Archive for the ‘Antarctica 2011 Legacy Crossing’ Category

December 25, 2011

S81°30.193 E050°44.931

Elevation 12175 feet

In the dream the owl landed next to me and remained close, its big yellow eyes peering into mine. I was seated and surprised how large a bird it is. More surprising even was our ability to communicate. Eventually, the bird moved closer and I eased it onto my knees. I asked whether he was territorial and roamed around here; and if we could be friends. He said yes. When I asked him what he likes to eat, he responded: “Noodles”…

“They’re here”, I said. Eric was in deep slumber but surprisingly responded in a sleepy voice: “Direction?” “Due North. We’re good to go”, I replied. It was 1:30 in the morning. We had shut down early, but I did not manage to sleep before midnight; it was dead calm, then. I passed out eventually, but kept one eye open for the slightest indication from the winds. After the noodle exchange with the owl, I perked up to the sound of gentle flapping from the tent. The wind was modest, but given the prediction, I stepped outside to check on direction. Already, there was enough to fly the big guns. By the time we cooked dinner, melted water and packed the tent, the wind was blowing snow and building. The cloud ceiling was low, and the temperature at 30C below without wind-chill. By 3:30 we were clipped into our thirteen meters and flying off.

Waiting for a storm keeps you on edge; and riding the head of a storm mixes excitement and anxious energy in the way that gambling probably does. The variables keep you alert and focused. The wind came up fast and strong within our first hour. At 4:30, we switched to our smallest kites, the six meters, which shot up like rockets into the sky. The visibility quickly dropped and within minutes, it was clear that the storm was on us. The gust grew to thirty knots, and the wind-chill temperature dropped to 55C below. Visibility was down to seventy five meters, and we made every effort to kite in close formation; getting separated in these conditions could have serious consequences. Periodically, the sledges would flip–there are getting lighter and, while the terrain is better than it has been, hitting sastrugi from the wrong angle at speed generates enough force to tip it, or flip it, into an abrupt stop. We kept alert of the other’s position at all times, but an hour of riding in this mayhem and we were done. It is stressful, not especially fun, and borderline unsafe. By the time we set up the tent, the storm was strengthening still. And it was cold! Eric–the mad man–started digging an ice cave, but the snow drift, and the cold, ended the project. Meanwhile, I had brought the stove inside the tent and cooked some tea while getting blood back to the extremities. Toe is stable still, so no worries. The temperature inside the tent temporarily rose to a balmy 20C degrees while the storm was raging outside. It was 7AM. We hung our clothes to dry, and buried ourselves inside our sleeping bags for a day slumber.

We only managed 31.8 kilometers, but have broken our first thousand miles for this trip–1616 kilometers to be exact–and, at 96 kilometers from the POI, we are now within striking distance. We’ll make a push in the middle of the night. Right now, at 19:00 hours, the conditions have mellowed to around twenty five knots. We need to capitalize on every opportunity at this stage. Though I have just stepped outside, and the storm has evidently brought cold air with it. It is COLD out there, people!

On this Christmas day, I think of all the loved ones, friends and family. And a special thought goes to those who don’t have any, as well as those forced to spend this time away, including the armed forces stationed overseas. Whatever warm sympathies we can muster from here goes to you. Merry Christmas everybody!

December 24, 2011

S81°22.321 E049°03.220

Elevation 12072 feet

The force of will does not change the weather. It is a fact of life that can be tough to reckon with, in some contexts. And expeditions are one of them. No matter how motivated, prepared and fit you are, natural forces will bend that will into submission, and humble you to surrender. For some, safety weighs in the balance; luckily for us, waiting is the only point of infliction. Suffices to say that Santa will not, by all indications, drop a wrapped and bowed pleasant travel day our way on Christmas day. Marc’s meteorological predictions were not entirely off; but the variabilities did not work in our favor, nor did the timeline. The southerly winds did manifest in the middle of the night, and grew to a strong twenty to twenty five knot average through the day. The fact that blowing snow and visibility would have made this a tough travel day is hardly relevant, since the angle was almost directly into our bearing: straight on headwinds, and unusable. While contemplating whether to tough it out in spite of losing considerable angle ground, I reached out to Marc again for a weather update. “The southerly will fade overnight, but you will get hit by a thirty knot average northerly by midday tomorrow. This will carry on through the night and into the following day. Strong weather! Your best bet will be for the 27th, unless you want to chance it this evening while the wind switches direction and before the build…”. No Christmas carols playing in the background; no boxing day special. Antarctica serves up another one of its house meals. And here I really felt for a schnitzel and a nice salad! Or my mom’s legendary lamb stew! Tough not making miles for the fifth consecutive day! I will keep an ear out for the wind tonight, and if indeed it dies off and turns with enough pop to get us away from here, we will pack in the night and travel until the storm reaches us. We will have plenty of time for sleep recover through the blow. Perhaps the 27th will be our day.

Meanwhile, on a personal front, I want to send a special warm embrace to my soulmate, partner and best friend on the anniversary of our engagement: baby, you are the one!

December 23, 2011

S81°22.321 E049°03.220

Elevation 12072 feet

The best I can say about today is that it followed Marc’s meteorological prediction, generally speaking. In the end, the wind did not blow four to six knots from the south; it didn’t blow from the north either; it simply did not manifest at all.

We are hanging on to Marc’s prediction like the word of the evangelist, hoping for wind tomorrow and then Christmas day. Aside from the very short 14 kilometers covered two days ago, today makes for the fourth day cooked up inside the tent. It is a little surreal. Aside from the tense anti-climax of watching days peel off the calendar while we still have so many miles to cover, it is also strange to think that we are now two days away from Christmas. In this festive time, I think of loved ones, family and friends preparing and planning dinner celebrations and I miss everyone, feeling fortunate that I have so many to miss.

In the spirit of the season, Eric did a wind dance that I captured on film, for your entertainment, as well as our own. In truth, today has been the most still day of the entire trip so far, with not a whisper of wind all day and all night. In that respect, the dance is a relatively fail-proof proposition: it is hard to imagine that it could actually get worse! Wispy high clouds have been developing this afternoon, partially shielding the sun, resulting in cooler temperatures inside.

I have began writing an article due in for the end of February; something that I honestly would never have imagined undertaking from the ice. But there are only so many chess games you can have in a day. With the iPod on the fritz, it comes back to writing! And here I thought I was getting away from the office…

On the health side, the toe is following its healing cycle, which is to say that the dead part is black and hard. It will eventually detach, but when exactly, I am not sure. As for the rib, I hardly feel the pain there anymore, except while sneezing. There is a bump where the break happened, but I assume that that, too, will eventually go away. Eric’s cough is still very much with him. I suspect it will dissipate as we lose altitude, but this won’t be for a while. We have a little over a month left on the ice. Our daily average has risen to 50 kilometers per day until the South Pole. We remain cautiously optimistic…

December 22, 2011

S81°22.321 E049°03.220

Elevation 12072 feet

A quietness that screams at you is hard to find. But on the ice, in a world void of life and on a windless day, silence takes on a weight that I have yet to experience anywhere. Beyond the screeching hiss that overtakes the audible sense, the slightest sound explodes through the ear canal as if captured in an isolation chamber. On a sleepless night, the heartbeat alone will dictate a clock-like rhythmic pounding there to remind you of each minute that drags on. And with each of those minutes, I contemplated the windless conditions and dubious prospects of the coming days. I dozed off a few times only to wake up to the same state, in and out of my head. By morning, the stillness of the tent’s fabric confirmed the night’s prediction: this will be another static day.

My anxiety stems from the elevation where we now find ourselves: at over 12000 feet (3600 meters), we are close to the top. The nature of katabatic winds is to roll downhill, generally gaining speed as they do. But the closer you are to the top, predictably, the weaker the wind. We are now a week behind my schedule assumption, and given the altitude of the POI, weak winds could be with us as well for the first couple of hundred kilometers towards the South Pole. Such a scenario would be detrimental to our time table, and compromise our ability to complete the mission. What we desperately need is another front system to push air to the south, like the one we had last week!

Upon studying the wind maps at home, and given the proximity of the Argus Dome (elevation of 4083 meters) about four hundred kilometers south-east of the us, I had assumed the winds would be weak, but sufficient to deliver kiteable conditions for the–as yet unexplored–leg from POI to the South Pole. Getting up this morning, I wondered if we would ever get there. Eric was more optimistic, but questioned reaching Hercules Inlet, the final leg of the expedition. We both agreed on a new strategy: if winds develop in the middle of the night–“our” night anyway, since the sun hasn’t set in over a month and we are just now at solstice!–regardless of sleep, we pack up and go. Additionally, starting tomorrow, if the wind does not manifest, we ski. Neither one of us was particularly excited about that option, given the thin air up here, and that getting up for a pee can suck your breath away! At least the terrain has smoothened out some, and the sledges are lighter by at least one hundred pound. While pulling my skiing boots out of the sledge to dry out the ice crystals inside, it occurs to me to call Marc De Keyser, the whiz Belgian meteorologist, who now happens to work for ALE, our logistics team from the South Pole on, at Union Glacier. After giving him our coordinates, Marc says he will call back with a model as soon as he figures it out. An hour later the phone rings: “Four to six knots from the south tomorrow, which is not going to help you much”, he announces. My heart sinks. “However, a front is moving towards you and you should see about fifteen knots building from the north in the afternoon of the 24th. This should grow through the night to twenty five to thirty knots on the 25th. You should reach the POI by Christmas day!” Aside from being a star, Marc right then was the closest I felt to Santa since I was four years old! His model predictions are notoriously on the money. That means probably a rest day tomorrow, and, short of another surprise, we should definitely see a white Christmas–at the POI!

December 21, 2011

S81°22.321 E049°03.220

Elevation 12072 feet

It is still as a corpse out there, and has been so since 13:00 this afternoon. It was quiet in the morning, and the wind manifested–weakly–long enough for a one hour section. No more. Hardly had we landed the kites for a five minute break that the wind simply shut off. And that was that for the day. We barely managed 14.5 kilometers. Luckily, at least, the fix job on the binding–part two–seems to be holding. Not that the speed we experienced today put it to the test, but it looks promising.

At this altitude, the winds are likely to be very weak. We are now out of the storm system that stayed with us for almost a week, and I have a feeling that, close to fifty days in, we may be entering the tougher psychological phase of the expedition: waiting for wind, and seeing the days burn by, without making the mileage. It has been tough to get a rhythm in for the last two weeks, and it doesn’t look like the weather will be cooperating soon. With only 126 kilometers to the POI, we can practically touch it! A distance that could be covered in one good day.

That section, as well as the one that will follow to the South Pole, was expected to be light on wind. We will get up if the winds manifest in the night. Or start skiing if we have to, perhaps more for the head than for the miles. There is only so much time you can spend in a tent without going cabin crazy–with or without chess! We have just had rice & beans for dinner, enough to generate a hurricane, even if only inside! Our spirit remains strong: we just pray for wind…

And now for the numbers: we have covered 1584 kilometers so far. There will be approximately 880 kilometers from the POI to the South Pole, and almost 1200 kilometers from the South Pole to Hercules Inlet. That very last section is notoriously, and without fail, very windy and riddle with sastrugi. It generally blows night and day, and we are planning on traveling long enough to cover 100 kilometers per day, with the hopes of closing it in twelve tough and final days.

So the focus remains on the aptly named Pole of Inaccessibility!

December 120, 2011

S81°18.637 E048°17.162

Elevation 12040 feet

Stillness surrounds us. All night the tent was battered again by the lashing winds, shaking, howling and hissing. By morning, however, the silence was deafening. Not a flutter from the tent, nor a whisper in the air. The sun was in hiding as evidenced by the sharp drop in temperature inside, and the absence of the morning blast of light over Eric’s side of the tent. Outside, a fog had overtaken the landscape, shrouding us in a blanket of white. Small crystal were dropping from the sky, but you could hear a pin drop: not a sound and a complete white out. The chill was piercing, and the temperature gage hit below 30C. That is all it took to get back to the warm feathers of the sleeping bag. As the day wore on, the horizon fought to outline itself, slowly defining a band of pale blue hues from the white midst. The sky looked like an abstract minimalist painting. Life imitating art.

Without the sun, it is hard to hide from the cold. Even inside, temperatures were well below zero for most of the day, which made for a good nap day. Eric repeated the effort of fixing the other binding, with the added comfort that the breaks were virtually identical. The fix, therefore, followed the same formula. Let’s hope they both hold.

I lost another nail today. In these boots, and after multiple weeks of riding over really rough terrain, the toes sustain a certain amount of trauma. Some go black; others bruise on top; just about all of them go numb. The feeling will slowly come back over weeks following the expedition. At least that’s how it went after Greenland. But the ongoing promising development is that the frostbite has not expanded or deteriorated for the last week, which conservatively suggests that it will not affect negatively the remainder of the expedition. This is a long shot from contemplations of loss, aborted mission and medivac, which were all discussed only a few days ago! Evidently, an angel is still sitting on my shoulder.

No travel today. The POI playing hard to get. Late in the evening, the sky cleared, and the sun, again, blasted the tent with its warm rays. I have a feeling the storm system of the last few days is behind us. This probably means back to low winds and slow miles. Whatever it takes…
PS. For those who have never seen a frostbite–there it is! It will heal.

December 19, 2011

S81°18.637 E048°17.162

Elevation 12040 feet

This morning held promise with a steady whistle outside, and a healthy amount of hissing from blowing snow hitting the side of the tent. A visual check outside confirmed that this would be a great day for speed. But by the time we were dressed, packed and ready to go, the wind had strengthened considerably. We chose to wait and see where this was going. Given the last two days, it seemed unlikely that a storm system would still be holding on. And yet, within thirty minutes the conditions were pumping thirty five knots gust, covering the ice with racing snow, and it was clear we were not going anywhere. The sun was in and out of a complex cloud system, and a storm was very much upon us.

We settled in the tent again, had some food and pulled out the chess board. On a long trip like this, our Hilleberg tent is like the third member of the expedition. It will act as home, temporary shelter, and beacon of solace at the end of a long and cold day. It is remarkable how well we adapt and how little we need. One can only marvel at humans’ ability to survive in such a harsh and antagonistic environment. The way a tent is designed and constructed plays a key role in that equation.

By mid afternoon the wind abated enough to make a go of it. At 16:00 our smallest kites, the six meter Access’ launched in the air like a rocket ships. The smaller the kite, the twitchier it gets. Designed for high winds, they cut through the sky at impressive speed, and amidst the blowing snow, propelled us further south.

Within half an hour, however, the wind dropped and we were struggling to make distance. Cloud banks still hugged the horizon, and given the up and down nature of the day we were hesitant to rig up. Still, we put up the thirteen meter Frenzy’s. After an hour averaging at twenty kilometers per hour, it seemed the wind was again suddenly coming down. “Let’s pull up the big gun before we get shut down,” I suggested. It was 18:30, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. The terrain had mellowed out some, and given our broad reach tack and fifteen knot winds, the fourteen meter Yakuza’s would deliver speed and distance. We agreed to go straight to 20:15. Ten minutes into the section, the wind grew again. The up and down nature of the conditions, along with cloud formations is something that we have not experienced for most of the trip, where sun, weaker winds and a clockwork afternoon shut down has been the norm. But today, at 19:00 the wind was steady and strong. The pull and adrenaline was intense. Like speed demons, we flew over the ice and, diving the kite in gusts, we easily reached forty kilometers per hour. The speed rush reminded me of Greenland last year, where we experienced remarkably smooth snow conditions and reached upwards of sixty kilometers per hour. But the terrain out here has limited our chance to move fast–until this evening! I had some concerns over the crack in the sledge, as it bounced and occasionally flew behind me, loyal to the death, like a dog on a leash! But this was the time to make up the mileage we had lost to the morning storm. And close the gap to the POI.

Something remarkable happened during today’s riding, the likes of which we had not experienced thus far. In fact, the first time it happened it pretty much freaked us out! The usual sound of the skis scratching the ice’ surface and the low decibel pounding of the sledge in tow was suddenly, and for a brief moment, over taken by what seemed like a low sounding, but concentrically spreading sonic boom! It felt like a thunder roll surrounded us as we sped through! All we could conclude–and I would love to get confirmation from our friends at the NSIDC in Boulder, Colorado–is that ice crystals below the surface of the ice form large hollow areas that get covered with blowing snow which freezes over. This creates pockets of air. The disturbance of running weight over it, as we speed through, settles the ground which spreads and results in creating that sound. The first time it happened, I thought a jet fighter was flying over head! But realizing that this was no fly path for any plane, I then thought that my hearing was being affected by some internal brain disturbance! Did not sound reassuring! When we shared our experience at the next break, we actually looked forward to encountering these strange but distracting events, with happened again, with different intensity throughout the day.

We’ve had two more mechanical failures today: the other Diamir binding which I have been wearing on Eric’s ski and boot, also broke in the last five minutes of the day. It failed in exactly the same way as the other one, conclusively proving that these are not the right binding for this environment. Given the success–so far–in fixing the other one with line and wire, we have some confidence in getting it to hold, at least until the South Pole, twenty three days from now. Additionally, it seems as though one of my Canon bodies has had it with being jerked around, bouncing all over the sledge. It has finally given up. Thanks to redundancy, I have a back up, but this one will be treated with extra care…

The wind was coming down when we called it a day, but by the time we were settled in the tent, it started howling again! The temperature has dropped down to 35C below again., and last night I was too cold and tired to write this update. We did cover 74 kilometers for the day which brings us to 140 kilometers from the POI. Perhaps two days if we’re lucky!

December 18, 2011

S81°06.062 E044°11.046

Elevation 11879 feet

It is a function of being out in the cold for weeks at a time and pretty soon, minus 20C feels like a warm day. I remember walking to the North Pole a couple of years back, and after struggling with temperatures of 55C below (65C with wind-chill), breaking up in sweats anytime it got above 25C below. Today, with the sun out and the wind in our back, in minus 20C I was roasting! I wore only two layers–three if you count my Village People mesh top, which is designed specifically to prevent sweat from sticking to the smart wool base layer–and all vents open. Napapijri, who has been my great clothing partner and has made all my expedition outerwear since 2005, has provided us again with some terrific and warm gear for this mission. But even with just the Skidoo jacket, stripped down of the fiber fill (and used only as a wind breaker with fur hood) I was sweating bullets. This had partly to do with flying the thirteen meter Frenzy’s on the downwind tack in some pretty rough sastrugi ridden terrain.

Strong wind battered the tent all night and we were stormed in for most of the day. It looked as though we’d be confined inside again, another day lost, and struggling to find a rhythm that seemed, in the last few days, lost to weather and frostbite tending. The storm that had hit Novo yesterday may well have reached us after all, even if with less force. The morning spectacle displayed all types of cloud systems, and periods of sun backlighting the blowing snow that accumulated large snow banks around the camp. The wind was also defining ominous chunks of sastrugi and further chewing up the landscape that sooner or later we’d have to ride over. But by mid afternoon, the furry was calming down; and by 16:00 we were packing our things, choosing to make a run for it in an attempt to save the day and put in some miles.
We lifted off at 17:00, ready for another wild rodeo. In fact, the wind had delivered a lot of soft snow, and though the ride was athletic–averaging about twenty kilometers per hour– the sastrugi was surprisingly soft on the skis. We even reached a patched of flat terrain, something that we had not seen in over two weeks. It did not last, of course, and soon we were back to bucking over the ice, the sledge popping in and out of the air every time a ramp was unavoidable.

In three hours, we managed 53.63 kilometers, but also rose in altitude. We are now at 11880 feet (3621 meters) and still rising. Most importantly, my toe is still in stable condition, and it appears in the early stage of healing. I am not sure if, and what I might lose from it (perhaps a few millimeters from the crown) but the boot and warmer climate have kept it toasty again today, which is good news. One rib seems to have completely healed, while the other only aches when I sneeze. Who knows: by the end of the trip I may be good as new!
We are now 209 kilometers from the POI. We can practically smell it!

December 17, 2011

S80°55.392 E041°19.709

Elevation 11677 feet

The wind was still strong when I woke up at 6:00 this morning. The sun was baking Eric’s side of the tent, as has been customary for the early mornings given the orientation of the tent; the wind determines that, and since we have been in a North-north-west system for the last couple of weeks or so, it is a de facto condition that his side gets the morning heat, provided there is sun. On my side, there is about a 10C degrees difference which can sometimes be advantageous. I sneaked a look outside. A cloud bank was headed our way, and the wind was blowing snow over the ice with about 14 knots. Given our late stop last night, I let Eric sleep another ninety minutes. I seems that we are in a new system, and today’s wind looked here to stay for the day.

Next, I undressed my toe to have a look. Another sigh of relief: it looked stable, having not changed in the last thirty six hours. Two days ago, the dead cells were spreading overnight. But that development has stopped, which means two things: 1- we have managed to contained the injury with the new boot configuration; 2- the frostbite, given continued care and protection, has initiated its healing cycle. In the worst case scenario, I might lose a few millimeters from the top; in the best case scenario, it will re-grow and I will lose some sensitivity in that toe. Either way, this is very good news.

We were slow out of the tent, and when we finally got out at 10:30, the sun had totally disappeared. We rigged the thirteen meter Frenzy’s and faced another downwind rodeo over some pretty chewed up terrain. We were rockin’ and rolling over the sastrugi on a very bumpy ride that required full concentration at all times. The last two days have seen some of the sportiest rides of the trip; not especially fast given the direction of travel, but a real workout. Additionally, since we are moving with the wind, it feels less cold (you don’t feel the wind) which in this case isn’t such a good thing given how physically taxing the ride is. I was sweating bullets, which is not good for the breaks: that is when the body rapidly cools down, in spite of the mild 20C below–outside of wind-chill. The other inconvenience of downwinders, is that the steam from your breath travels in the same direction and at just about the same speed, which makes fogging of goggles very difficult to avoid. I switched to my REVO’s which have been custom vented and managed all day to keep them fog free. They worked great! Downwind travel is slow–basically the same speed as the wind. After two hours, we had covered twenty four kilometers and the effort was considerable. But the good news was that, again, my right foot was warm in the boot, and did not even require thirty minute breaks. Between yesterday’s very cold temps, and today’s mild ones–no cold feet. It seems that we have regained control of the narrative! The wind dropped long enough for us to switch to the fourteen meter Yakuza’s, but soon grew again to blowing snow. On the downwind tack, we are forced to ride at a ninety degree angle to the sastrugi around here and moving at eighteen kilometers per hour in this terrain made for a wild ride! I was concerned with the crack in my sledge, since at that speed, it is difficult to avoid the occasional airborne, and sometime flip. The shake of the sledge is so intense that the cargo is subjected to a real work-over! A bag of peanuts will literally turn to butter! And I am not exaggerating!
The wind was growing, but the visibility closing in and by 17:00, we decided to pack it in. Good thing, as thirty minutes later, we were in a complete white out–our first since we’ve been here. Evidently, we are still in a stormy system. Upon speaking with Andrei, our search and rescue coordinator for our daily sked call tonight, I find out that Novo saw winds of forty-six meters per seconds today! That is roughly 165 kilometers per hour! I hope that isn’t headed our way… Luckily, we are now 1442 kilometers from there–hopefully out of reach. Right now the winds are howling outside, and the tent is shaking pretty nicely! Sounds like it will be a loud night. But most importantly, this evening’s inspection confirms that the toe is stable–no spreading of the bite. There will be no toe loss–that’s a promise!

We have covered 57 kilometers today and are 260 kilometers from our first destination: the Pole of Inaccessibility. The mission is carrying out as planned. We need to average 45 kilometers per day to reach the South Pole on January 11th. We are then planning twelve days to reach Hercules Inlet, and complete the first East-West transcontinental crossing of Antarctica. We have just past the mid point of the trip…!

December 16, 2011

S80°32.428 E03°12.416

Elevation 11629 feet

“Don’t lose your focus. Nobody wants this more than you do. Don’t lose your focus. Nobody wants this more…” Those words I kept repeating to myself as we bucked over the ice, riding the tail end of a storm that had, earlier in the day, sent us packing back to the tent. Flying the nine meters were already more forgiving than our brief morning session on the six meters, but this remained one of the more challenging kiting days of the expedition. Powerful guts, and almost a straight downwind tack displayed where the Ozone Frenzy’s earned their name: in those conditions, they were super twitchy. And a downwind tack means you are virtually not edging the skis as you are moving in the wind’s direction. Edging creates a resistance to the kite’s pull on which to set your balance. Without it, you are at the mercy of the guts jerking you forward while riding over the sastrugi: it’s a wild ride–exhausting, exacting and intense!

This morning showed promise as the wind had manifested early in the night, growling and shaking the tent. By 5:30, I woke Eric up. We’ve had luck with early sessions before, and a lot was riding on today’s session: testing the new boot and ski; making up for lost time; and, most importantly, monitoring the frost bite after a day on the trail. The later kept me tense through the night: if unable to contain the injury, I would be forced to abort mission and call in a medivac. Over the two and a half hours it took us to get ready and cook water, the condition kept building. By the time we stepped out, the horizon had closed up with a bank of fog, and snow was blowing pretty hard over the ice. After deciding to downsize to the thirteen meters, we then opted for the nine’s and settled on the six’s! Visibility was quickly closing in, and the wind had built to thirty five knots. With the wind-chill, the temperature had dropped to below minus fifty five. And those are the conditions in which we launched our kites, both Eric and I wearing a different boot on each foot, and riding two different skis! It was almost comical. The two skis are completely different; one for back country, long and pretty stiff; the other for freestyle, super loose, short and very flexible! Additionally, the mountaineering boot has no support–it is not designed for skiing! We lasted about five minutes! The six meter Frenzy’s were zipping across the air, and with the reduced visibility it became clear that this could quickly take a wrong turn. We packed the kites and set the tent 978 meters from where we had left!

The wind was still building and by the time the tent was up, we were in a full blown storm. Antarctica was serving up a special we hadn’t seen in about twenty days. It was 9:00 O’clock, and from inside our thin shelter, the day seemed shot: we went back to sleep. At least Eric did; I thought this would be a good opportunity to lay down, and listen to music. Well, music is never as good as when you can’t have it! My iPod has been having tantrums about the temperature, and chose to have me pay for it by cutting off tracks unexpectedly, and then refusing to play altogether. I fell asleep with the headphones on, and twenty minutes later was suddenly woken up by Bob Seger blasting out “Against The Wind”–which it chose to play three times in a row before shutting down altogether!
Well, that was my morning. I finally joined my fellow traveler in a nap. At 15:30, I stepped outside. The wind, while still strong, had dropped considerably, and visibility was restored to about two kilometers. “Let’s go for it”, I told Eric. I was eager to test the new boot system, as well as–needless to say–put in some miles. By 17:00, we were launching the nine meters for the wild gusty ride described earlier. We pushed until 20:00 and managed a modest 31.7 kilometers. But at least we were out of the tent, and, thankfully, my toe never got chilled!That was the best possible outcome to this chilly sortie, and the best news of the trip so far. Eric, in lending his boot, may well have saved the expedition. While we are both awkwardly dealing with riding two different skis, my boot, at least, is warm enough on his foot. Meanwhile, if storm chasing is not as fun as it sounds, the mission–that I can tell, at this stage–continues. We are back on track!