In Labrador City there is a lack of trees (they take a long time to mature), a paucity of gardens (the growing season is too short) and a multiplicity of snowmobiles. The town's Catholic church is unique too. Built of local stone, the mortar that holds it together looks suspiciously like iron ore, says Rick.

Though IOC believes that Labrador City has moved well beyond being a "company town", it nevertheless has a single principal employer, so its future depends on the fortunes of IOC. It is, however, changing. More and more people are remaining here when they retire, both because they have children and grandchildren who live here, but also because they love their life here. It is, after all, Rick points out, a community they have built and sustained themselves, with a lot of deeply embedded pride and camaraderie. There's a strong sense of community, a safe family lifestyle and a focus on the outdoors, all qualities that have been attracting people to the area since IOC first opened its doors.

Next morning it's cold, and the night's frost was a hard one, but the sky is blue above the rolling hills and stunted trees that edge the Labrador Trough, the geological fault beneath which lie the ore reserves that are the reason for IOC's existence - world class iron deposits which have been mined since 1954.

Like most mine administration offices, IOC's are strictly functional, with a single glass case containing iron ore and pellet specimens and safety posters lining the walls. Here to greet me is Mike Shannon, VP Operations and Engineering.

Looking back at the decade or so before Rio Tinto arrived on the scene in 2000, Mike explains that IOC suffered what can euphemistically be described as "historical underinvestment" and went into a decline. "It would be fair to say that when Rio Tinto came into the picture IOC, the equipment, the infrastructure, the plant, were all in need of improvement. So the challenge we faced in 2001 was two fold - how to make IOC better, but how to fix it first.