Conducting psychological tests, or what happens after being pinned down for five days!

Woke up today to the piercing weight of silence. After five days of this brouhaha, the sound of silence, comparatively speaking, can also be piercing. It was four AM, and stirred out of my dreams, it took a moment before I realized that the tent was still! This was reinforced to me when a gust gently fluttered the walls. And then nothing. Elated, I looked to my sleeping partner.

Day four weathering the storm–no bathing suit required

There is undeniable poetry in the violent and chaotic expression of nature’s forces. We see it when the sea is angry; when lightning strikes; with torrential tropical rains; or desert sand storms. Events that have inspired artists through the ages, from the renaissance to today. In the midst of a powerful wind storm on the ice, it is easy to be awed by this natural theater, one which plays like a grand, elemental symphony.

The storm has not relented, increasing in strength and intensity. The tent shook all night long like a ragdoll. Inside, trying to catch sleep can only be described as resting inside a roaring jet engine, so loud is the wind pounding outside at the flimsy nylon walls. Eric and I scream to each other in order to communicate, up until the point when we decide that such effort is not worth the price of admission, and fall back to our respective activities! The violence displayed here is some of the fiercest I have experienced. We estimate the gusts now to be reaching over 80 miles per hour–and hope that the tent will hold up! We joke about it, but have agreed on a plan, in the event of…

The spin drift is intense, finding its way through the slightest opening. Outside, drift banks are constantly building on the side walls and have to be monitored so as not to collapse the tent. Upon stepping out, the drifting snow immediately freezes on the outwear, and lashes the face as it races across the frozen ground. Reaching about two meters in height, this liquid smoke reduces the visibility down to twenty meters or so; but above, the sky is generally visible. Occasionally, the clouds part allowing the sun’s rays to shine through, which makes for an odd, apocalyptic juxtaposition. It is hard to imagine that three days ago we were in shorts and T-shirts, in melting snow, with no wind and clear blue skies!