Skiing to the South Pole in 59 days : Ray & Jenny Jardine

Day 21: Three Weeks, One-Third of the Distance

Dec 1, 2006

This morning's wind report: South (directly on the nose) blowing 30 knots.

One thing that makes expeditions in Antarctica so cold is there is no natural shelter from the wind. No cars to get into and turn on the heater, no homes and warm offices. When you emerge from your tent and pack it away for the day, you are on your own, as far as the cold winds are concerned.

Fortunately our clothes are working well. We made all our clothes except the mittens and socks. Actually we made mittens and socks too, but they are in our half way point resupply.

Skiing in a ground blizzard.

The afternoon winds reduced to 20, and we spent a pleasant afternoon climbing the next hill. This hill was gradually sloped, only 300 feet in 7 miles, but for some reason it felt like Annapurna. When we reached its crest we had stunning views back the way we had come.

The wind has lessened somewhat and we are enjoying a standing lunch of cold granola.

We talked with Peter McDowell back at Patriot Hills Base Camp. Peter is part owner of the company and also one of the nicest guys imaginable, and also very knowledgeable. (Everybody we met that works for this company is very nice and helpful.)

Anyway, Peter said that he and the staff back at Base Camp are impressed with our progress. That was encouraging to hear and much appreciated.

Jenny's thigh and blisters of frostbite. I have these too, but not quite as numerous. We got these early in the trip, and the blisters are very slow to heal - probably because we keep re-freezing them during the high-wind days.

For the record, we have been going for three weeks now, and we have come one-third of the distance to the Pole.

Evening camp: S 83° 26.336' W 83° 33.085'

Today's mileage: 13.4 in 9.5 hrs

Day 22: Playing in the Junkyard, Part 2

Dec 2, 2006

Those who are following our saga: "blindfolded in the junkyard" may be glad to know we have another practice session for you. And for those who graduated from the last practice session, we are taking things to the next level by asking you to wear skis this time (no more slacking) and also dragging a sled. If you don't have a sled, a large tire will do.

A sled or tire will increase the cardio workout, of course, but its main function is to stop you every chance it gets when it hangs up on every shelf, every hole, and every sastrugi blocking the way. Remember: you are blindfolded and cannot see any of these things. See photo. And unlike previous junkyard sessions, this one will last all day.

"Playing in the junkyard" on our way to the South Pole. In a white out, you can see your partner and your sleds. And in certain conditions you can see the snow up to 12 to 18 inches away from your sled. This is because the light reflected from the sled is different from the ambient light. Hard to imagine, but the terrain around your feet, and ahead, is invisible. So you don't know what you will run into, or off of, next.

We made very slow progress, only 10.9 miles in 9.25 hours. I led all day, until 3:30 p.m., because we're finding that I have a good sense of direction in white out conditions.

Jenny: On the other hand I become horribly disoriented, and I can't even follow my own ski tips.

In retrospect, I should have equipped Jenny with a small gimbaling compass mounted on a support in front of her, where she could keep an eye on it. This is actually common practice with many polar adventurers. We each wear a compass mounted on our jacket sleeve, and I don't need to refer to mine all that often.

With Jenny following resolutely behind, I skied slowly by feel alone, using the ski poles to help judge the terrain. This is not so bad as it sounds. Actually I had a wonderful morning, experiencing the sensory deprivation, which allows all sorts of good thoughts to come streaming in.

Looks pretty clear ahead ... BAM!

But by afternoon I was beginning to tire, because of the constant job of maintaining balance. About 3:30 p.m. the horizon became visible, and Jenny took the lead from there.

The white out is dissipating, so Jenny takes the lead after a very tiring day.

Just before quitting time, the white out began to dissipate, and we could see that we were in a very difficult area of sastrugi. It looked like no-man's land. But we found a nice campsite, and as usual it felt good to get inside the tent, get comfortable, and warm up with steaming cuppas.

Evening camp: S 83° 35.788' W 83° 38.163'

Today's mileage: 10.9 in 9.25 hrs

Day 23: The otherworldly Glowing Blue Light

Dec 3, 2006

The first we do in morning, after using the peeing cups, is to light the stove and melt more snow for drinking water. Typically, in the evening we had melted eight liters, including hot cuppas and dinner. Then at night we drink a great deal to help rehydrate. So by morning we have run out of water, and have to melt four more liters to meet our needs throughout the day.

We are presently using 425 ml of stove fuel per day, for two people. (212.5 ml per person, per day.)

So this morning we rose at 6:00 am and started melting snow, and mopping the tent walls. The condensation wasn't too bad this morning. We are having less condensation in the tent all the time. No more morning showers, as long as we are careful.

It takes us 2.5 hours from rising to skiing, including an hour melting snow. Meanwhile we are getting dressed, with an additional 45 minutes to finish dressing and putting things away. Then another 45 minutes to load the sleds and pack away the tent.

The only problem we have, and it isn't much of a problem, but it happens every day while pitching the tent in the evening and un-pitching it the next morning, is that a certain two tent pole segments freeze together. It happens on the same two pole segments above where we use the stove. To unfreeze them, we have to rub them vigorously with our gloves on, to create thawing friction.

We pack the tent away without removing the poles from the sleeves. This makes a five-foot long sausage that fits nicely in my sled. This greatly facilitates pitching it again the following evening.

As we gain altitude, the temperature is dropping. Tonight we are at almost 4,800 feet, and the temperature is -26 degrees C. The temperature doesn't vary from night to day because the sun stays above the horizon 24 hours.

Today the sun was shining, and the wind was 15 out of the SSE. We spent the day galumphing through the sastrugi which makes skiing and sledging twice as difficult. Added to that, the cold temperature increased the friction of the sled runners on the snow, making it often feel like we were dragging in sand.

Thankfully we are not playing in the junkyard today, because some of the sastrugi is quite large.

In a white out, getting through something like that would require a great deal of time and effort. You can't see the way around, so you have to go through. But sometimes that doesn't work, and you have to find a way around - by feel.

Again the skiing looks pretty straightforward, until you look at my tracks. What appears to be somewhat flat ground is actually a series of ridges and deep cleavages. My skis and sled runners are hitting only the high points, what few they are. It's like skiing over a cattle guard that has 18 inch spacing between the rails.

We were sledging along and suddenly saw something glowing in the distance. It was so odd that we had to make a bee-line for it, to see what it was. It looked otherworldly, like something from outer space. We wondered how could something be glowing like that. As we drew near, we could now see what it was, a sastrugi with the sunlight playing through at just the right angle. But we still couldn't quite grasp it. This was the first color in the natural world we had seen since starting the trip 23 days ago. We just stood there staring at it for several minutes. Talk about sensory deprivation, when something like that can draw us in, like a magnet. Like flying insects are drawn to a street lamp.

We alternated leads for an hour each. In the afternoon the wind increased to 20, so we couldn't take a sit-down break all day because of the wind-chill factor.

After 10 hours we were glad to stop for the day, and to take welcome shelter inside the tent.

The inside my face mask, covered in ice. To take the mask off, I have to kneel over the stove with my face just above the stove, to melt enough ice to permit removal. The ice doesn't touch my skin, but my hair and beard are firmly embedded.

A crown popped out this evening. With no access to a dentist, I will have to wait. Fortunately, it didn't cause any pain, but I will have to be careful with the chewing.

Evening camp: S 83° 47.633' W 83° 58.4944'

Today's mileage: 13.9 in 10 hrs

Altitude: 4,797'; Temperature: -26C

Day 24: A Packman Game

Dec 4, 2006

Today we are progressing beyond the beginner junkyard, to the intermediate level with the addition of a frigid south wind blowing at 20 mph and a black, stormy sky. Yes, and the white out.

Making our way in white out conditions.

Hard to imagine, but Jenny can't see what's around her feet. In a white out, you can see your partner ok, and the snow around them, and your sleds and the snow around them. But nothing else. The terrain around your own feet is essentially invisible.

Jenny: And like the Packman game, no matter which way you turn, the sastrugi is there to get you. In fact, I had one particular spill where the sastrugi nearly ate me for lunch, and I needed Ray's help to get me extricated. Are we having fun yet?

During the morning we took hourly turns leading, but Ray took over leading throughout the afternoon after my nasty fall.

After each spill I would pick myself up with a grunt, look ahead to Ray, who waited patiently, and resolve not to fall down again. Ray has not slipped once. He is so solid on his skis, even while maneuvering through the giant sastrugi.

After 8 hours, Ray suggested we quit early. He knew I was tired and I appreciated his concern. But where would we find a flat spot for the tent amidst this white out chaos? True to form, Ray skied right up to a perfect spot and declared us home for the day.

Home for the evening.

Taking a wind reading for the daily call to Base Camp.

Ray: The conditions are particularly challenging this year, and I'm sure all the other expeditions will have their stories as well. With the strong, near-constant headwinds, and the deeply pockmarked terrain, we are certainly getting our moneys worth. Normally, with fairly flat terrain, a white out is merely a inconvenience. But a white out in deep and ubiquitous sastrugi is another matter altogether.

"I have fleeting moments where I think this is outrageous, but the vast majority of time I am enjoying this trip to the max."

Jenny is new to ski trips and winter camping, so she is on the learning curve and doing extremely well.

I too have my fleeting moments where I think this is outrageous, but the vast majority of time I am enjoying this trip to the max. Skiing to the South Pole has long been a dream of mine, and I am just so pleased to have the opportunity to be here. The harsh conditions are just part of the job description.

In these last three weeks we are adapting well, although every day brings new challenges. So we are both on a steep learning curve. Regardless of the conditions, Jenny is always the first one out of the tent in the morning, and I haven't heard one word of complaint the entire trip. As far as adventurers are concerned, she is absolutely top-rate. Her grit and determination have to be seen to be believed, and I see it every day.

Smile for the camera.

Evening camp: S 83° 55.670' W 84° 02.095'

Today's mileage: 9.3 in 8 hrs

Temperature: -12C

Day 25: The Vision Must be Kept

Dec 5, 2006

ay and I were on our way by 7:30 am, and to our delight we could actually see where we were going. No more white out. The cloud cover was just starting to lift and break up, and ahead on the horizon to the south were several gaps in the clouds with a pale blue sky beckoning to us and giving us an easy target to steer by.

A mushroom sastrugi and another blue glow, but not as distinct this time. I came to refer these mushroom sastrugis as "Ducks" because of the bill on the windward end.

We found the going a bit easier today. Not that the sastrugi was any less, but because we could pick our way through it and avoid the giant heaps and pits.

The person leading constantly scans the snowy surface ahead and chooses the best way: left here around that mound, a bit right here so as to ski over this smooth street, and so on.

We're headed for our mid-point resupply at the Thiels mountains. That looks like them ahead, but I think the light is playing tricks, bending the light and lifting the mountains above the horizon before their time. We are still seven days away, and in retrospect, we won't see them again for another three days.

By early afternoon we had patches of blue overhead, and for the first time in several days, sunshine. Also for the first time we had stratocumulus clouds, rather than the usual streaky cirrus.

"The vision must be kept, for it does not shine brightly by itself."

At one of our brief rest stops, Ray told me about a climbing film he watched several dozen times in Yosemite. His favorite line from the film went something like this: "The vision must be kept, for it does not shine brightly by itself." This certainly is true with any endeavor, but especially for us here in Antarctica, as we slowly make our way to the pole.