Late afternoon sun over the sastrugi

Greenland is, for the most part, one giant ice mass, reaching two miles in depth at its thickest, and hugged by mountains along its coasts. Its interior was first explored by Nansen who made a “do or die” traverse from East to West in 1888. The ice sheet slowly rises from just about sea level to an average elevation of around 7500 feet. The interior is an endless succession of rolling hills. The top of any of these yields commanding views of ice, in all directions, stretching as far as the eyes can see. And given the barren nature of this context, the best visual analogy is that of a frozen sea.

Our location is N62°53.532 and W046°44.960 and we are at an elevation of 8399 feet.

Even with yesterday’s disappointment, there was high hope for today. After all, in spite of the day’s rodeo, one thing it did indicate was that change was afoot. The system was moving, and with it should come some workable conditions. Should. Which is why it was hard not to feel defeated when the whole night played to the sweet tune of that roaring jet engine, and the tent shook and did not let up! I hardly slept, and began to quietly wonder where this trip was going. Regardless, I was determined to move camp today, come hell or high water. Fed up with that spot, which after six days and six nights made our campsite feel noticeably homely. And with a broken tent pole (fixed but not reinstalled), the tent had a lot less commonality with “home sweet home” than it did with a demolition derby.

Sebastian on an archeological dig: somewhere under there are two disgruntled kite skiers!

The day started in the manner which we have grown accustomed to in the last few–the last five, to be exact: howling winds, tent flapping, and some measure of discouragement. No breaking news there. This would make it day six of being pinned down inside the tent, sheltered from a nasty and persistent wind storm that has hurled snow drift at our thin nylon walls, and cranked up the decibels for what amounts to 126 uninterrupted hours! Aside from time lost, I had a growing concern: we were slowly being entombed by rising walls of snow drift! By now, our sixth day, they reached almost three feet to the leeway side.