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03/06/05 |
     
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Ok, writing a blog in and of itself is a slightly narcissitic undertaking. I mean, without prompting, you are laying out details (very often boring or mundane) about your daily life with the expectation that your friends, and random web travelers, have nothing better to do than read it. With that being said, let me assure you, that I expect no one to read all my updates, nor was that my intention of writing this. Let me explain: Many of my friends would like to know what I'm doing half way across the country (since I recently left most of them in Florida to pursue an adventurous career that starts in North Dakota). I talk with these friends with varying frequencies, and instead of boring them in unorganized emails, I decided to let them bore themselves on their own time by reading this blog. On a personal note, even if no reads an entry (or even the whole thing), it is still pretty theruaputic for me. Writing updates allows me to be reflective, gives me a broader outlook on what I'm doing and where my life is going, and provides a potential service to my friends. With that being said, I'll start by saying most of this blog will be general updates about what's going on in my life. There might be a political/theological/philosophical rant every now and then, but that's not the point of this blog so I'll try to keep it to a minimum. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading! My Update -- The "big picture" of what my life looks like. 8/10/04 -- My first week of training in Houston 8/16/04 -- Tulsa and driving school 8/20/04 -- My trip from Houston to Williston 8/21/04 -- More road trip 8/22/04 -- FARGO!! READ THIS! 8/23/04 -- My coworkers 8/25/04 -- My first well! 8/29/04 -- Church, first experience 8/31/04 -- On to Montana
So far I've written most of these updates offline, while I'm in a logging truck at a wellsite in the middle of the night. Most of these individual stories don't give a good idea of what my life actually looks like on the whole up here in ND. So that's what I'm doing now. I work 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. At least that's when I'm on call. (Don't worry, once I'm promoted in late January, I'll be on call for 2 weeks, then have 1 week off, so we have lots of vacation time.) Different drilling companies will call Schlumberger and need to know information about the well, we doing this in the form of dropping tools down the hole and printing out the data. This process is called "logging". If there are no jobs that day, the hours are really flexible and I generally show up to the shop around 8:30 and leave around 6:00. I study a lot at the shop (there's tons of tests and certifications that you're constantly taking with Schlumberger -- for example, I'm about to leave for Scotland for 3 months to attend a school on logging), or calibrate the tools. The tools are extremely expensive, high tech, and all of that stuff -- many contain explosives or radioactive sources, THEY'RE GREAT! When there's a job, a small crew of engineers leaves for the well, which could be 40 to 600 miles away! We get there, usually wait a couple of hours while the drilling crew prepares the rig for us, and then log the well, which can take between 4 and 12 hours if everything goes right. It rarely does :) I've already spent up to 30 hours on 1 job, and over 40 when we had back-to-back jobs (which happens about every other week). While we're at the wellsite, unless there's an known amount of downtime, we stay the duration of the job. That means if you have a couple of hours to sleep, which you might not have, you sleep in the vehicles. It also means that you miss a lot of meals, and you bring tons of "snacks" from gas stations to seve as your food while you're on the job. It really is a 24 hour life-style, and the oilfield is an *entire* sub-culture unto itself. You can meet millionares working alongside dirt-poor rig hands knee-deep in mud and oil, and not be able to tell the difference between them. My "office clothes" are t-shirts and jeans. Often I don't need to brush my hair or shave -- it's a lot like my dad's carpet crew that I grew up working on.
8/10/04 First week in Houston: Didn’t get to do much in the city because training was from 7:00 till 5:30 everyday, with homework assignments. Did the normal job orientation: Company history, current strategy, drug tests, etc. I did learn that Schlumberger has the largest privately owned intranet network in the world (2nd only to the US Military). It’s crazy how much technology goes into pumping oil. I met some cool friends though, including Reeza, Randall, and Chris – 3 Trinidadians that I hung out with all week. They were hilarious and had a great sense of humor. On a side note, if you ever want to insult someone from Trinidad confuse them with a Jamaican. I also found out that my 12 week training school will be in Scotland! They may take our passport, but they’re never take our FREEEEEEDOMMMMMMM!!!
8/16/04 Second week in Tulsa: Ok, a little more fun this week. I attended a driving school! Ok, so half of my day was spent in lectures, and the days did get longer, with training lasting from 6:00 am till 6:30 pm. But the fun part was driving vehicles through slaloms, into ditches, on a skid-pad (representing 80% black ice), and a truck that was remote controlled to have the back tires kick out while you were driving it! I will go out on a limb and say that taking the minivans through the slaloms had to be the most intense. Out instructor was an amazing driver, which was cool as well. I did get to play basketball at a local YMCA a couple of times. The second day we had a full 5-on-5, with people in their 20s except for 2 young teenagers. I only mention this because one of the teenagers, looked to be 14, maybe 5’8’’ and weighing 130 was the best player on the court hands down. He was amazing. The other team had their two bests players (both 20 something and 6’2’’) double teaming this kid. It was pretty fun to watch, wish I got an autograph.
8/20/04 Weekend drive from Houston, Texas to Williston, ND. So I start out in Houston on 1:00 Friday, August 20th. I got lost on their very confusing but efficient free-way system immediately leaving the airport. Population: High Temperature: 100 F Next place of note was Dallas (go Mark Cuban!), about 3 hours later. I had to drive through the heart of downtown, which was one of the better looking downtowns I’ve ever seen. Again there was massive traffic, and I got to a wreck before the ambulance gor there. Everyone looked ok, despite the small river of blood on the road. Also heard a cool song by the Judds on the radio: “I know where I’m going”. Population: High Temperature: 98 F Then I left civilization. Onward to OOOOOOOklahoma! I stayed the night at the Thunderbird Lodge and decided that saving $10 on a motel in a strange rural community isn’t a wise decision. Norman (home of Univ of Okloahoma) reminded me a lot of Gainesville however. Population: Temperature: 82
Next I came through Kansas, and for those of you who thought Oklahoma was exciting…you were wrong, but it does beat Kansas. One small gripe though: How come I had to pay $8.00 in tolls on a federal interstate? Between these tolls and my income taxes, and judging by the number of people on the roadway, I estimate that I have single-handedly paid for 50% of the Kansas interstate system. Drove through Wichita and Lawrence, which had the nicest houses that I’ve seen to date on my road trip. It was cloudy all through the state. Population: Temperature: 72
After a brief trump through Missouri, which had the most mountainous terrain of the states so far, and an extremely helpful/cheerful gas station attendant, I came to Iowa. Corn, corn, and a restaurant named China Taste is what I remembered most. Again there were very few people on the freeway, and fewer towns. I had a conversation with one of the workers at China Taste who’s been living in Sioux Falls for 14 years about the winters I should be expecting. I then traveled onto Sioux City. While there I tried to ascertain the native Indian tribe indigenous to that region but failed. I stayed the night in a small town, but at a national motel chain. It didn’t help very much as all I had nightmares about the filming of Children of the Corn. Population: Temperature: 66
Finally! My (new) home state! I arrive in North Dakota. My first stop was at the world famous Fargo. To prepare myself for such an encounter I rented the movie that shares the name. In case you’re unfamiliar with this movie, it’s a dark comedy that involves kidnapping and murder, along with some of the most hilarious accents in America. FARGO Well, I nearly run out of gas trying to get to Fargo and fill up at a Flying J travel plaza. It’s unbelievably crowded, and I’m the only person in about 30 at the pumps that has shorts on. After filling up, I decide to “fill up”. Inside the Flying J Travel Plaza there is a Country Buffet! What could be more convenient, or give me a better cultural experience I ask you? If you answer “nothing”, YOU ARE RIGHT!
Being, in my humble opinion, an accomplished buffet eater, I get in a few minutes before noon, and pay the breakfast price, but wait while they change over for lunch (thank you Gator Corner Dining – continuing to influence my life for the better). The hostess asked, “Smoking or Living?” After answering non-smoking, she leads me to the back ¼ of the restaurant through what appears to be the Fargo fire-fighters training grounds. All I can do is mumble something about supply and demand and take my seat. I quickly get some hash browns and a couple of pieces of uncooked bacon to snack on.
At my both, I notice that the Flying J Travel Plaza
Country Buffet stops at no limits in measures of convenience – there is a
pay phone attached to every both in the “restaurant”. Well, it takes longer than I anticipated for the lunch entrees to make their way to the buffet, so once they start out, I head over to the line. To my surprise the other patrons, who are likewise waiting for the lunch edibles, wait patiently at their tables. Once at the buffet I understand why – though the food is out there is no plates. Dejected, I return to my seat and hear mumbles of “amateur” from the more patient, and apparently more experienced, buffet coinsurer’s.
Sorry for interrupting this story. But it’s almost 1:00 am in central Montana (outside a town called Winifred, try and find that on a map), and I’m the only one on the crew awake, cause we’re waiting for the rig to allow us to log the well. And I’m just impressed with how awesome God is. Just wanted to give that little praise “shout out” to Him. Amen!
A few moments later, I see the arrival of the plates. Wanting to make a good impression on my fellow North Dakatoans after my embarrassing premature buffet entry, I rush to the plates, pick one up and start to make my selection. Only then do I realize that there is no serving utensils. In a blatant effort to save face, I put on some salad and return to my seat. Where before the patrons thought my buffet etiquette laughable, now they look genuinely disappointed, and quickly avert there eyes when I look there way. My salad fooled no one. NO ONE.
Well, at this point I see a man walk in. Not just any man. He’s 6’3’’, about 240, wearing a silk shirt, jeans, and has slightly curly jet black shiny hair that runs past his ears to his chin. He has “professional amateur bowler” written all over. The only thing going through my head were the murder scenes in Fargo, along with the general ineptitude of the homicide detectives. He sits at the booth in front of me, and our eyes meet. For the first time in my adult life, I was afraid. I was very afraid.
I patiently await the arrival of the utensils as the Fargo city bowler champion notices the pay phones and make a phone call. At this time I see the arrival of the serving utensils, but paralyzed with the fear of my two previous failures, I remain motionless. The head buffet chef finally sets the soup spoon in the “Wisconsin Cheese” bowl, and it had the effect of the proverbial “dinner triangle”, and I see the masses make there way instantly to the feed bag. At this time I see the scary man (aka Fargo Bowler Champion) make his way to the line, and I notice a pink comb in his back pocket. A thick, 4 inch, 12 bristles, pink comb with yellow tips. I quickly found the nearest emergency exits.
Like the runt coyote in a pack that has just made a fresh kill – I must wait till the rest of the pride takes the choice selects from the buffet until I rise and go to the line. I pick my plate of fried chicken, potatoes au grautin, the green beans with the white pasty wax on them, and some sort of “fish”. I could finish none of my items. But knowing full well that I will be charged one fixed amount, regardless of what I do or do not eat, I return to the buffet, for we all know that there is no more shameful thing than a buffet customer that makes no second trip. I go straight for the desert section: A mixture of pudding’s that have no label. Having made the mistake of confusing banana (yick!) with vanilla before in a similar situation, I stick with the tried and trued chocolate. After swirling around the thick layer of crust, I get the choice select pudding from the bottom and return. Knowing that I was running a risk of further embarrassment if anyone saw the “one-item” trip to the buffet that I just made – for we all know that it just isn’t worth it to make a walk to the food if only to get one item, for surely there was enough room on your previous plate for the one additional item.
As I walk back to my booth my eyes met the serial killer bowler. He looks at my plate. I wet myself. He nods approvingly. I take my seat with an audible sigh of relief.
I quickly got my bill and power walked to the cash register. How much would one expect to pay for this fanfare? Not only the atmospheric quality of seeing actual North Dakotaians, the unrivalired convience of a buffet inside a gas station, the ability to have pork, chicken, and imitation fish all in one setting, but also the coming of age as I face down my fears and make the trips to the buffet line by MYSELF? Twenty dollars you say? Fifteen? Try $8.59, tax included! As I pay I take one last look at my new brethren and sistern. Besides being impressed with the general obesiety, I notice that jean jackets never went out of style in Fargo. Without hesitation I get into my car, play born in the USA, and take off.
I take the rest of the day to travel lengthwise the state, and arrive at MY NEW HOME, WILLISTION NORTH DAKOTA! I pull into my temporary living situation, The El Rancho Motel for a much needed rest and prayer session.
Population: 600,000 Temp: 56
That’s right, through one weekend I dropped over 15 million people and 43 degrees! Little did I know that my journey has not reached its end yet.
The next morning I start work. I’ll give you a brief description of the coworkers that I’ve spent the most time with: Omar, a guy that I already have a lot of respect for. He swam the backstroke for Auburn, and has a couple NCAA championships from that sport. He’s the engineer that I shadow and we get along really well, especially knowing similar things about the SEC. He’s incredibly humble, and if anyone knows Shema Freeman, they share a lot of the same personality and mannerisms. Armando, a brazilian that’s about 5’7’’, but has the coolest laugh none to man. He’s always smiling, and laughs like a pirate. It’s so loud that it’s humorous, and has that “karr” quality to it. On print the closet description would be: hehehahaHARHARHAR! He’s one of the funniest people that I’ve met. One of the operators (there’s engineers and operators in the field) is Bear. That’s right, just like in Armageddon. And Bear is a good size man, but I instantly noticed how quick and agile he was. I come to find out that he started as a freshman for the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers as defensive tackle. He also has a national championship ring. Allen is another engineer, graduate of Purdue university. He is very similar to Phil Graham for those of you who know Phil. He’s also an extremely capable engineer. He, Omar, and Armando have been extremely helpful. Ralph is a 62 year old operator. I originally felt sorry for him when I saw him, because this job involves a lot of manual labor, heavy lifting, long hours (I have already worked all through the night and the entire next day 6 times in 3 weeks). Well, I blinked in surprise as he jumped into our heavy duty pickup truck, and last the entire night doing back to back jobs without sleeping. He drives a VW beetle turbo, and claims it gets 35 MPG at 110 MPH. He’s also worked as a prison guard and train switchman, and rides his motorcycle cross country and has a wife that appears to be in her mid fourties. There are many others, Josh, George, Kasen, Jim, Bob, Mark, but nothing in their descriptions “jumps out”.
My first well! It was a huge “3 piper”, which means that it is capable of pulling up 3 stacks of 30 feet pipes (90 feet total) simultaneously. It was washed and painted, and 10,000 feet deep. It was great just to see and work on an actual rig after 3 weeks of hearing about it. We started at midnight and ended up finishing around 10:00 am. To celebrate I bought Yellowcard’s newest CD. It’s HIGHLY recommended, every track is awesome. I also heard one of the singles, Ocean Avenue, later that week at Applebees. The song is about place in Atlantic and Neptune Beach, about a mile from my parent’s house in Jax Beach. So it was a twighlight zone experience being in Williston, ND, and hearing stuff about the very area that you grew up riding bikes through.
I visited a neat church today. It’s great that my boss is really lenient about the weekends (I’m not supposed to have any days off till I “breakout” – sometime in Jan or Feb). It’s and Evangelical Free church, about 70 people. They’re just about to start the Purpose Driven Life. I was instantly recognized as a visitor, and people were really friendly. I was introduced to just about every member who works in the oilfield and people kept on saying, “See, there are Christians in the Oilfield!” One of these men was named Boone! That’s pretty crazy, eh? Unfortunately I didn’t recognize anyone my age there. Though it was cool that the sermon was based on David’s anointing as king, which was what I was reading that very week.
Today I went with Omar and Armando 6 hours west to North Central Montana. We stay in a small town (around 1200 people) called Chinook, which boasts 3 restaurants, 1 motel, no cell phone coverage, and limited internet. There intersections are also 4-way “yields” rather than 4-way “stops”. What started as a 3 day excursion turned into something much longer – it’s 9/11/04 and I’m still here. I’ve been working like crazy out here, and meeting plenty of interesting characters.
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This site was last updated 01/18/05