May 28-29 The Mallard Days, as they say…

During the May 28 staff meeting, it is revealed that the contractors have moved out of the Mallard dorm, but left a mess. Jan and I were to go over there for the remainder of our shift. Also, I was not to do a late shift, but instead report to Mallard at 9 the next day to continue.

We gather cleaning supplies from Goldeneye, then take the paths through the woods. I'm still accustomed to hearing aircraft overhead constantly, so I don't think much when I hear the helicopter. After a few seconds, I remember. The only ones that come here are medivac choppers. Later I learn that it took out someone who was injured in a car accident.

It appears that the contractors felt no obligation to follow Xanterra's housing rules. There are nicotine stains and beer cans everywhere. We start cleaning room by room, but that moves rather slowly. We only make it halfway down one hall. There are three halls to clean, plus the common areas and communal bathrooms. And we have linens to wash. Many, many linens. They're in a giant pile in the lobby.

The rooms are rather warm, especially for this kind of work. We discover that there are no temp controls in the individual rooms, or even in the halls. The entire building operates on the same thermostat. The rooms on the second floor must become stifling.

It seems a waste of energy to have it so warm just for us. The sun has already warmed most of the building anyway. After a bit of searching, we find the key to the thermostat cover. I turn it down to 60.

I drive over the next morning, despite my eco-guilt. The walk over isn't long, but it's cold and there a steady drizzle. Either one on its own would be alright, but I hate a damp chill. Taking the road has its payoff – I spot a coyote in the meadow by the lakeshore.

For the morning, I'm by myself. I don't mind this in a general way, but it's kind of creepy. This part of the Lake Area is almost deserted. It's just me and the maintenance guys, who are removing the protective plywood from the windows. They make the eeriness worse, since they're outside. From inside, all I hear are ominous clunks, and disembodied voices. Knowing what they really are doesn't help.

I switch to more of an assembly line process. First, I prop open all the doors in a hall, while also clearing out trash and abandoned books, clothing, etc. Then I check all of the windows, which are known to malfunction. (They're supposed to slide along on a track, but often get stuck or fall off in your hands.) On the next pass, all the mirrors gets wiped down, then the baseboard heaters & window sills, then the furniture. Finally, all the rooms and the hall get vacuumed. It goes much faster this way.

In one room, I find the beds pushed together. Either some of the contractors were female, or somebody went Brokeback Mountain on us. I'm sure it got very cold and lonely here over the winter.

Every so often, I glance out of the windows. The precipitation constantly shifts in intensity, switches frequently between rain and snow, and there's at least one bout of sleet.

Eventually, I come across the RC rooms. Each has a double bed, but that's where the luxury ends. The primary RC room has an attached bathroom, but it's having problems. For no apparent reason, there's no water in the toilet tank. The sink works, but has a significant faucet drip. The tub is OK, but it's just a tub – there's no shower. All three have major rust stains. Also, a towel rack has fallen off of the wall. Overall, it reminds me of photos of abandoned buildings taken by some urbexers I know online.

The other RC room has no bathroom at all. Also, the mini-blinds are mangled to the point of uselessness. There's a small sofa, presumably as a consolation prize. I think of the fact that my placement is still to be determined. If they try to put me in this dorm, I swear to god I'll drive back to Maryland. Besides having my own crappy quarters, I'd have to deal with a lot of complaints about the disrepair in the rooms. Pelican is a palace in comparison.

After lunch, we have our usual staff meeting. Roberta & I arrived a bit early and waited at the picnic table outside. As we chitchat with a newly arriving chef, we're alarmed to hear gunshots from nearby. We're told by more experienced staffers that it's probably rangers scaring off a bear. During the meeting, I'm relieved to hear that the newly incoming RCs, Trish and Robert, are slated for Mallard.

On the way back to Mallard, I stop by the ranger station to pick up my parking sticker. The interior is way cool, very rustic with a huge fireplace in the middle of the room, huge log beams, and vintage photos of the park. The ranger and I agree that it's be nice if there was a fire in the fireplace. It's gotten quite chilly over the last hour or so.

When I arrive back at Mallard, I'm quite surprised to find someone named Ashley ready to check in. I'm a bit flustered, having been unaware that it was open for business. Some of the rooms are still a bit of a mess, the communal bathrooms haven't been touched, and we have no clean linens. Fortunately, Ashley has brought her own. Also, I hadn't been trained in checking people in yet. Ashley has worked in Yellowstone before, so she tells me what to do.

Next, I discover that there are no keys for the room she's chosen. They turn out to be in the Personnel office, so Jenny brings them. This little drama concluded, we resume cleaning for awhile. About an hour or two later, a guy walks up and says, "Hi, I'm Ross, I'm here to check in." He's been forewarned about the cleaning situation, and the linen shortage. He says he's not fussy, so I find him the cleanest-looking ones I can find from the contractors' pile.

Pam and Josh swing by on their security rounds. We learn that the "gunshots" earlier were actually large firecrackers, set off to scare a bear away from the Pelican Dorm. Yep, the one I'm sitting in right now. This update reminds me to forewarn Ashley and Ross that A) a bear might be close by, and B) they might hear noises that sound like gunshots.

A couple hours after lunch, a white mini-van pulls up outside. Its driver turns out to be the new RC, Trish. She's worked for Xanterra here and at Crater Lake, and has been an RC before. She's not thrilled about being assigned to Mallard. Her first priority is unpacking the van. While she's doing this, the heaviest shower yet falls. It's not a good omen.

May 25 - Training Day

May 25, 2013 Training Day

Today will be my first shift as a Residence Coordinator. It starts at 1 PM. In the afteroon, we do most of the cleaning. Then we're off from 5 till 10. I call this period the Intermission. The rest of the day runs from 10 PM to 2 AM, and consists mostly of night patrol. Quiet hours run from 10 PM to 7 AM, and our goal is to enforce this. Also, we make sure no one has open containers of alcohol in public areas, and that no one under 21 has any alcohol at all.

Since I'm still mentally on Eastern time, and haven't yet adjusted to this shift, I woke up at 7:30. With hours to spare, part of me feels I should be out doing exciting Yellowstone things. Trouble is, it takes about a month to get used to living at this altitude. My breathing is slightly irregular. Every once in awhile, I feel compelled to exhale heavily, and expel whatever air is in my lungs at the time. Presumably, it's gotten stale. My energy level isn't great as a result. So I need to conserve what I have for work, especially today – first impressions being what they are.

Each day starts with a short, informal meeting in the Personnel Office. In theory, this is partly so we can review events of the previous day. So far, things have been quiet, and there have no events needing review. We also discuss things that are scheduled for the upcoming day, which happens to be safety inspections in Goldeneye. This isn't my assigned dorm, but I'm supposed to go along to observe. Also, you're always supposed to have two Personnel staffers on hand anytime you open a resident's door.

Basically what happens is the RC knocks twice while announcing their purpose. If no one is in the room, they use their master key while announcing their entry through the cracked door. If we hear no squeals, we check for fire hazards: furniture or décor closer than 6 inches from the baseboard heater, anything on or within 18 inches of the sprinkler, or anything that heats up that was left plugged in. We also check that everyone uses surge protectors rather than extension cords and make sure the smoke detector battery light is on.

I feel gratified to find the first violation, a heating pad left plugged in. I've established RC cred. We unplug it, and a violation gets taped to the door. If someone is present, we don't leave a note. We just explain that the blankets can't be so close to the heater, or that the coffeemaker has to be unplugged, not just turned off. The problem is, the area is prone to power outages. And devices like these have been known to overload and ignite when power is restored.

 

While we're conducting the inspection, I can't help looking around a bit. I'm surprised at how much stuff some people brought with them. Several have matching comforters & pillow shams, many have microwaves &/or mini-fridges, and one even has one of those shelving units that fit above a toilet tank. That's furniture, not just decor. I suppose if you return for multiple seasons, you want the comforts of home. Goldeneye houses a lot of retirees who come back every year.

Only one floor needs inspection, and I still have half a shift when we're done. I was told to go look for Mark once we're done. He's been an RC for awhile, so it's decided that I should shadow him for a couple of days.

Our first priority is vacuuming, but most of the machines aren't working right. As he puts it, we're vacuum-challenged. Once I get started, I can easily see why. There's no landscaping in Yellowstone, in keeping with the wilderness preserve concept. As a result, the area around the hotel and the dorms is covered mostly in sand and gravel, with some rocks thrown in for variety. You can't help tracking it in. There's quite a lot of noise when the vacuum sucks it up, a symphony of hisses and rattles and pops. It gives me flashbacks of playing with one of these: 

Thank you, mini/eng!

After awhile, something from the safety training session comes back to me. We were told never to sweep up mouse droppings. They can carry hanta virus, which can become airborne if vacuumed. The pattern of the carpet includes small black spots that look exactly like mouse droppings. If you tried, you couldn't come up with better camouflage.

At 10 PM night patrol begins. On a typical evening, this consists mostly of telling people to be quiet. You're not supposed to be able to hear anyone inside a room from about 15 feet away.

The second floor of Pelican houses people under 21, so booze is forbidden there. We're supposed to watch for that, and no one can drink alcohol from an open container in public areas. According to the manual, we should also be prepared to encounter property crime, suicidal residents, sexual assault and/or domestic violence. For major stuff, we call Security &/or the law enforcement rangers (NPS), or if anyone becomes belligerent or threatening.

On occasion, people might just need to talk. Many of them are young, and away from home for the first time.

None of that happens on this night, though. Mostly, Mark & I just sit around BSing. He's from Loudon County, which, like Columbia, is part of the extended Capital Region. We weren't exactly neighbors back home, but fins some mutual favorite places to discuss. So my first night passes eventfully.

May 24 - Settling In

The first thing I learn today – and I learn it very early – is that the blinds in my room are just short of useless. They're too short to reach the windowsill, and don't cover the sides. The window faces east, so the sun blazes in at 5 AM. This awakening occurred after a very restless night. As I'd feared, the non-fitted sheet came loose repeatedly, and the resulting discomfort woke me up repeatedly.

So that makes about 5 hours sleep on top of the altitude troubles. Yellowstone Lake is 7,732 feet above sea level, so the air is pretty thin. To my dismay, I discover that the EDR offers only instant coffee. I've never been one of those Starbucks-obsessed individuals who rattles on in pseudo-Italian, but there are limits. Instant coffee is crap, plain and simple. And it also has almost no caffeine. Basically, I'm a zombie. Amazingly, I manage to make conversation over breakfast.

I don't do so well at Safety Training, though. Mostly what I got out of it was that I should be careful with chemicals, stay away from bears, and don't be mean to anyone. (There was also a harassment segment.) They also mentioned something about pathogens, airborne vs. bloodborne. I'm supposed to not let them fight, or something. The way I felt, not dozing off & hitting my head on the table was an accomplishment.

Afterward, we're given the option to take a van tour of our area from an employee's point of view. We get paid for this, since it's part of orientation. So the tour included not only background about the spiffy hotel (the oldest hotel in the world's first National Park), but where we sign up for free tours and get discounts.

Xanterra sends us on free tours for multiple reasons. One is to keep us happy and reduce turnover. But it's also best for employees to be well-informed, so that we can be useful to the guests. A lot of us don't cross paths with guests as part of our jobs – kitchen staff, maintenance workers, etc. But if we're in view and wearing a uniform, it could happen. Of course, the free tours are on a space-available basis. We're also told that if the piano lounge lobby or lake view porch (with bar) fill up, we should move on. It's only fair, really. We're here for 3 or 4 months, and they're here 3 or 4 days.

On the orientation tour, we learn that the pretty mountains across the lake are the Absorokas. At sunset they get an alpenglow effect. I also learned why the lake is blissfully free of waverunners, waterskiers, and other noisy things. At best, the water temperature reaches 60° F. The average survival time if you fall in is 6 minutes.

The tour also takes us by the marina, the general store, and Fishing Bridge. Contrary to the name, no fishing is allowed here. In 1973, it was discovered that fishing off the bridge hampered the cutthroat trout's spawning efforts. I think they should change the name to Cutthroat Bridge. It's more accurate, and sounds kinda badass.

We also learn that our dorms are in a "high bear management" section. The rivers feeding into the lake are full of trout this time of year, and bears are hungry. Because of this, some areas are off-limits to both tourists and employees. These areas include the path I'd walked along the previous evening. Oops.

Once the tour is over, I have lunch and head for Cody. Wal-Mart may be evil, but I know they'll have sheets I can sleep on. Having seen that coffee makers are allowed, that also goes on my list. Also toothpaste and hand soap.

There's a Costco in Bozeman, but that's farther away. That route would take me through Hayden Valley, which is prone to bison jams. And I already know where the Wal-Mart is. Time is running a bit short, since it's a 2 hour drive each way, and I want to return before dark.

On the way into town, I realize that this route does look a bit familiar after all, from this direction. Still, I'm amazed at what I'd forgotten. Probably it was a combination of sensory overload and being preoccupied with the approaching snow. In any case, it's a beautiful drive.

At Wal-Mart, an impulse purchase finds its way into my cart. There's no radio reception in Yellowstone, but the small boom box I find can be used as speakers for my little MP3 player. They don't have any extra long twin sheets, but I find an extra deep set, in a pleasant shade of avocado green.

As I expected, the sheets don't fit perfectly, but they get the job done. I use the dorm ones to cover the extra bed. I also retrieve my dark gray throw blanket from the car, and hang it over the window. That night, I sleep very, very well.