLY TESTS THE MACHINES. Surely,having a kitchen covered in popcorn is not the peak of 21st century innovation, especially considering this machines were bested by a 1982 model. 


This exposé is completely endorsed by Roxanne and is a serious situation that could be affecting hundreds or thousands of other families world-wide. The time for change is now, my friends. Demand better popping machines!

Scooby and the Gang Solve A Mystery

We've been moved in to our new house for two weeks now, and occasionally we've noticed a very odd smell. We explored all the usual suspects of cupboards and fridge to see where it was coming from, and kept coming up with inconclusive results. This past weekend my dad came to visit, and in between fixing everything broken in house, we brainstormed possible sources of the disgusting, but not overpowering, smell:

1. Dead creature in the chimney
2. Dead creature in the attic
3. Something coming up through the floor vents
4. Dead creature in the walls

As you can see, the results definitely favoured something dead, and I know you're now all very excited to scroll down and see the rotting, skeletal remains!

We checked the chimney and came up empty handed. The floor vents were also not the problem. We lacked a ladder to get into the attic, and we certainly weren't at the point of smashing through the walls.

Then, in a moment of epiphany, my father figured it out: Mold in the refrigerator drip tray. A quick gag-inducing sniff test conducted by myself and Garth proved that this was indeed the source of the putrid stench. Although hilarity did not ensue, an exciting afternoon followed:

Yes, this is most definitely the source of the problem. Unfortunately, we have to tip the fridge over to remove the tray.

Emptied fridge contents. Good thing we've only been here a couple weeks!

Empty, tipped over fridge.

The culprit! So, so disgusting. And no, this picture does not adequately show that.

Roxanne looks (and is) disgusted.

How many cleaning products can we use! Nothing is working well enough! Arrghh!

Garth proves his manhood by cleaning the horrible, horrible drip tray.

So the day was saved and we can now happily have guests over without feeling the need to explain that we are aware of the smell and have no idea what it is. If you didn't find amusement in our afternoon, at least you now have a concise list of odour-inducing household problems for future reference!

First Day On the Slopes!....Hiking.

In has snowed in Rossland for the first time this season! It has also all melted. To celebrate the one-sunny-day-a-week that Rossland is privy to, Roxanne and I hiked up Red Mountain. It was a hike suggested to us by our awesome Aussie landlords, so we weren't quite sure what to expect!

Is this the trail? I don't know...let's follow it and find out.

Aggressive bears? Oh my!

A fort in the woods? Perhaps this will protect us from the bears. Sadly, the ferry was not running.

A view of the mountains!

A view of Rossland. It looks tiny from this view, but believe me, the town is tiny even when you're there. You can't see our house...but almost.

Reached the top! Climbed the sign! Hopefully next time I'll see it, my head will be standing level with the names...and I doubt I'll be on my way to War Eagle.

A view of Granite Mountain. Cold and relatively snowless.

Lonely chair lifts, waiting to be ridden.

The part where it says "YOU ARE HERE"? Yeah, we were there!

Activities of the Unemployed Ski Bum: Baking!

As unemployed ski bums with no place to ski, we've been doing our best to keep busy. We all joined the gym, and last week Roxanne and I had a day of baking. She made bread and I made cinnimon buns. Between the two of us, the kitchen was a disaster (flour everywhere!) but the results were delicious.

After much experimentation, I discovered that the vodka bottle works best as a rolling pin when you drink half of it first.

Roxanne's finished product...a couple of loaves and some muffin-tin buns.

Carmel cinnamon rolls. Spirals of heaven in a pan. The most delicious part is the concoction of butter and brown sugar that lines the bottom of the pan...essentially deep-frying the dough as it bakes in the oven. It's my mom's recipe and the best cinnamon buns I've ever tasted. They're probably the best cinnamon buns in the world, and I'm sure you'd think so too... unless you're an icing person...in which case, you have bigger problems to worry about.

The flip side of the cinnamon rolls. Delectably sticky caramel sauce drips down the spiral. This is the first of two delicious hot-out-of-the-oven rolls that I had for supper...the night before I bought a gym pass to avoid turning into a cinna-blob before ski season.

A Tour of the Party Palace

We are firmly settled into our new digs in a super secret and awesome location in Rossland. We are one block from the main street, meaning we're one block from everything and a mere stone's throw from the thrift store. There's a view of the [currently snowless] ski hill out the window and we're all pretty thrilled about our super sexy (and fully furnished!) three bedroom bungalow. 

The only amenity that's a couple blocks away is the pub. However, this trek is nearly all uphill, and with the right amount of planning I figure we can toboggan most of the way home in the winter. This hill-of-post-bar-possibilities is right out front of the house and is host to the Rossland Winter Carnival bobsled race...a special event where the locals race modified skidoos, canoes, and home-welded contraptions down a freshly iced road. Here is a video of one of the competitions. 

My favourite parts of the house:

The stylish and recently renovated washroom. Normally Roxanne bathes with her clothes off - a treat she refused to demonstrate for this photo.
 

A wood stove in the basement heats the house. Perfect place to wax skis, store gear, and make on-demand s'mores. There are also baseboard heaters in most of the rooms. In Rossland, it doesn't seem to get cold enough to necessitate a furnace. A quick look at wikipedia shows Rossland's record January low to be -25°C...which beats the hell out of Edmonton's January low of -44°C. I remember spending one ice cold December evening in Edmonton's -48°C last year and I'm thrilled to know that won't even be possible in this town!

Our only fridge magnet.

Our six-person dining room table allows for two to eat at opposite ends like high-class royalty, or at the very least dine so we don't have to talk/look at each other. Perfect for early mornings and/or family feuds!

Spacious and well-stocked kitchen for all our culinary desires.

A well constructed box by the front door to store blankets and winter gear. Cushioned top is perfect for resting on while putting on shoes. Also functions as our guest room.

The food network. Conveniently viewable from the island in the kitchen, fulfilling my guilty luxury of preparing food with my friends Nigella, Giada, Bobby, Gordon, and Jamie.