November 29, 2011

S75°03.035′ E013°10.911

Elevation 11231 feet

Today did not turn out to be the day of glorious travel we have been waiting for. It was, by default, a day of rest. The morning was dead still and by noon, when a weak flutter manifested off the tent’s fabric, it turned out to be a Southeasterly–squarely where we are headed (our bearing at this point is 151°). Besides, by mid afternoon, as has been customary, the wind died altogether. A weak consolation prize: the sun was blasting the tent, and outside, the lack of wind made for a pleasant day which I optimized by going out on a walk. With camera, of course. I have been mesmerized by the shapes the low angle sun defines on the ice–raw, abstract and organic. This has become somewhat of an obsession these last weeks, and for today, a good way to constructively use time. Hidden in these random forms, shaped by the wind, are faces, animals or art deco lines and patterns. The ice delivers infinite variety, and chilly though it got, I put in two hours of good work. Besides, with four feet of ceiling space, a day in the tent essentially means lying down. Anytime the sun is out, the wind absent and temperatures hover around 20C below is a good opportunity to stretch the legs. This of course, will not get us closer to the 1167 kilometers that separates us from the POI, our first stop which I had hoped to reach by December 15th. It now means an daily average of around 72 kilometers, not daunting per se, but given the weak winds and poor direction–and our daily kiting average thus far: 42 kilometers!–a growing concern. This pretty much eclipses my hopes to make time on this leg for the uncertain stretch between POI and South Pole, a crossing that has, to this day, never been done. A big focus of the mission centers on that 800 kilometers section, opening it for the first time. Theoretically, the slow downhill grade that leads to the South Pole should generate tail winds, even if weak. Unfortunately, that is the same logic that should manifest northeasterly katabatics here and, well, we all know where that theory has gotten us. I had factored twenty five days for that section, one that remains a mystery. Any chartered flight within that region is so cost prohibitive that they are not even an option. In a few days, I will have to consider foregoing the POI and focus on the South Pole for just a transcontinental crossing. Our pick up off the ice is no later than January 26th. Seems a long way out, but not for the distances we need to cover. So we pray for good winds, starting tomorrow…

November 28, 2011

S75°03.035′ E013°10.911

Elevation 11231 feet

Antarctica is the largest ice mass in the world. But it wasn’t always the case, of course. During the last mini ice age, about 15,000 years ago, the Arctic ice cap expanded across all of Canada and as far south into the US as Pennsylvania. In fact, much of North America looked just like the terrain that we are experiencing here: vast, frozen and lifeless. As we advance farther into the heart of Antarctica, I can’t help but imagine–with a chill–what it would be like if the New York coastline was a mile or so below my skis. It may seem far fetched, but it isn’t, really. This is likely to happen again, though admittedly, I won’t be around when it does; which is just as well.

That thing about the early bird gets to fly from yesterday’s post has not turned out to be that, exactly. I woke up at six, then seven, then eight to the same lifeless excitement outside: the tent did not so much as flutter. Not a whiff of wind. It looked as though the day was a bust, but around 11:00 the low decibel sound of wind manifested timidly. There was just enough to get the big guns out, and the angle was acceptable: it meant beating upwind some, and with the powerful pull of the Yakuza’s, this translate to a real leg workout, but not necessarily much speed. Still, we were moving. The squeeze on my rib cage was less than ideal, but I have been popping Ibu 800’s like they were tic tacs–which brings up the concern of running out–and the pain comes and goes. I am frugal with the anti inflammatory at night to conserve on reserves. This means that any movement I make in the night typically wakes me up, and I am forced to sleep on my back. The strain is a downer, but I am getting used to it, and thankfully, apart from that, it is manageable.

The elephant in the room of this trip is, of course, the temperature. By the time we called the day, by 17:30, with winds so light the squeeze and effort were not worth the mileage, the temperature was around 35C below. The moment the effort stops, that cold has a bite that stays with you long after you’re in the tent and wrapped deep in the sleeping bag. Yesterday, I also noticed a crack in my sledge in one of the rails. It is of concern for the rest of the trip; not now while we are high on the plateau as the surface is smoother, but when we start encountering bad sastrugi again, this could have serious consequences. It surely happened on the demolition derby day, and I have been taking stowaway snow since. Argh! Another headache. We still managed 47.32 kilometers today and have broken 500 kilometers since Novo–504 to be exact!

November 27, 2011

S74°39.420′ E012°34.774′

Elevation 11174 Feet

The doldrums have as much to do with fun navigating the oceans as they do the ice. In fact, kite skiing an ice cap has a lot in common with ocean sailing. The infinite expanse of ice a frozen sea. Each feature on its surface like frozen waves, each hill a rolling swell. The feeling of isolation and complete freedom is also the same. Outside the clutter of communication, it is a place of introspection and examination. Where time stretches, and thoughts find the space to be heard. I like to think that, if not a better person, one comes back a more actualized one for the time you get to spend with your thoughts. Who gets to do that in the real world? On the ocean or the ice you can reflect. And reflection is one sure way to eventually find inner peace. But just the same, the doldrums can reap havoc to that peace and challenge your inner Buddha! On the ocean, it’s the slow roll of the hull, the flapping of the sails and the rhythmic clanking that gives even a stowaway rat the urge to hit the bottle and stretch a hammock. Out here the doldrums are not dead calm days: those are rest days. The doldrums are when the wind is there enough to get you out for fear of missing a day and badly needed miles, but so marginal that to endlessly watch the kite dive and slowly rise to gain a few meager feet could actually get you sea sick!

This is the dirty little secret of kiting expeditions: for each hour of glorious glide, flying over the ice like battle wagging Valkyryes, there are ten hours of fastidious, labor intensive haggling with the elements, at the losing end of a sore deal. But sitting rarely gets you where you want to go, and so for the last two hours of today’s travel, we negotiated each hard earned kilometers until the wind just petered out around 15:30. We started with a bang and ended with a whimper: the glory points were worth the price of admission, nonetheless, with strong wind for the first ninety minute section of our day which netted us 26 kilometers and the 48.38 kilometers daily total was sweat and back pain tears. It seems the pattern has been just that: good mornings and early shut off. This will force us out of bed: the early bird gets to fly!