Writing Wednesday: The Units

Over the few weeks, I’ve been writing an appendix to my book on oil, photography, and archaeology in the Bakken oil patch of North Dakota. The appendix is a brief summary of our work in the Bakken grounded in our publications for a reader who might not be entirely familiar with our work and who might want a more firmer grounding in a traditional archaeological narrative. Here’s part 1 and part 2, and below is the third of three parts.

III.3: The Units

The organization of the camps reflected a complex interplay between camp owners, managers, housing units, infrastructural needs, capital, and residents. These affordances created distinctive spaces that shaped life in the camps themselves. In Type 1 camps, for example, the modular design of the housing units offered a number of standard rooms generally aligned along a hallway. The width of the unit — generally standardized for transportation by rail and by road — dictated the side of the unit. At some camps, a “double wide” arrangement of two units joined together longitudinally created a central, double-loaded corridor illuminated with florescent lights and floored with institutional carpets. In other cases, the modular design allowed for wider public areas for dining or recreation. Capital Lodge near Tioga featured an inflatable quonset-style roof over a large buffet dining room (Caraher and Weber 2017, 62-63). Many of the units had entry areas where workers could take off coats, boots, and other gear and some had locker room style mudrooms where coats hung above boots in open alcoves. The standardized rooms were clean and simple often featuring single beds, small bathrooms, and writing desks affixed to the wall. There was limited space for customization. The exterior area around units featured gravel paths, boot cleaners mounted near most doors, and little else to distinguish one unit from another. The one exception was small hibachi-style grills which stood out against the otherwise bland uniformity. One resident of the Bakken described Type 1 camps as “just the same thing over and over … there’s no community about it. ’Cause you’re in there, it’s like this big system. [laughs] You come in, you eat, they take everything from you, you shower, you’re gone” (Caraher et al. 2020, 300).

At the height of the boom, the main alternative for people moving to the region for work were Type 2 camps. Despite the structure imposed by the arrangement of water, sewage and electrical hooks ups, Type 2 camps showed significant diversity in the individual units. In MC11, for example, residents planted gardens, built raised walkways using shipping pallets, created comfortable and well-appointed outdoor living areas with picnic tables, grills, personalized decorations, and even, in one instance, a dog run (Caraher et al. 2017, 281-283). Small gardens with both flowers and vegetables were not unusual features in the region and they seemed to complement seasonal decorations such as colorful garden flags and holiday decorations for July 4th and at Christmas. The most dramatic intervention in Type 2 camps were the elaborate mudrooms constructed by residents (Caraher et al. 2017, 278-280). These structures leaned against the side of the RV enclosing creating a vestibule outside the door of the unit. The simplest mudrooms featured a shed roof and plywood walls. Some sat directly on the ground, but in other cases, cinderblocks elevated the mudroom floor to the same level as the entrance to the RV. In their simplest form, these features provide additional space to remove work clothes before entering the RV. In their most elaborate expression, however, they expanded the living space of the RV with seating areas and sometimes sleeping areas (see Appendix I, interview with Ryan Miller), provided storage space for tools and appliances, and relieved some of the cramped conditions present in the RVs themselves (for an example see Appendix I interview with Karen Clancy). By 2013, most camps had started to impose more formal restrictions of the size and structure of mudrooms including MC11 (See Appendix I interview with Jennifer Holmes and Angela Lawrence). This resulted in smaller rooms with less adventurous architecture. In the winter, residents often installed skirting around the base of their units to both insulate the unit and the water and sewage lines (Caraher et al. 2017, 276-277). The skirting also created space for secure storage under the unit. Storage appears to have been a problem with some residents building shelving units, others installing prefabricated garden sheds, and others piling equipment, water coolers, empty propane tanks, tires, frames for skirting, and other large objects along the length of their units (Caraher et al. 2017, 280-281). Some units had children play areas outside reminding us that Type 2 camps were more accommodating to children than Type 1 facilities.

Our sample of Type 3 camps was too small to allow any generalizations about the kinds of units. The one Type 3 camp that we documented most carefully reflected a wide array of living circumstances from a single tent on the ground to small “fifth wheel” RV, and a larger travel trailer. The lack of utility hook ups allowed residents to arrange the units in a circle around an open common area where storage, a picnic table, and cooking could take place. The small size of the fifth-wheel RV and the tent made cooking and storage inside those spaces impossible contributing in part to the common area. The presence of portapotties around the edges of the camp likewise reflected the limited facilities in the units. More modest units and lack of hook ups produced common spaces. This arrangement had social implications: an older resident of the camp living in a tent had been struggling to find work and recently diagnosed as a diabetic. The camaraderie of the camp kept his spirits up and looked after him.