Hello Whitewater blog readers and the new season of excavation. I am thrilled to be returning again this year as a volunteer. Adrian and I have been at Wasagaming (the village at the Riding Mountain National Park entrance) since Monday, doing a host of preparatory work before today’s official start. The Season Three “command center” is a comfortable, if Spartan, summer cabin on the imaginatively named Misty Lane. With the cottonwoods erupting furiously it is presently, however, more snowdrift looking than misty.
Record-setting rain this Spring is evident at the former PoW camp site: the grass is a foot or more higher and the 2010 test units beside the pond are submerged. Also, we are told by those who know that while the mosquitoes are certainly more abundant (and I would never have thought this possible) the ticks are fewer. An interesting trade off, and stay tuned on the outcome, but I suspect it is more like getting death by firing squad rather than by hanging.
Despite the effects of last month’s weather the site is now drenched in sun and the ten kilometre road we cycle is, for now, strangely free of last year’s wearisome mud. Laden with gear and joined by Suyoko Tsukamoto and Phil Innes of Brandon University we rode through swarms of dragonflies and a thousand billion gnats, flies, and mosquitoes that happened across the road. The random intersection left bugs bouncing off my forehead and one that managed to do a cannonball in my eye.
With everyone eager and happy, the first two excavation units were begun. They are located at the camp’s “official” dump site (the “unofficial” dump sites will be excavated later this season – see the Project Research Design for more information) located 500 meters to the northeast of the main camp area. Happily, my first task was not out of my purview of knowledge at all: yard work. With a weed eater I carved a small oasis in the tall grass while the others laid out gear and meticulously plotted the units. 32K2C and D are situated beside test units that last year revealed rich deposits of historical material culture. For the next six hours we worked under intense sun, alternately hunched over a unit, trowel in hand, or working a ¼ mesh screen, as though ancient winnowers. It was not glamorous, and it was not high tech, but it was still spectacularly fun.
Adrian and Phil worked together while the ill-fated Suyoko was my teacher for the day. Predictably, I did all the things newbies do: plunging the trowel downward, muscling artefacts from their place, calling rocks bones and bones rocks, obsessing to go down further, convinced that the real treasure is just under the next centimetre. And so on. The virtue of Suyoko’s patience – and her occasional “NO!” – eventually schooled me in three vital areas which, admittedly, are not innately mine: to be tender with delicate things, to observe more than conjecture, and for God’s sake, to go slow.
By 6:30 pm Suyoko and I had three quadrants of one unit dug to 30cm deep, and bagged what looks to me like a thousand artefacts of bone, teeth, remains of cans, enamel, pottery, nails, foil, eggshell, bottle caps, buttons, and whatnots. A great beginning! But then I do the math: if a thousand artefacts are extracted every day, my son Adrian could well be doing his lab work long after I become an artefact myself.
Paul Myers

Excavating at 32K2