BlackCoffee

 

         I remember when I first came here like so many- so full of enthusiasm and having a “do everything” approach to life here.  I especially remember my first few days of work in our kitchen and spending time with the those poor souls who wintered over in the Antarctic darkness for the prior 6 months.  There faces were haggard looking and smiles were non existent.  They had dark bags under their eyes sunken behind their unkept beards.  Those that I spent time with outside of work just went to the bar and little else and I thought “ Man!  You should be happier because your in Antarctica!  Loosen up man!”  Im glad it was only a thought and not verbalized because I understand now- because I am now that man. 

        Freshies are coming in (those new souls full of life) and they annoy the hell out of me.  They look at me and think exactly what I did so many months ago.  I get it now.  My dark eyes and unkeptness fails to hide what this continent will do to you over time- It will eat you up and spit you out.  The midnight sun, the uv damage (because we have no ozone) , the same food, not being able to sleep ever, and the same people- it gets old and it takes more energy now more than ever to do anything at all-instead I go home and sleep so I can recover from the day and to prepare for tomorrow.  I have officically become an old crusty as they say- a curmudgeon if you will. 

                If you think its just me ranting about my bad attitude- well I am- and everyone has got it.  Just a part of the deal here. 

 

Last night I wandered over to our chapel- and just sat and stared.  I read a little- but mostly just vented all my anger, bad attitude, and qualms upwards.  The outsider would have noticed nothing out of order from my appearance- just a man in thought. 

   Its good to be honest-with yourself- with God- if you believe in that kind of thing.  Do I ?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no- but that’s the ebb and flow of life-like many things. 

            A good man does well to keep his maladies to himself.  A better man finds ways to deal with them by himself. 

                This is just what happens when you live in the harshest place on earth- you just gotta deal with it and move on.  Afterall, this is the place that is known to drive animals to suicide.

 

     I’ll be allright- I always am.  I’ve been through many situations similar, whether its hiking thousands of miles, or fishing in Alaska, or whatever- I anticipate the mental crux that this is- and I deal with it and move on quickly as I always do.  In the end, its not about how you start something- its about how you finish it.   My third wind is here- the end is nigh- and I will finish standing strong where so many others have fallen and given up.  

 

And then driving home I pulled over the car and knelt down in front of an emperor penguin-and we stared at each other.  Simply marvelous.  I smiled and knew things were going to be allright. 

 

Perspective.

 

 

 

 

 

.

yup.

Some people down here made a hysterical video explaining the history of the race to the south Pole.   Its made honoring the drunken video history series by Derek Waters.  This is wonderfull but worth it.

 

enjoy!

http://vimeo.com/35084075

 

                People have the wrong perception of what it is that I do down here.  My friends tell my other friends who are too lazy to read and email that I just wander around exploring nature.  They envision me perched on a rock, with a tweed jacket ofcourrse, smoking a churchwarden, while making sketches of moss in my mole skin notebook.  White people love mole skin notebooks.  Then after I sketch, I sit on the rock and stare inquisitively into the vast white and mutter things like “ahh’  and “ofcourse!” as lifes greatest questions are suddenly revealed to me (in a beam of light naturally) The answers are as follows: yes, yes, never, 43, aloe vera, and twice a week.  Partially, this is my fault due to my incessant writings on my continual mind wonder grenade that is this place.  So, instead Im going to write about the last 18 hours or so in the hopes that you understand what it is I really do- which isn’t all that different from what I described earlier.  Bear with me here.

8 am on a Friday

       I’ve made the ransom note for Jims Jacket with different shaped letters from magazines, just like the pros do it.  I even warned of no funny business.  Ransom note plastered on base for all to see: “To receive your jacket- you must sing Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You”- with everything you have at karaoke tomorrow night.  If you don’t, your jacket dies.”  Quick, straightforward- even has a picture of a knife held up to the jacket.  Check.  Instructions given to accomplice of what to do in my absence because I have to go to work soon.  Check.

 

Run back to dorm in shorts, t-shirt and moccasins.  Its Antarctica, and its very cold.  Im an idiot.  Mental note- wear more clothes, always.  Check.

8:30 am

  Fake Double Barrel Shotgun left from the Mad Max party and wooden pistol- got it.  Now I can start work.  A few words to clarify- I do in fact have a job, and I work very hard at it.  As a matter of fact, yesterday I had my review and my highlight was being told that I am a morale booster for our team ( because I convinced an entire department that the firehouse kept a secret dog named Sparkles that you could sign up for and play with for 15 minute blocks)  Did I mention I work for the government?  Ok.  Lets continue.

       I am a chef-but for most of the week I drive many miles out onto the ice shelf to a remote airport and feed swaths of wonderful people who all agree- Larry the Cable Guy is awesome. 

    First of- our destination is the Pegasus airfield located on a permanent iceshelf 15 miles away from base.  Sounds close, but it isn’t.  Our purpose- to deliver meals to all the mechanics and pilots and other personnel involved.  To make it one time, it  requires out kitchen to produce the food by a certain time, to have it loaded, as well as our bakery, to pray to the mechanic gods that another piece of our truck doesn’t fall off, and a hundred other things.   Its catering- Antarctic style.

        The problem- an ungroomed snow road, capable of debilitating even the most seasoned of drivers and vehicles equipped just for this place.  Our first week, we became stuck 12 times, three of which happened one way- all requiring a tractor to pull us out.  We blew up three vans, one engine failure, two over heated radiators, and a blown up Delta.  The third day, we had to replace the engine on our truck and transmission, and we switched the tires to matt tracks ( tank like things that’s are awesome, I’m pretty sure Chuck Norris uses them too)

     Before the matt tracks- the proper way to drive on such a road was to go as fast as you could (about 30) with the pedal, literally, to the metal.  Swerving 180 degrees in both directions was the norm, as was flying around the car due to the holes, to be saved only be your seatbelt.  If you see a friend stuck- you cannot stop or you too would face the same fate.  It required nerves of steel and I loved it.

     Now our matt tracks are on- and we drive at a blistering speed of 10 miles an hour.  All is well, so long as we don’t turn off the car, because of our bad starter.  There are no spare parts in Antarctica. 

  And then, we arrive.  If we are on time- all is well.  Unless were serving anything involving curry, Rosemary, or anything with a hint of ethnicity to its name.  If that’s the case then people are referred to comment cards.  Let me paraphrase some: “Dale Earnhardt Jr Doesn’t eat curry because he’s American and neither do I”- YOU SUCK AT COOKING-You make us feel like second class citizens- and my personal favorate-  I ate better in prison.    Did I mention the night all the entrée’s had curry so I changed the names to sound American? Such as….Ricky Bobby Stew…and True American spicy beef soup?  Well, it worked and everyone loved it.  I digress. 

      9:15 am

 Baxter and begin the mind numbingly, literal crawl, to Pegasus.  Because we lack radio and audio distractions we have resorted to sheer violence and psychological terror to pass the time.  Game plan: as the driver I will smile at oncoming Deltas, Vans and tractors ( and anyone else), I will wave kindly- and then we whip out the guns and blast them with threating noises such as “pew! Pew! Pew! And BANG!  BANG BANG!!  Many laugh, some play dead, some shoot back.  But many, are just plain confused.  When completed- I get on the Cb Radio to inform them that they were just involed in a driveby. 

10:55 am

         Lunch begins in 5 minutes and we just got here.  There is a line out the door of airforce guys and gals, and many others, and they are all staring at me.  Some are more diplomatic in their glances at me, watching my every move waiting for chow to begin.  We work fast.

11:15 am

                Comment from client “ I don’t like the food.” 

                                                 Me “Great,  there is a deli fridge.  Go make a sandwhich.

                                Larry the Cable Guy lover’s response “ I don’t like sandwhiches.”

                                                  Me “ Then go get some leftovers in the fridge.  ”

                                Redneck says “ I don’t like leftovers neither.”   Note the poor grammar.

                                          Hypothetical Response from me: “You are a grown man and are acting like a grown man baby incapable of feeding itself.  The reason your hungry is because your lazy and stupid and most likely are incapable of operating our complicated microwave.  And yet, you work as a plane mechanic.  That scares me.  Also, if you haven’t noticed  WERE IN ANTARCTICA!! Be glad you get food at all.  Have a nice day.”

                                Actual response: “Im not your mom.  I don’t care if you don’t eat.”

                                Southern Stereoype responds without words- he just makes a scowl at the injustice in this world and is forced to move on by the heckling of his co workers for being such a pain in the ass.

1:30 pm

                Everyone is gone in my galley including my dining attendant helper person. I am done cleaning , stocking etc.  Dinner won’t be here until 5.  I have 4 ½ hours to kill.  Lets see what I can do being that I am stuck at a remote site on an iceshelf..  Ok- Ill go for a run.

1:44 pm

      “Hey! Are you running?”  said the smoking man.

                “Yes I am”  when I really wanted to do was comment on his acute powers to observe the obvious.

               “Why?”   

              No response- kept running.

2:00 pm

     Dammit, I still have 4 hours to kill.  Maybe I will go to the bathroom now.  That should kill 7 minutes for sure.  As I began to walk towards the bathroom about 50 yards away, I noticed something peculiar.  Two tractor trailer sized buildings next to the bathroom- both making awful noises and one with an unusual greenish brown plume of smoke wafting all over the place.  Odd.  Oh well, 7 minutes here I go.

Nobody had warned me about the incident  and the solution to the incident.  I walked right into the wafting smoke of putridity and instantly started gagging and coughing. 

 

The night before some pipes froze, and being that we have only sewage tanks out this far- somehow it caused all the feces and pee to explode back into the bathroom totally filling it in  a foot of god awful- awfulness.  A woman was in there when it happened.  I believe she now suffers from PTSD.  How do I allocate for being involved in a poo pee explosion?  Only people down here will get that joke.

    The solution- drag out an incinerator- get all the nasty into the incinerator and set it on fire.  Yes, set it on fire.  And make the fire poo burining building right next to the bathroom.  And make sure that the exhaust of the burning poo is at the exact height of the bathroom ventilation.  Did I mention I work for the government?

                We aren’t allowed to pee outside because the pee will stay there indefinitely for all to see for the next millennia- so we are forced to use this bathroom.  Today a firefighter put on all of his gear, including oxygen, to use it.  See the picture below.  I can hold my breath about a minute- but that’s still not enough time to do what you gotta do.  It is quick, it is awful and the best way to describe the smell- is that it smells like an outhouse set on fire. 

2:02 pm

        Maybe I’ll go bug the firefigheters for a while- that’s always fun.

2:04 pm

         I am made an unofficial firefighter due to my irreverence and twister sense of humor.  I fit in well.  We played a game for a few hours called cards against humanity- basically apples to apples for adults and my face hurt from laughing so hard.  Thought…maybe I should go to work and do something- instantly I remember there is no work to be done- and there is no boss.  Im the boss- and no bosses can come out to check on me.  Perfect

3:30 pm

           I wander back to the galley module, shuffling across the frozen ice in my clogs.  I poke around in some old drawers and find a sweet coloring book with nothing but dinosaurs.  I also find crayons and im pretty sure there are no children here.  Weird.  What the hell- lets color.  I colored  many dinosaurs- some I gave cowboy hats and bandana’s, one had a top hot and cane, and a pterodactyl with a joint in his mouth.  I also found Christmas decorations so I put those up as well. 

 

 

6:00 pm

                Dinner has long been served, pretty uneventful.  My DA and I and bored so we walk around outside and notice that the super secret spy plane/drone is out.  We take pictures of it because were not supposed to and some scientists explain to us how this is proprietary information and that we can’t take pictures.  I apologize and walk away.  Hmm  a c-17 is landing!  Lets watch that!  The firefighters eventually linger in to dinner so we hang out again with them and I dare one to eat 10 hamburgers after already eating two anda hotdog.  Challenge accepted- food eating contest commencing.  The fine specimen of man puts them all down in 9 minutes without so much as a grimace of pain or discomfort.  Damn, now I gotta give my bottle of aged Jameson.  Oh well, it was fun.

 

                6:40 pm.  As were cleaning up the last of the dirties- a man comes into the galley with out fleet opertations and greets me and the asks for a long bristled broom. 

                Me – “Sure you can- what happened?”

      Bob- “A plane crashed”

       Me- I have a case of cognitive disconnect going on. What I thought and then soon verbalized was the idea that planes are huge here- even the little ones- I didn’t hear an explosion-nor did this man seem to be in any kind of hurry.  Curious.

            Me- “Im sorry, I thought you said a plance crashed.”

            Bob- “Yeah, the drone ate it hard.  It lost communiucations and kamimazied.  Three million bucks gone just like that.”

                Me- “Dang.  Cool.  I’m super stoked it wasn’t a big plance.  Gotta go, see you tomorrow Bob.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7:30 pm

                The awful drive home.  You ever see the movie Office Space where the dude is sitting in traffic and starts freaking out?  That’s me.  Two hours of driving a straight line, with only snow to look at- bumping around with no radio.  It makes me want to punch a dog in the face sometimes- but hey- atleast a bathroom didn’t explode on me, so that’s good.

9:30pm

 

 

After two hours of first gear speeds- we limp into the galley and unload.  When I come into the kitchen I see Jim who proceeds to give me the bird and looks super super pissed.  Then he smiles, gives me a hug and explains that I “got him good”.

                   My accomplice in the jacket kidnapping told everyone to be at the bar at 8:30 where Jim was made to stand on the bar and belt out Whitney Houston’s “I will always love you.” Apparrently, it was amazing and on video and it ended up being quite entertaining.  Another good prank pulled off- I even feel a little smug about myself.  I dun good.

 

10:pm

   I run up to 155 because tonight is my friends Art gallery- underneath her bed-literally.  There are about a dozen people waiting for a turn to crawl underneath the bed and examine the miniature art.  See examples below- including mine.

10:45

    I grab the key to our radio room to chill for a few because it’s the only place on base where you can be alone and rock out.  Instead of rocking, I play a few minutes of “secret DJ”.  This is a game where I secretly drop in odd music into the random suffle database that plays music when no dj’s are present.  I played a song by Eddie Murphy called Boogie in your Butt.  It’s a song about putting things in your butt- like a radiator- or midget- or loose change.  I bet he did a lot of drugs in the eighties.  Then I subtly drop in a song by Mr. T on vinyl called ‘Be nice to your Mother’.  I would like to think that maybe one person might question the validity of  the shuffle machine.  And done. 

11:30

     Reading a good book and watching tv.

1:15 am

           Passed out in my bed.

 

 

This is what usually happens when im at work.  Wait till you hear what happens when I ain’t!

    Antarctica is a wonderfully random place and your never quite sure what will happen or when.  Does this sound like an odd day?  Not to me, infact its fairly normal.  Tomorrow I will do it again

   We have a funny saying about the ice: You know you’ve been here too long when the absurdly weird becomes the everyday norm”.

Hey all!

 

  Doing well down here- finnaly got my own computer which means i can finnaly write more, and do more!  With 1200 people on base and only about 20 public computers to use- any time at all is a commodity you could say.

 

Well, its officically summer- it gets up to 20 degrees now and our base is melting away to reveal the ugly black earth below.  Everyday there are mighty streams of melt that run into nasty puddles- and then about 4 oclock they freeze- and repear the process the following day.  Its like watching mini glaciers!

      Weve had a good spot of weather the last week with no storms- but that has passed and its snowing again already.  Work is good, life is good.  Ive been keeping busy- playing practical jokes on many people- including fake posters for Yoga fight clubs and small arms training at our bunker..  But, I am especially proud of a prank only a man of my talents could pull off!

        I spread a rumor that our firehouse has been secretly keeping a small firehouse dog (banned on the continent) and thats its considered to be the greatest kept secret on the continent.  It was easy to convince one girl as she loved dogs and tried to go to the firehouse to see him- or check him out.  Luckily for me, I had all the firefighters in on the joke and they gave her the runaround for a while- its on a walk, or sleeping etc.  Many people began to beleive that sparkles the cocker spaniel was real- and many inquired much to the firefighters delight! 

     Two weeks later we decided to up the anty- by creating a fake sign up board for those who wanted to play with him for 15 minute segments at a time.  Many people signed up eagerly anticipating sparkles time.  When they found out the truth- well they were shocked that it wasnt real, that so many were involved, at its depth- but thats the trick to a good joke!  The joke continues on as its spread far beyond our galley, and many more will walk into the firehouse asking for sparkles.  Did I mention they had fake dog sounds and treats to sell the joke?  well done boys haha

 

anyways, all goes well- another big storm be brewing outside!

 

oh yeah, here is a great video for you to enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N32NBKP2umQ

 

New Things.  Old Things.

 

    Two months, and I still find myself falling for this cold dead place.   The howling winds, the searching colds, mostly the history and legend that intrigues me most.  This is hallowed ground of the bravest men the world has ever known and their tales both tragic and heroic.  It is a place where dying in epic struggle solidifies you forever  in history as much as success.  I stand on the shoulders of these giants. This is my home and my story has barely begun.

            At work today someone discovered a spider that arrived in a container.  We placed him in a cup and groups of people came up to watch respectfully and curiously at this foreign creature.  In a cold dead place, we learn to appreciate the litting things, like brave hitchhiking spiders.  He soon died and we all agreed that it was a good death and perhaps had been  the greatest adventure any spider had been on before and had the distinct privlige of being the only spider on a continent.

            The thing I love, even more than the ice locked mountains and the slumbering seals, are the men who paved the way for people like myself to be here.  That, and the fact that this is the last virgin frontier on the earth.  This is my home, a place that repels the boldest attempts of man to tame and conquer her. 

            Soon enough I will see much more of this mystery place-a new job will require me to drive into the deep.  It’s a privlige really to be a chef at the ice runway- many miles onto the ice shelf far from the comforts of Mc Murdo.     Alone in the middle of nowhere, In my tiny kitchen at the bottom of the world that knows no solid ground, I will be.  I will have time to wander, to explore- to watch the leopard seals hunt its quarry- penguins and more.  I will stare in all directions with arms spread and see nothing but an abyss of white.  I will scream to feel alive and I shall be happy- because I know that this where I am supposed to be- a place that mirrors my soul.

 

To Die Standing.

 

            I’ve seen him often as I see everyone that comes into the galley.  Thick beard, handle bar mustache- a true Antarctic veteran with over 20 seasons under his belt.  The man has wintered at the south pole, Palmer Station and several land treverses to the pole.  You could say that he has seen a thing or two and I one night I found myself sharing a few beers with him at the only bar, appropriately called Southern, at the bottom of the world.  We traded stories and rounds and laughed heartily at my adventures in missing the point and I at his.

     The man studied penguins, quite possiblly could be the pre-eminent expert of them all you could say.  Often he would fly to painfully remote places on the edge of the continent to spent time at the rookeries and be with his specimens that he spoke so fondly about.  At a certain point of comfortability in the conversation- I asked him about something that I wasn’t sure was real, something that perhaps he could shed some light upon and what he began to share both fascinated and haunted me.

            I have heard rumors of Penguins going mad ,of even committing a type of suicide.  He told me that he had seen it many times and began to explain the phenomenon.  Often times he would be deep into the continent- some 50 or 100 or more miles into the interior and would encounter a lone penguin, hurriedly heading south as if It had to be somewhere.

  The penguin wouldn’t even look at him as it marched into oblivion guided by an inner mission of

the greatest importance.  It marched standing tall to its death- with each step further away

from its food, the ocean, and the companionship of its friends.  Eventually it will tire,

fall down and forever be memorialized into the ice as it freezes into oblivion.  Indeed,

a strange and fascinating behavior.

            I asked if they were sick, or perhaps injured and I was told that usually the

specimens are perfectly healthy.  They simply choose for unknown reasons, death over life.

            He has even had the rare privilige of watching the exact moment it happens.  A

group of penguins traverse to a new location and one simply steps out of line- looks around, almost contemplatively, and turns south as fast as it can.  the others make no effort to stop it.

    Its this image that intrigues me- of an animal making a decision to choose death and what a truly extrordinary animal it must be.  Or perhaps it simply means that this cold dead place can even drive animals to madness.

    What will I do if I see one?  What shall I say?

     I know the answer.  I shall leave my camera sheathed and silent as I witness this

profound creature in its last heroic gasp of life- perhaps I will wish it fare le well.  More

than anything, I will do as its friends have done- nothing and let it go in peace undisturbed.

     A part of me understands- even empathises a bit with this creature- afterall life

can be terribly unfair and cruel and mother nature is surely the cruelest of all. and who am I to intervene?  I am reminded of a close friend who suffered from a debilitating disease and lived in horrific misery who took his own life.  I understood why.

     I don’t know why the penguin does this- nor do the scientists.  Its possibble they aren’t

deciding to end life at all- but to live it, to chart their own course divorced from the others

identical routines unknowlingly of the consequences. Or again, they might simply be choosing to die- who knows.

Regardless- they do it with passion and singlemindenness of their taskwhatever it may be.  For me- I can only hope that I too am brave enough to chart a course of

life unique and unchartered and take a lesson from these majestic creatures both in life and in death.  As my father told me as a young child- Its always better to die standing.

   

 

 

 

    It’s been a few weeks since my last entry and I apologize for that.  Its not that anything hasn’t happened, but contrary to popular beleif, I do actually have a job here, and an important one.  Six days a week I am a chef and in those few precious hours when im not at work, I am at play.

 

    The last two weeks or so hasn’t seen a whole lot of excitement in terms of outdoor activity.  The weather during this time didn’t come below -40 and any kind of travel outdoors was certainly out of the question.  We had our first, and hopefully our lastl condition one storm, a pretty rare thing here.  We operate on rating from condition three, being windy but relatively safe and outdoor activity is allowed.  Con 2 is heavy winds and outdoor hiking isn’t allowed.  Most of the time storms range in con 2, even pretty severe ones at that.  But every once in a while a con 1 comes along, where visibility is zero, and winds are 60 knots or greater, and all activity outdoors is restricted.  The funny thing though, it was only about -50 or so, which wasn’t too bad.  A few days later though, we had a year low of -112 below zero, but only condition two!  A quick word on what it feels like to be in that cold.

    I don’t have the luxury of living where I work and I must walk maybe 100 or so yards to my dorm.  walking that gap when its that cold feels like someone is punching you in the face and any skin will be frostbitten in seconds.  Bareskin touching metal will rip off skin immideately.  Even thuogh properly equipped, I personnaly can only stand it for a minute or two, and heaven forbid if you don’t have the right gear.  I can literally die, walking to work !  It takes a few minutes to recover as the cold thoroughly penetrates your core despite your clothes.

     At that temp, our pipes starting bursting, boilers started dying, and many buildings lost heat, including ours.  Not to worry, I slept in my special gear anyways.

 

 

    besides the weather, I feel I have waxed poetic on the beauty blah blah blah and have failed to report another equally prominent aspect of Antartica- the people.

  Someone said- that those without anchors have a tendency to fall to the bottom of the earth, and boy is that true.  A broad swath of folk from wonderfuuly creative and interesting backgrounds.  Travelers, wanders, rocket scientits, and carnival workers, all together.  my kind of people you could say.  Its a place, where we don’t feel at home at home, or most places at that.  We are people cut from a different cloth so to speak.  the other day I heard a conversation where dtwo people discovered they were both at everest basecamp atthe same time, and that wasn’t that odd of a conversation!  Another fascinating fact, is that there is a signifigant gay population here- perhaps 7 to 10 percent of the population im guessing.  Some of the nicest, interesting people I’ve met here so far actually.  Please understand, i write as a person who has no problem with such lifestyles and its of little concern to me that a person is , or isn’t.  A more interesting question to me, is why here.  I have yet to find a definitive answer- but Im hypothesizing that its one of the main reasons any of us come here- because this is a safe and accepting place for all kinds of lifestyles, quirks, habits, and beyond.  Its a place where normally outcasted people back home can find a safe community of open minded people.  Is it an indication of how fallen our culture has become?  Or perhaps im looking into something too much. who knows.

    I also have a good friend who grew up in a circus- he can chew glass and lead.  He is a good man and im glad to have met him.  And no, i dont want him to show me how he does it either.

 

   Today is also the last setting sun and in the morning , it will be sunlight for the next 6 months.

 

October 2^nd,

      I’ve been volunteering at theBergFieldCenterlately and have been loving it.  This department is the gear outfitters for all the scientists etc that go out into the field.  Think of it is an REI, but with cooler stuff, and with people who actually know what there talking about, and free.  I’ve been fixing tents, sleeping bags, working on wooden sleds and more and am hoping in the future that I can come back and work for them, its right up my alley, certainly more so than cooking.  Also today, a nasty blizzard blew in and screwed up all my plans.

 http://www.youtube.com/embed/1C1fwtQN7ys

      We are astronauts.  I announced this to Jean and Jason as we walked further and further into the abyssal white.  Step by step we trudged along into the Antarctic in search of the elusive southern lights.  We are astronauts I thought, because we are wearing extrordinary protective gear that makes outing like this feasable.  Giant white boots, balaclavas, goggles, giant down jackets capable of going sub 100 below zero and more.  The only sounds as we walked was the crunching of the snow beneath our feet and the occasional howl of wind.  Eerily silent, we marched into space.

      Antarctica is the largest desert on the planet.  Its also the highest, driest, and fiercest weather on earth and during the night we could have been in the Sahara and not known the difference, save for the cold.  I also learned tonight that it is infact, possible for your eyes to freeze shut.

     At night, there is not line between the horizon and the sky and your essentially looking at a wall of white in all directions and plays wonderful tricks on the eyes.  Mroe than once we stopped to wonder whether that black thing in front of us was- a rock, a giant mountain, or a shelter, and whether it was 50 yards from us or 20 miles.  Again, persepctives are tricky here.

   W e walked along almost in a semi dream state where the only definitive thing that was real was your friend next to you.

We spoke often of the privilige we have and to do what we do.  Often we stopped to marvel at the stars, at the brilliant pulsars that Jason thought were planes, or the way the constellations are upside down and magnified in closeness, or even the way the moon waxes backwards.

    After a few chilly hours we took refuge in a hut and sipped cocoa with frozen snot smiles.  My entire face was iced over and my balaclava had frozen from my breath into a rockhard bucket shaped organism.  Little was said except that we felt special and that to our south was nothing for thousands of miles.  We were on the frontier of civilization.

    For me it was a very special time as I fulfilled one of my dreams- to march in the footsteps of my heros- Shackleton, Amundesn and Scott, those brave men of a bygone era.  I walked in their steps, experienced the deep freeze of the Antarctic winter as they did.  It was a taste, but a good taste.  Afterall, how many people get to do that? 

    We turned around and headed back around midnight in silence.  I think we were all in awe and wonderfully aware of how futile our words were in trying to descrive the scene, the moment, the feelings.   I tried to explain it to Jean and failed.  She tried also and failed and we both agreed simply- that words were not necessary.

 Fortitudine Vincimus   – By Endurance We Conquer

ps.   WHat are some questions you have for me?  FOr what what im doing?  Anything?  If  I have enough questions i’ll be happy to answer them all in a video!

Romero

 

 

 

August 29th 2011,

       One week down and many more to go.  If you are bored here it is only because you are lazy because there is almost too much to do here.  One night its karaoke at the coffe house, or a film screening, or a themed base d party, or watching the little mermaid together, or simply hiking or going to the bars.

       On the 23d, several of us walked over to Scott hut where in 1912 Scott setup his winter camp in his quest for the southpole.  His provisions are still instact inside as if he had just stepped out a for a minute or two.  There is even a 100 year old seal sitting outside perfectly preserved.  A little further away we sat star gazing on a bluff staring at the impossibly clear skies.  My eyelids nearly froze shut as is the commonplace here.

     The next night we summited Observation Hill, a foreboading peak on our base covered in deep snow pack.  After a long day at work, we tackled it during the night despite a Condtion two warning.  For those that worry, we were allowed to do so, even cleared with the fire department and we had a radio.  Trudging along the rocks higher and higher passing significant ledges, we summited and shared a flask of fine spirit.

   It was a steep climb and we all took turns kicking steps in the ice.  At one point, it dawned on me, that I am climbing a mountain at night, in Antarctica, during a storm, taking whiskey breaks with my friends.  I smiled, even laughed, and happily continued on. 

    As we methodically retraced our steps down the steep precicpe, our friend Shuyler who had spent the entire year here prior announced that it was penguin time and jumped onto his bellow sliding down the mountain at a fast speed narrowly missing rocks and ledges.  Emboldened, we did the same.  What took two hours to summit took us about 5 minutes to get down.  Another good night.

    Last night I organized a far bolder endeavor as we hiked the three 3 miles during the night to an emergency shelter simply known as the apple.  High on the plateau behind the mountains, it was vintage Antarctica.  Flat and white as far as the eye can see.  epic.   We shared some wine and spirits and laughed hard and often, even enjoyed a bit of wrestling with the mates.  Such is this place, a place of wonder and freedom.

What will tomorrow bring?  who knows, but what matters is that I will be saying yes to it.

Fortitudinine Vinciumus  [By Endurance We Conquer-  Shackletons Motto]

Follow the link to you tube to watch

 

http://youtu.be/J7NLKIJ9TAc

August 20, 2011,

      I find myself curiously comfortable in such an unusual place.  And so it begins.

      After having spent several days in rubble strewn Christchurch after several earthquakes, I have arrived with an special appreciation for the fragility of life.  And after have flown on the US airforce c-17 across the southern Antarctic Sea and over the Weddel I am equally reminded of how much we rely on technology and indebted to those marvelous men and women who opertate the flying testaments to the human imagination.

       Donning our extreme cold weather gear during the flight, our captain informed us that we were near our destination, that the temperature was -45, and that we should deal with it.  With hearts pounding with excitement, the payload door opened  and we stepped out into the last true frontier on the earth, Antarctica at last.

      A sea of white in all directions amidst an unpolluted sky of orange, I found myself home.  Today, teh sun rose for the first time during the 7 month Antarctic darkness breaking the veil of winter, if only for a moment.  Even then, it rose just below the horizon teasing us with its light and within a few hours it was gone again.

      At last, a place unmarred by mans tyrranous appetite to exploit and conquer.  The great last wild that deserves our deepest respect and reverence.  A place where life and death is measured in a single mistake, a wrong piece of clothing or one step in the wrong direction into an abyss of white.  One is keenly aware of this savage beauty.  At -45 the cold is fierce attacking any small opening of you.  It is ruthless.

Loaded into a 1950′s delta, think rolling box with tank tracks, we slowly lumbered to our sliver of humanity- McMurdo Station- Population 298.

    No time to explore yet- we mostly set up our dorms and quickly passed out.  Tomoorow I will start work.  And the adventure begins!.

it’s been a few days since my last entry and a lot has taken place. I was in Denver for a few days at the headquarters for Raytheons polar services. the days were spent in meetings going over topics on how not to die in 90 below zero to my health benefits. More importantly I’ve been able to meet and spend time with my crew, a fabulous bunch. They remind me of thru hikers quite a bit.
I’m now in Christchurch new Zealand after several long flights and tomorrow I will be outfitted with myw extreme cold weather gear. It’s also been eye opening to see first hand how badly damaged christchurch was during their big earthquake not too long ago. There in good spirits though.

So much to say, so little energy. From what I’ve been hearing from all thet returnees, I am in for one epic adventure. I’ll save all the good stuff for later!

M next entry will be from thet ice in 3 days.

Cheers.

I’m at the airport about to embark on then first of many flights. After all, getting to antarctica isn’t exactly. Easy. for those curios, it involves flying to Christchurch new Zealand for 12 hours, a few days of gear outfitting, then a military c130 for another ten hourds lashed to a bulk head.c did I mention the plane has skis to land? I will post many pictures soon. The next days will be hectic, filled with terrible and overpriced everything at airports, but it shall be worth it. It took Shackleton more than 7months just to get to the continent, but it will only take me about 24 hours. No complaints here.

I’ll post again in a day or two!

And rememeber shakletons family motto ” fortitudine Vincimus” By endurance we conquer.

If you don’t know who earnest Shackleton is, google it!amazing!

Oh yeah Jesika knowles is super cool.
And please let me tell you that I know to spell, but autocorrect is um, the worst. I went to college I promise you.

Its only been in the last few days that I’ve begun to realize that I will be living in Antarctica.  With only 10 days left, my days have been filled with packing, lots of tedious tasks, and mostly enjoying what little time I have left of things like the sun, warmth, and freedom to do as I please.  This weekend I also had my official going away party with a certified penguin cake and my dearerst friends and family to cheer me on.

As many of you know, going to Antarctica has always been my favorite place to go to, but not anyone can just visit, which makes it so special.  I wanted to go because I knew I’d be in the footsteps of some of histories most brave and daring men, my hero’s.  I will live where Shackleton and his men have lived.   I will experience the Antarctic winter as did Amuundsen and his team more than a century ago.  I will reside where the height of exploration peaked and in the same breath died in many ways.  The last continent, the forgotten continent, this will be my home.  It is truly, the last frontier.

The countdown has begun, but am I ready?  Probably not, but thats part of the adventure too.  Jump in and go.