December 8, 2011

S77°54.992 E023°54.197

Elevation 11249 feet

One point one kilometers. That is the distance we covered by kite today. Apart from the 31 meters–the distance we managed on foot during the storm–this is officially our personal worse. It could well be a record, which would balance nicely with the one Eric and I set on Greenland last year at 595 kilometers by kites, in twenty four hours. In this case, it is hard to imagine anyone recording a much shorter distance!

The morning saw dead calm conditions again, and we thought this would be a replay of yesterday–confined to the tent with a forced rest day. But by noon, the tent’s fabric began to flutter. Ever the optimists, we chose to read this as encouraging, and packed up camp. By the time we were ready to launch, the wind remained marginal: 3.3 meters per second, and another North-north-westerly.
“It might pick up. Feels like it wants to,” I ventured tentatively.
“Yes, it’s still early,” Eric replied non committal.
In reality, it was not early: it was 13:30. And given our prior experiences, by midday, the wind rarely strengthened; more the other way. Still, after the sastrugi had its usual tiff with the lines, snagging them on every opportunity in an attempt to prevent the kites from taking off, we managed–just–to get them off the ground. But the pull was hardly convincing. A few slow meters, and a pause. When the sledge buttered against a piece of ice, the pause would extend beyond its welcome, and then fastidiously screech along with more theatrics than gusto. We were going nowhere. During a lull, my kite fell out of the sky and collapsed, lifeless, on the ice. The next weak gust moved it around just enough for the seventy five meter lines to get snagged again! I looked behind me to see Eric’s kite take the shape of a mushroom as it, too, fell to the ground. Twenty minutes, and we had covered one kilometer–or an average speed of three kilometers per hour! We decided to set the tent, as temporary shelter to see if conditions would improve. An hour later, they seemed to pull back some and we called it a day. Twenty minutes after that and the wind had shut off completely. There are times, and this is one of them, where the best thing to do–the only thing to do, in fact–is to surrender. No point in whining. Antarctica is serving us its array of conditions. And at the altitude we are traveling at to reach the POI, weak winds are on the menu.

It was colder today. My thermometer only reads down to 30C below, and by late afternoon it was pointing below that; 35C is my estimate. Even with the sun out, there was no shaking the cooler trends, and no afternoon strollon the ice. We’re going to take this as a good sign. The relative warmth of the last few days has not served the wind well, so change may be afoot. Crunching numbers, we need to average 46.5 kilometers per day between now and the South Pole. All bets are still on.

December 7, 2011

S77°54.494 E023°52.609

Elevation 11260 feet

What was it about He giveth and then taketh away? After yesterday’s hopeful signs, today has not manifested a whiff of wind. Since the early morning hours, the sun bas been in full force, blasting the tent, which makes for quite warm conditions; but not a flutter of wind. The morning was dead calm, and the afternoon has followed suit. I was hesitant, in yesterday’s blog, to address the mission’s objective for fear of jinxing it. Not that I am superstitious–it brings bad luck! But hardly were these thoughts uttered, that we are confined to stay put. A forced day of rest (and lost mileage) which turns into a housekeeping day, and our first game of chess. Eric spent much of the afternoon attempting to re-wire his precious Kindle which went on the fritz a few days ago, to his great chagrin. He has stripped wires from his head phones and pieced batteries together to give it the equivalent of an EKG. No luck yet, but we’ll keep you posted. I emptied my sledge to inspect the crack and re-organize the content. The good news is the crack seems stable to the right side of the front right ski. Since noticing it, I had moved the heavy content to the back to prevent a heavy load impact with sastrugi, a strategy that seems to work. Luckily, the sledges are beginning to feel lighter–what with one month of fuel and food less in them. I suspect they are about sixty five pounds lighter than when we started; the small bonus of each day spent–including rest days–is the weight lost to the cargo.

I spent an hour outside, and given the lack of wind, the very dry air and the full sun, the 20C below temperatures actually felt warm. But lesson learnt: wear eye protection at all time! The UV’s are also in full force.

I am revising our mileage per day calculations and cautiously optimistic about making up for the lost time. Dead calm days, like storms, should always be factored into the accounting. But on that note, optimism–sometimes idealism, occasionally naivete–is, by necessity, the additional member of an expedition. The will to make it and the belief that you can are necessary bed fellows on this type of mission. You cannot sign on without a positive outlook. Still, I thought we would break our first one thousand kilometers today. There is always tomorrow. Oh, cruel nature…

December 6, 2011

S77°54.494 E023°52.609

Elevation 11260 feet

At 6:30 this morning, I heard the low rumble of wind outside the tent. These days, any sign of wind is reason to get agitated, and the morning signs can make the difference between a deflated or energized mood. This was good enough to wake Eric up, and by 9:15, the kites were gingerly climbing in the sky. Conditions were far from epic, but given the last few days, a few knots of extra wind goes a long way. Ten minutes into our section, the terrain smoothed out completely. It was remarkable; the sastrugi was entirely gone which made for a silky glide and effortless skiing. The North-north-westerly was delivering a consistent twelve knots of straight down wind tack, the sun was blasting in our backs. Life was good. Had we finally reached the plateau’s smooth terrain and gentle katabatics? Our first two hours certainly held promise. A straight downwinder generally requires figure eight’s with the kite, and S turns with the skis. On smooth ice, given the very light resistance from the kite–we’re traveling in the same direction as the wind–and no snagging of the sledge on sastrugi, this is it actually quite fun. On our break, we marveled at the conditions. But it was not to last: barely into our second section, the ice roughened again, and soon turned into the worse we’ve seen since the demolition derby day. The wind was there but the ride turned into a rodeo as we bucked over the sastrugi cutting at a ninety degree angle across our path. The wild ride lasted twenty seven kilometers, or the length of our two hours section. This is not the environment where you want to land a kite, as the lines invariably get caught in every bit of sticking ice preventing a take off, which requires walking back and forth to clear the snags–it will drive you nuts! By the time we cleared that section, we were back to the usual conditions: a mix of smooth and rough ice, and weakening winds. They shut off by late afternoon but not before we managed to close 80 kilometers for the day. We needed that, if only as a boost of confidence. We are now 748 kilometers from the POI. If we can maintain a 45 kilometers average until the the South Pole, we just might be able to keep to the itinerary. This would leave us with twelve days to cover South Pole/Hercules Inlet and meet the mission’s three objectives:
1- First unassisted Novo to POI
2- First opening of POI/South Pole route
3- First East/West transcontinental crossing of Antarctica
From today, 45 kilometers per day separate us from those objectives. But let’s not count the eggs before they’ve hatched… Still, it’s good to dream a little.
Thank you for all the well wishes on our first month out here. Your support means a great deal to us; it is very much appreciated from the tent and on the ice!