In the pressure ridges and earning my ski feet

It has been a fun weekend in McMurdo. Many parties and allot of good food. I have lots of pictures but I am out a camera cable right now and they are trapped. Hopefully the flood gates can be released soon.

I had arranged a hike with some new friends for saturday but one of the girls in the group saw an opening for the pressure ridge tour at Scott Base and signed us all up. It was a very beautiful afternoon. The ice is forced up out of the flat white into the sky at times 30 ft above our path. Our guide poked his way forward searching for melt pools under the snow that drifts into organic shapes around the ice before being carved away by the wind. Little coral crystals of ice creep up into the sky in places and unbroken ridges stress beneath our feet. We climbed a tall snow drift and found two seals not far from us soaking in the summer sun. One raised its head and flipped his flippers then slipped back into his nap. In the distance, at times framed by the ice, were Castle Rock and Erebus with a proud billow of smoke rising into the sky.

On Sunday I joined the ski school class. Too many people were suffering the consequences of a late Thanksgiving dinner and party so our class was small and only one other student showed up. Our volunteer teacher, Kevin from recreation, was awesome. I know he could have shot ahead but he stayed with us and ran different exercises to make us more aware of our skis. I was doing allot wrong my first attempt a week ago. My poles were backwards and I was fighting my skis. We fought the wind all the way out to the ice runway and then sailed across the ice with the wind at our backs for the ride home. It was a very succesful afternoon.

Sunday skiing adventure

Amy and I at Scott Base before my skiing attempt

I decided that I would try cross country skiing today. I went to gear issue last night and signed my life, and forty dollars, away for my ski getup. I was recommended a traditional set up. This morning I met my skiing partner for brunch and socialized with some other carpenters till noon. We finally resolved to get out into the world and arranged to meet up for a shuttle to Scott base at 12:30.

Our shuttle driver, a volunteer, is the Fire Chief for McMurdo station and we had a very pleasant ride to Scott base. We arrived and shopped in their store a little. I found some Lemon Drop Shnapps from New Zealand and a sew-on-patch. She found and bought some possum fur gloves and then fell in love with a Kiwi wool sweater that she couldn't afford. We were the first shuttle of the day and set off skiing when the American invasion of the Kiwi base began in earnest.

It turns out that cross country skiing in the fourth grade does not qualify a person to ski when they are an adult. I struggled on the flats and ended up on my butt falling down the hill to the sea ice. After five minutes of flopping around on the ice, like a fish out of water, I figured out how to get back up on to my skis. The smooth flow of action between poles and skis eluded me the entire struggle. My partner was very patient.



A view of the violent pressure ridges off Scott base near our skiing trail (maybe twenty feet high)

 Turns out that there are different types of skis as well. Not only did I not know how to ski but Amy was riding skate skis while I was on traditional skis. Her skis, much shorter than mine, as designed to let her skate the ice surface. Skate skis are much faster than traditional skis on ice and she was propelled by her legs while I was supposed to use arms and legs. So she would shoot a hundred feet ahead and wait patiently; I would struggle, then catch my breath, then struggle and catch up - then she was ready to go again. At one point she asked what I thought of the girl that shot past the both off us but I was so busy watching my skis that I didn't even notice her as she passed us.



Castle Rock ( a giant rock formation hundreds of feet high)  is to my right and Mt. Erebus is to my left

 We reached the one mile marker and decided to turn back as the wind was picking up. It turns out that my skis can go uphill while hers cannot. I was beggining to get closer to 'the rythem' but still was struggling. When we arrived back at Scott Base the Fire Chief gave us a ride home and I once in my the privacy of my room I devoured a whole bag of potato chips.

At dinner I talked to Kev from Recreation and he said that my struggling was the reason for McMurdo ski school. I am enrolled for next Sunday.

I will be sleeping well tonight.

Seals

Lovers up on the hill - beautiful night

Mama Seal

Surfacing for air

Little whiskers of a 1000 pound beast surfacing for air

And the money shot - baby bubba taking a nap

Seal Video

Art in McMurdo

Sunday in McMurdo.... The sun through the bell tower... God sending a message?

got milk?

Giant steel orca of McMurdo



Coming to eat you!

Such luck... he swam by

Tin Skiing man up on the hill



Bedtime in McMurdo

 





View of Tent City WAIS

Click and drag to see more, double click to zoom!

79°46 S, 112°08 W, 1833 Meters Elevation

Nov 9 2012



After waiting two weeks for the fates to match up good weather with a working plane we finally departed. I was sporting a fresh haircut from the day before and tt was the first day that I had arrived at the transport center without feeling like I had forgotten something.



Rugged terrain by the coast



 There are a few windows in the back of a LC-130 and as we left the coast I captured a small picture of the last few coastal mountains. Shortly the ground below was hidden by clouds.


 

The clouds break after a few hours

 I was deep in a nap when someone nudged me to let me know that the clouds had broken up. I don't know how large that storm was but I imagine on the ground it looks like a white sandstorm. The plane was very loud and we wore heavy earmuffs to cut out the din. The flight itself was smooth but the hearing protection prevented us from chatting during the flight. 

 





 

The view is the same in every direction as far as I can see



As we flew over the ice sheet this was all there was to see. A giant lake of ice extending to the horizon in all directions. Not a spot of color for miles. No farms, no highways, no power lines, no lakes or rivers, or hills, or mountains. Just ice and wandering snowdrifts.

I performed a quiet Hail Mary at landing. We landed without incident at total of 924 nautical miles from McMurdo. It felt very different than landing on pavement or ice. The LC-130 that we rode is unique in that it sports skis for landing in the snow. When we landed we skied along for a great while and the landing was remarkably smooth. The Herc has rollers lining the entire floor so that palletized materials can be easily pushed on and off by the two load masters. At WAIS a tractor pushing a sled with the same rollers received our cargo. Passengers offloaded in front of the propellers while they were still running.

The Antarctic Wastes seem to go on forever behind me

After arrival we were briefly briefed on dangers, off limit areas, our responsibilities and general camp life. When I stepped out on to the ice and looked around I felt foolish having a wallet and set of keys on me (my Houston keys no less- when I miss home I reach for them in my pocket). It was around nine so I helped the utility tech, Abe, set up his tent. As evening approached we all crashed in a Jamesway. A Jamesway is a 1950s green tent deployed by the US Army during the Korean War. They are a rounded tent like a  Quonset Hut. Graffiti, (name,occupation, and year worked)   from as early as 1985 adorn the walls from the workers in the Antarctic program. We ran two large diesel heaters in our tent and were too hot in our heavy sleeping bags that night. I started reading Endurance, by Alfred Lansing, regarding Shackleton's last Antarctic adventure. I began to feel very blessed to have a heated structure to sleep in.

Nov 10 2012

I woke up to the rustling of my tent mates; six carpenters, one electrician, one utility tech. Guys and girls slipped out of their bags and layered up for the day. I stepped out to find the outhouse and was jolted awake by the -30 degree celsius temperature. When I got back to the Jamesway I looked at my companions and quoted Hunter S. Thompson- "What the fuck are we doin' out here in the middle of the desert?!"

We all crowded into the small kitchen for breakfast and sat on buckets elbow to elbow. Some people ate in the wash module in shower stalls that had no water yet. With food in our bellies we proceeded to build the Galley - possibly the most important tent in the camp.

The wind was brisk and visibility was low when we started. Allot of new people, myself included, worked to find a place in the crew. Kevin, a tall biker type with a ZZTop beard, said that we were two of the biggest dudes there and had a responsibility to carry all the heaviest stuff. I worked with him placing the flooring boxes. At times things went smooth and everyone was happy. Other times, like when we sheathed the floor with plywood, tempers flared when last years labelling system defied all conventional logic and we had to wing it.



The Camp Staff can enjoy their meals like civilized people. This is a RAC tent- a modern version of the Jamesway

The Galley came together by 1800, hours earlier than anyone had hoped, and the weather had cleared by the afternoon. We were helping bring tables and chairs into the Galley when they removed the temporary heater by the door. This left a patch of slick rounded ice in the snow and I slipped on it and rolled my ankle.

I finished the day on my ankle, and even set my own tent up, but when I took off my boot my ankle was bruised and I decided against trooping my sleeping gear out to the my mountain tent. Only three of us slept in the heat that night - the rest of the group had moved on to their mountain tents.

By the morning my ankle had swollen so it would hardly fit my boot and I was forced to ask for a ACE bandage. That opened a can of worms and I was inspected by the nurse headed out to the furthest deep field camp, Pine Island Glacier (PIG), who confirmed my that my ankle was sprained. She told me that my ankle was no good but that smoking was much worse. Her name is Cary, very cute, but sadly she is recently married. So I was confined to light duties and spent my day putting all the extras in the galley like shelving, drying racks for gloves above the stoves, setting up the recycling center, and helping with dishes.

The foreman informed me that my ankle was a liability this far out and I was headed back to McMurdo. I spent the day bummed out, and made a call to my parents, and then headed to the Jamesway (this night alone- all hands had moved out to Tent City to make way for the morning arrivals), and awaited my morning flight back to McMurdo.

Nov 12, 2012

Wishing them luck - Anna, Forrest (old Growth), and myself. (from right to left).

Forrest, Old Growth as we like to call him, said to me that when a plane lands in WAIS a wise man gets on it. Everyone wished me a speedy recovery and I wished them luck. I packed my belongings, resolved to travel with less gear next assignment, helped the lead hand take down his tent (he spent two weeks out there preparing for our arrival and was headed back with me), and once the plane arrived and offloaded we took off. Nylander and I had the big LC-130 to ourselves that flight and we both stretched out and slept the three an a half hours home.

The end!

Sunday Hike- Hut Point to Arrival Heights




  So the toe is fine. It went "POP!" at 2:30 and all the pain stopped. I don't know how it popped out, and I don't know how it popped in, but it is all better... and I was really ready to do some hiking... despite the driving wind. So, following the map above, I started my adventure. Thank god for the orange lines cause otherwise I would most certainly have been lost.

Bloody cold and windy, -40 Deg Wind Chill

My issued Extreme Weather Gear (ECW) was all up the hill at the shop, and I had other hills to face -  so the steep 'goat path' to the shop was out - I made due with the gear on hand. My best synthetics on the inner layer, wool on top for my mid section, fleece on top for my bottoms, the amazing windproof Carhartts as an outer layer on my legs, my quad heat Columbia sweater, my windbreaker, my down vest, my Carhartt work jacket, my studio quality k240 ear muffs, my Ipod (essentials first), my Redwing balaclava, my best beanie, my 3M safety work glasses, Redwing insulated boots, thick wool socks, hand warmers and toe warmers, and I was ready (send all endorsement checks to Whittington).

If you follow the orange dots on the first picture to the end of the point you arrive at Discovery Hut. Scott built this hut in 1902 as a starting point for his pole attempt. It was a pre-fab structure from Australia. His men threw it together and quickly found out that it was designed for a much warmer climate and ended up only using it as a mess hall and slept in their ship.

When they were hungry they would eat the venerable Wedell seal. These wonderful beasts range between 800 lbs - 1000 lbs when mature. To the left I have a picture of a seal that was never consumed and left whole at the hut by Scott's men 100 years ago. Amazing. I nibbled a fin... delicious.

Click and drag on the above panorama of the Discovery Hut area for a 360 view.

My appetite inspired I hunted around the point and found another Weddell Seal - this one alive! This picture is the best my little camera could do, but the binoculars from Jeanine gave me a great view of the beast from the point. These carnivores can live up to 30 years if they squeak past the first seven. Remarkable carnivores, loving mothers, amazing swimmers, the southern most mammal on the planet.

My hunger sated I headed up the trail. The higher I went the stronger the wind. There were times when I wondered whether this hike was worth it. The wind blew and cliffs dropped many meters down to the rocks and ice on my left. I pondered the possibility of a gust throwing me over the edge to be eaten by seals. I rallied some gumption and pressed on.

I wish I had taken video, photography does no justice to the wind as it challenged my every step for the next hour. The higher I got the worse it got. I edged toward Arrival heights only to find the wind fighting me at every turn. The lonely red jacket following a mile behind me gave up at this point. I was beginning to question the wisdom of this journey.






.....

Another grim reminder of the harsh nature of this continent. The lady of the Snows. This statuette is a memorial to Construction Diver 3rd Class Richard T Williams, of the venerable US Navy, who died during the construction of McMurdo. He plunged through the ice in a piece of heavy equipment 350 fathoms to the bottom of McMurdo Bay. His body was never recovered.

Halfway... Hell Yeah! Listening to the Flobots, hoping we have Obama as a president on the seventh!

So I push, and push, and listen to the rhythm thumping through my k240s, one step at a time, one nook against the wind, one break, and on and on, up and up, the wind howls and tears, whips at my invulnerable Carhartts- yet I will not stop. I finally reach Arrival Heights.

 Click and drag for a better view- Erebus in the background, the golf balls are satelite dishes.

I arrive at the top, raise my arms in victory, lose my gloves and take all the pictures I can before I lose motor function. The cold burns, then I shove my camera down my jacket, my hands into the gloves with the warmers on full fire, and head back down an established road to McMurdo. This road hides all sorts of cool stuff I didn't know was here. The Explosives depot, the landfill, the "YARD" where everything anyone could want anywhere is, and eventually I arrive at the Carpenter Shop where I dump my gear and walk down to building 155 for dinner. I am soaked in sweat under my wind breaker- this is one hell of a place to go for a walk.

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Got on a C130!

Me in front of the C130 Hercules!

Some of you may have heard that my group has so far been unable to fly to WAIS Divide.

Yesterday we got closer than ever before when they bumped our flight up an hour, had to find us all, delivered us to the sea ice runway, frog marched us into the plane, revved the engines - "whirrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!RRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrihw", than it was quiet for a little, then they started them back up, "whirrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!RRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrihw", than the Sargent came back and said, "Sorry folks, no flight today, bad weather update at WAIS, and we don't like the temperature of one of the engines", so they frog marched us off the plane, back to a bus, back to station, and we all went to the bar, and after half an hour a call came to the bar asking all patrons heading to south pole to please proceed to building 140 for transport, half the bar left, we all went to bed, (they boomeranged- turned back mid flight), everyone on that flight was back for breakfast with us in the morning!

Tonight and tomorrow I am off the hook - and if my toe feels a bit better I will go for a hike. My toe seems to have malfunctioned as I didn't do any violence to it but it hurts regardless - strange.

That is the latest and greatest of my Antarctican capers.

Love to the puppies, pussies, people and padres!

'Ravens Gang" emblem on our C130.

Look how tickled I was about the prospect of flying.

Ice Runway - Click on picture and drag around for a 'in my boots' view of the runway