The first six weeks at Lyford were on the slower side, with a full house only on the weekends. Since February hit, that has changed, and we will remain busy every day for the remainder of the month.
I’m glad to be out of that negative degree weather. After three weeks of negative twenty, anything above ten degrees feels like Springtime. If it’s twenty degrees and I’m hauling wood, I’m probably in a sweatshirt. Living this far north in Maine thickens the blood, makes me tougher.
I am constantly dressed for the outdoors, always wearing a base layer, wool or fleece sweater, and a down wind proof jacket on top. Wool socks and thick boots on my feet, and when there is deep fresh powder, my bib snow-pants. There is not much point in changing into indoor clothes, because the separation between inside and outside is thin. I am rarely inside for long, constantly heading outside to replenish firewood, visit the compost toilet, clean the guests’ cabins, start their fires, take out the trash, etc.
Part of my day is spent maintaining several wood stoves at once. Safe to say I’m getting pretty good at starting a fire – four pieces of newspaper, four pieces of kindling, and one match ought to do it. The rest is all about proper oxygen flow and placement of the logs, that when done enough times, becomes a kind of game in competition with myself to build the best log structure.
I’m pretty used to the cold at this point. It’s not on the forefront of my mind as the past couple weeks have been ridden with power issues. Last week our generator and backup generator both failed, and we were running off these rechargeable batteries that provided very minimal energy. The power was going out multiple times a day, which affected mostly the kitchen. We cooked and prepared food in headlamps. The dishwasher could only run in short spurts of time, and often the batteries would die in the middle of a run. The other thing we’ve been dealing with, since the recent thaw, is minerals in the pipes leaching into the water, causing it to smell like sulfur, or as one guest so kindly put it, “dog shit.” The water has been tested and is perfectly safe to drink. We probably need a new filter, but given we are so far out in the woods, it takes a while for materials to get to us.
Life is slower here in the 100 mile wilderness of Maine.
Most of the guests have been good about the power issues and sulfuric water, but there have been a few stinkers. I try not to focus on the bad eggs, given the majority of my experience at Lyford has been so positive, and I need to recognize my luck. For most of our guests, Lyford is a short vacation from their city/office jobs, but for me, this is life.
This is a job that teaches me to fight entitlement. Both in myself and society. Nature is unpredictable – beautiful and generous, or ugly and ruthless. We have to take her as she comes. Heat doesn’t come at the press of a button, we have to work for it. We plan, only to have the plan fall through the floor when something unpredictable happens. It’s important, when living at Lyford, to respond well and adapt accordingly as plans are constantly changing. And to a certain point, no one is special. Not even guests. We try our hardest, but when the water smells like sulfur because of natural occurrences, everyone has to deal with it. We can’t go to the store and pick up bottled water for every guest in a jiffy. That many snow mobile runs would take hours and hours of the staff’s time and energy, increase risk of health and safety, and take a major toll on our snowmobiles, which seem to need constant repairs as it is.
I’m lucky to have coworkers that remain so spirited and humorous as we deal with the ups and downs. When will everything worrrrrk???!!! is a question we groan in jest, knowing there will never be a day when everything works just perfect and dandy. Not during Winter in the 100 Mile Wilderness.
***These opinions are my own and do not represent the opinions of AMC***