Beyond the Training Room: A Day at Copper Mountain

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Tuesday, 9/29/26 was one of those days that reminded me why I love the work I get to do.

A huge thank you to Jeff Zmurchyk, CRSP and the team at Hudbay Minerals Inc. ’s Copper Mountain site in Princeton, British Columbia, for inviting me out to be part of a full day of training, conversation, connection, and experience with members of their safety team.

The trip started with a flight to Vancouver. I fly frequently, so getting on another airplane wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. What was different was that I had never been to British Columbia. In fact, I had never been to Canada. So already, the trip was off to a pretty great start.

After landing in Vancouver, I picked up a rental car and started the roughly three-hour drive toward Princeton. I expected the drive to be pretty uneventful.

Oh man, was I wrong.

Once I got into the foothills and started climbing into the mountains, the entire landscape changed. I suddenly found myself driving through this massive Canadian mountain-scape that required me to repeatedly pick my jaw up off the floorboard of the Prius I had rented.

The mountains rose quickly and dramatically, thousands of feet above the valley floor. There were waterfalls pouring down rock faces and pine trees so dense I genuinely questioned whether a person could even walk through parts of the forest.

Let’s just say there were several points where I needed to “pull over” and grab a few pictures. We’ll just ignore the yellow paint line being near the middle of the frame.

The road itself was smooth as butter, climbing through the valleys and mountain passes, and naturally my brain went straight to bicycles. I kept imagining what it would be like to ride through there under my own power.

That wasn’t the reason for this trip, but I will be back to ride that pass at some point. Mark my words. I already know exactly which riding partner would enjoy both the views and the suffering with me.

That is another story waiting to happen.

For the next couple of hours, it felt like every turn revealed another view that was somehow better than the one before it. I was completely caught off guard, in the best possible way. I’m pretty sure I bruised my chin from dropping my jaw so many times.

When I finally arrived in Princeton, I was immediately reminded of some of the small towns I grew up around in California. There was a distinct little downtown that felt like the heart of the community. The landscape and climate were obviously different, but the small-town feel was familiar.

I checked into my hotel and immediately looked for somewhere to eat. My first flight had left at 6:00 that morning, so by that point I was ready for food and a little downtime. I picked a restaurant a few blocks away so I could walk, stretch my legs, and take in a little more of the town.

I also walked over to a coffee shop that I knew was already closed because I wanted to make sure I knew exactly where my morning latte was coming from. I mean, I am not wandering aimless, I have priorities.

With the hotel room locked in, my belly full, and my morning coffee location confirmed, all I had left to do was relax, review my presentation notes briefly, and get some much-needed sleep.

The next morning started around 6:00 a.m., which honestly feels like sleeping in for me these days. Between work, travel, and putting miles in on my bicycle, early mornings are pretty normal.

It gave me plenty of time to get ready, say a few affirmations in the mirror about how the day was going to go, and arrive at the coffee shop about five minutes before they flipped on the open sign.

One of the things I regularly tell myself before I walk into a presentation is some version of, “I am confident. I am engaging. I am here to give.” That is the mindset I carry with me every time I present.

Latte in hand, I headed toward the Copper Mountain site.

The drive from Princeton gave me about 20 minutes to settle into the mindset I wanted for the day. I was going there to talk about mental health, psychological safety, communication, and connection, and I wanted to show up fully.

Before I ever shook hands with Jeff or walked into the training room, I got my first taste of the culture at the site.

The woman working the gatehouse was one of the most positive people I had talked to in a while. When she asked what I was there for, I told her I was presenting on psychological safety and communication. Her response was basically, “Man, I want to be part of that. That sounds awesome.”

That might not be a direct quote, but that was absolutely the energy.

Another Hudbay Minerals Inc. employee then offered to escort me through the mine to the administration building so I wouldn’t get turned around. If you’ve never been on an active mine site, the landscape is constantly changing. Roads move. Work areas shift. Blasting changes access. Even if you had been there before, there is no guarantee you could retrace your steps.

After another ten minutes or so of following my escort and carefully respecting the site speed limits, I made it to the administration building. I was walked all the way to Jeff’s office with a smile and a genuine desire to help.

Before the training had even started, I had already learned something about the people there.

Training kicked off promptly at 8:15, which gave me a little time beforehand to sit back and take in the room. It was a mix of ages, ethnicities, roles, experience levels, and backgrounds, but one thing was obvious very quickly. They cared deeply about their people.

I also had the opportunity to learn more about Canada’s National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, which was taking place the following day, and about the history and impact of residential schools on Indigenous peoples. That felt especially relevant to the conversations we were about to have around treatment, belonging, trust, and whether people feel safe enough to speak up.

Then we got into the presentation, and this group leaned in.

You never really know what an audience is going to be like. Our brains are incredibly good at writing stories ahead of time about how people might react. They aren’t going to like this part. They might think this exercise is weird. They’re probably going to roll their eyes at that.

Whatever stories my brain might have been tempted to create were quickly proven wrong. They participated. They laughed. They reflected. They shared. They asked questions. They engaged. And they did it around a topic that can get pretty heavy.

Mental health and well-being have serious undertones and serious consequences, and I think one of the challenges in presenting on them is finding a way to make the experience meaningful without making the whole room feel like it just got emotionally steamrolled.

I want these conversations to matter, but I also want them to be energy giving. I want people to leave feeling like they learned something, connected with each other, and walked away with tools they can actually use.

Throughout the morning, during exercises, during the break, and afterward, people came up to me to share what had resonated and how much they appreciated the tools and conversations we had worked through.

That stuff fuels me. It is one of those reminders that I am doing exactly the work I want to be doing with exactly the people I want to be doing it with.

Then came lunch, and who doesn’t get excited about food? But what happened after lunch might have been my favorite part of the day.

We split into five groups of five or six people and were assigned different parts of the mine to visit. The idea was simple. Take the communication skills we had just talked about and go use them. Not with executives or the people sitting in the training room. With the people doing the work.

We were going out to talk with the boots on the ground, build stronger connections, ask better questions, really listen, and learn from their perspective what Hudbay could continue doing or improve to make the day-to-day work experience better.

Yes, this included physical safety, but now the teams were also carrying additional tools around communication, connection, mental health, and psychological safety.

The point wasn’t just to ask whether people were safe. It was to create the kind of conversation where someone might actually feel safe enough to tell you what you need to know.

My heart was full.

Hudbay had cared enough to bring me all the way out to their site to have these conversations, but what stood out even more was that going into the field and talking directly with their people wasn’t something they created just for my visit.

They already do this regularly. Now they simply had more tools to go a little deeper. Better questions. More curiosity. More listening. More opportunities to uncover the things that might otherwise stay hidden. Because how else are we supposed to know what our people need if we aren’t hearing it directly from them?

If the day had ended there, I would have called it a 10 out of 10.

It didn’t.

At one point, we were all told to head to a safe vantage point overlooking the mine because they were getting ready to blast in the pit. I had never seen anything quite like it. The amount of energy released in a mine blast is something you have to witness in person.

Of course I recorded it, but I made sure the camera was pointed in the right direction and then watched the actual blast with my own eyes instead of staring at my phone screen. Some things deserve to be experienced that way.

The whole site had that effect on me. Every time I visit a mine, I am still in awe of the scale of everything. The trucks. The equipment. The mill. The tumblers. The roads. The size of the operation.

At some point during the day, something dawned on me. A mine site like Copper Mountain really is its own city or community.

There are so many people responsible for making sure their piece of this enormous operation keeps working properly, safely, and productively. And when you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense why communication, trust, and connection matter so much.

By the end of the day, my internal battery was completely full. Not because the day was easy, but because it was meaningful.

I am incredibly grateful to Jeff and the Hudbay team for inviting me into their world and trusting me to share some of what I know about mental health, psychological safety, communication, and connection.

The travel was long. It basically took a full day on either side of the experience. Now, if you asked if I would I take them up on an offer to come back and do it again?

In a heartbeat.

Thank you, Jeff. Thank you to everyone at Copper Mountain who welcomed me, participated, shared, challenged ideas, showed me around, and demonstrated what it looks like when an organization is willing to invest in better conversations with its people.

And thank you, Hudbay Minerals Inc. and the Copper Mountain Mine site, for going full send on the experience.

You set the bar pretty high.