87.92N,68.2175W

The wind shook our tent like rag doll all night , and by the time
we hit the trail, the were strengthening to a mid day high of 35-40
mph. Luckily, they were still in the south west coming in to our backs
and left side. Still, three days of being battered by the freezing
needles of the Arctic wind takes its toll; it is physically taxing.
Additionally, the field of vision is very reduced by the imperative use
of the fur ruff hood. Effective though it is at shielding the cold
prick of the wind, it is also very isolating. As I lead the trail, I
endlessly switch from checking the ground in front of me–a natural
position when pulling the sledge as the body leans forward–and
checking my bearing, which effectively feels like looking up at the
sky. Repeat that about 15,000 times a day and see what it does to your
neck! The stunning visuals of the fine particles of snow traveling
across the ice floor like smoke is worth the price of admission. It is
surreal and epic. I filmed and photographed some, further inviting cold
injuries and stealing precious time, but it had to be done! Filming the
snow drift into the endless sunset of the midnight sun…

We woke to a south drift loss of two miles and were determined to
make it up for it today. We were lucky again with the terrain and
managed to do 15 nautical miles in 13.5 hours of travel (which means we
really did 17 but lost another two to the treadmill-like drift).
Crossing a wet lead, the ice cracked and my ski and boot went through.
I was lucky: the ice had looked sturdy due to the snow deposits from
the wind. This environment is hard and does not forgive the slightest
misstep. I readc^e.

The race for the pole is still on. We hope for good luck in the
terrain again so we can maintain that speed. Our stopping position is
N87°55.313 and W68°00.675 and drifting east fast. By morning we will
have probably lost to the south as well. Wish us luck! Ten days to
go…

One thing you would not expect up here on the ice is a traffic jam. Yet,
that is effectively what happened to us at the end of our day.
First,
we lost a mile south overnight to the drift, not to mention the
easterly drift which has increased to two latitude points a day, for
the last two days! With that, and yesterday’s disappointing distance,
today’s focus was on performance: I was determined to do 14 nautical
miles. Less than that, and I thought our prospects to make the pole by
the 26th were poor, a sentiment I knew was shared among our logistics
team. Setting off, I was gripped by the irony of bringing a time
pressure into such a seemingly timeless environment. Such a human thing
to do. In our communion with Nature up here, this felt so out of
context. And sad. Even out here, we cannot help but bring our social
baggage. Brought to focus on speed and efficiency, I could not help but
feel upset at myself: here as well, in the end, I would be competing.
This meant no indulgences in travel, and no shoot time until I felt we
could afford it. On a day like today this proved more painful than I
thought, as we saw big weather shifts, and with it some visuals which
were new to us. Battered again by winds from the south west lashing out
and turning us into whip boys, a cloud cover shortly set in,
progressively covering the sun. The landscape became tough to read, as
all the already low contrast of this white environment was gone–save
the blue and green hues off the pressure ridges. Imagine walking into a
thick white fog, but with no fog: that is more or less what it felt
like out here–but add 25 mph winds! Luckily, the clouds lifted, but
the wind persisted, increasing through the day. We mostly lucked out
with the terrain and, save a couple of tough spots, benefitted at last
from friendlier large flat pans. But towards the end of the day, we
came upon a wide wet lead: open water near our bank, and no clear idea
of how solid the ice was on the other side. We proceeded to walk to the
east as one spot in the distance seemed cluttered with slush that might
help our passage. That is when something very different came into view.
Two unidentified black spots, standing where we were headed. We these
humans? As we approached, it turned out to be John Huston and Tyler
Fish, who are also going for the pole, their trip unsupported! Within
millions a square miles we run into two other dots who like ourselves,
elected to subject themselves to this exercise in self torture! To be
fair we knew they were within striking distance of us and were, too,
caught in this powerful easterly drift. We had a good moment with them,
as they put on their water suits and we thought to set up camp and wait
until morning as the crossing looked sketchy. This was the end of our
day, the beginning of theirs. Surely by morning, the lead would freeze
over. But soon they were on the other side and gave us the thumbs up!
We quickly gathered our stuff and made the testy crossing through
slush. Both Keith and I put one boot through the ice, but made it
safely. On the other side, these boys had left an angel in the snow as
a sign of good luck. They are on the same tight schedule as we are. We
eventually caught up with them and shared tracks for about an hour,
when we called it a day after a solid 14 hours. We are tired but
satisfied with 14 nautical miles of true north travel. Factoring the
drift and the weaving, we probably did three miles more than that. We
will lose some overnight but currently our position is N87°42.449 and
W72°20.880. Temperature were in the order of minus 22F degrees not
factoring windshield. Good night and thank you for being with us.

….

It’s hard to think of anything good to say about 25
knot Arctic winds whipping you all day with it’s frozen razor lashes.
But I did come up with one. Well, two if you count wind direction which
in this case was from the south/west and thus not head on (we are
headed north–but of course you knew that). The one good thing about a
cold wind beating you senseless while pulling a heavy sledge is that,
while the fine snow powder can become a blanket of liquid-smoke by your
feet, it is also hardening the ice. And this makes pulling a sledge
lighter. It is a trade-off. But behind the protection of a good
fur-ruffed hood, and with proper wind resistant clothing, and so long
as the wind does not blow directly in you face, the experience can be
less unbearable than would seem. It reduces the field of vision to what
is directly in front of you– which can feel isolating or cozy,
depending on how you look at it. Breaks are very short because the wind
does not like you to stop. Conversation is minimal, and focus is high,
especially now, given the time pressure we are on if we are going to
make the pole. We are fighting a south drift which is like running the
counter backwards: every 8 hours or so, we lose a hard fought for mile
to the Arctic sea drift; like walking on a treadmill.
Our first
order of the evening last night was to dry my clothes from the swim I
took that day. They were frozen into hard ice and weighted near 40
pounds! Then we elected to lose some lest from the re-supply, which
meant throwing away a lot of food, primarily our “treats” which amount
to things like bread, cheese, and extra meal items. To make more daily
mileage, it is now necessary for us to be lighter, thus faster. While I
hate littering out here (we have been religious about carrying our
trash) there is a neat bag with 40 ponds’ worth of frozen food which
will either make 1) an Inuit family believe in Santa Claus 2) a polar
bear finally feel justified in traveling these 3) a nice archeological
find one day.
Terrain was really tough for our first few hours,
negotiating a difficult maze of pressure ridges, the tallest we’ve had
to climb (up to 15 feet). The pans were short and hard fought for. This
tested our spirit; in three hours we covered about a mile… We came
upon a narrow thinly frozen lead which, given yesterday’s experience,
had us play very safe: we tied the two sledges together and tested the
manufacturer’s claim that the float, no matter what. We climbed onto
them, and broke the ice ahead of us to clear a passage–that took some
time. Finally, in the afternoon, the terrain started to open up a bit,
and we got to buy some mileage back. In the end we skied 14.5 hours and
only managed 11 nautical true north miles. Our current position is
N87°30.030 and W74°54.528. We are drifting East fast–the decimal
points on the GPS are literally rolling. We have tried to compensate
but I believe this will reverse… Temps were mild but for the wind, at
about minus 22F degrees. That’s it for now. Tomorrow will be opppp!