Easy Dreaming
Temps: -30 C / -22 F
WC: -43 C / -45 F
Winds: 11 kts
Pole: -62 C / -80 F
I’ve always been blessed/cursed with pretty specific and real-feeling dreams. I’ll wake up laughing or sobbing, terrified of some creature that’s been chasing me, or raging against some poor family member who hasn’t really done anything wrong and can’t help it that my subconscious has been offended by them. Here, everyone has them. Something about the all-day or all-night thing causes folks to either toss and turn all night, wake up at 3 am and never get back to sleep, or dream in crazy-style. A couple recent ones:
1: I was back in Chicago with my friends, enjoying their company. I believe we were coming back home from eating at Garcia’s (since that’s what we are usually doing), and there was a full moon. I tried to explain to them how the moon looks in the southern hemisphere and how everything is reversed. Then, I burst into tears because I wasn’t here anymore. I couldn’t understand how I’d gotten home so quickly and had forgotten to say goodbye to everyone here, to the mountains, to the upside-down moon, to Ivan and the Deltas. When I woke up, still in tears, it took me about ten seconds to figure out where I was, but it was a real nice feeling to realize that I was glad to still be here.
#2: Someone in my life (she seemed to be a good friend in my dream, but I didn’t recognize her from my real world) had had a baby, but it was real small and had to live in a box. The box was padded at the bottom, kind of like a jewelry box, but about six inches long and maybe an inch and a half wide, and it was uncovered. The baby was strapped down on the padding with a little red ribbon so it was comfortable and wouldn’t fall out. So, I really wanted to take the baby out, but the mom seemed uncomfortable with this idea. Basically, I told her to chillax and started untying. I don’t know. I really wanted to hold Tiny Box Baby in my hand. However, in trying to untie the thing, it flipped over and suffocated on the padding. In, like, one second flat. So, then I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to tell Possibly Friend Mom that I’ve just killed Tiny Box Baby. While also thinking that having a Tiny Box Baby that can suffocate at any given moment is a ridiculous thing to carry around. And also thinking this is why I can’t be trusted around anything of the living variety.
You’ll Be Shocked, I Know.
Temp: -4 C / +25 F
WC: -12 C / +10 F
Winds: 10-15 kts
I got lost.
I’ll give you time to sit down and compose yourself.
Oh, I also lost my fancy sunglasses. There, that’ll really stop your poor, cold heart.
To proceed. First, about the glasses. Frankly, I’m amazed I had them for this long. They were fancy and made me feel cool. And they even came with a prescription. They cost a lot of money, but The People reimbursed me for them. Otherwise, I’d never have purchased them. There are a couple of things that, even in adulthood, I’m not really allowed to do, for my own benefit. One is purchasing cheese. Just best to not go down that slippery slope. The other is purchasing glasses, gloves, or any sort of jewelry that retails for more than $10. My retinas burned for about two days until OJ gave me an extra pair of his. I’m just waiting for the store to open. I saw a $9.99 pair that has my name on it.
Here’s the one where I might not have made it home alive: So, I have five Air National Guards in the back of my Delta (not a euphemism), and I am on the Road to Pegasus. The long one. The roads have gotten a lot cleaner and it’s now taking us about 35-40 minutes each way, if all goes well. We stage at the opposite end until the top of the next hour, then return; the roundtrip, then, takes about 95 minutes. Me on Sunday: four hours. And mostly, I blame OJ, because we traded shifts. That was supposed to be my day off.
Everything started out okay, until I reached the bottom of Scott Base Hill and thought, “hmm…it sure is all one color out here.” No bother, I can still see three or four flags in front of me. I feel safe and it should be a decent ride still. I’d been going about fifteen minutes when the flags stopped. They’d been sort of petering out on one side, but that’s what happens when changes are being made to the roads every day. I could see three just to my right in a little cluster and they picked up again somewhere ahead of me. But in between was a massive snow drift and I knew I’d get stuck if I went ahead. I curved my vehicle around just a little bit and stopped. This is where I went wrong. By the time I stopped, climbed down the ladder, and told the guys in back what was going on, I had no idea which direction I had been coming from. There was white all around us, and even the guys (some of whom are in there 15th year here) couldn’t recognize anything.
Happily, my radio was working, and the dispatcher (Sideways Meghan over at the Shuttle Ops Office), Firehouse, and finally the Search and Rescue Team were all called to scramble to find me. After a few minutes, though, we were pretty sure we could figure out which direction we’d come in from, but we were commanded to “not move anywhere” and to “stay in the vehicle” until someone came to lead us out. Which was all fine and good, except that after 75 minutes, we hadn’t seen anyone who was remotely interested in finding us.
Best radio exchange of the evening:
Firehouse: Mxxxxx, can you give me your exact GPS coordinates?
Me: Um, we obviously haven’t met.
At minute 76, S&R finally said, “Hey, do you think you could actually just retrace your steps out of there?” You mean, like I’ve been asking to be able to do all night? Yes. Yes, I do.
We weren’t that far off the mark, which is why I’m still more than a little concerned nobody was able to find us after that long. We continued our way to Pegasus, only having to stop to figure out where the road was two more times.
It was bogus. But someone from the flight tower did bring me a candy bar down and asked me if I was okay. I didn’t cry, but I did have several ounces of that bourbon I’ve been hoarding.
The Wildlife: And There’s Video!
Put your clubs away, people. It’s time for a close-up look at a baby seal.
Shuttle Joe and I were packing the road to Pegasus. And no, that is NOT a euphamism. We each were in our Deltas, driving slowly back and forth to try and get the snow packed down from a not-so-friendly powdery substance into more of a flat, icy surface. We had stopped to confer as it wasn’t working so well.
Joe: “Oh, and you know, I saw a little baby seal just right over there.”
Me: “Um. Do you think we better go take a look and bring our cameras?”
Joe: “You know. I think we’d better.”
Shuttle Joe will celebrate his 81st birthday on Ice. He is a farmer in Illinois, about three hours south of Chicago, and he’s invited me to come visit and stay with him and his wife of 55 years any time. This is his third year to come down to Antarctica, and we’re hoping he gets a boondoggle (special non-working trip people receive if they’ve done a good job or are just sleeping with the right people) to the South Pole this year. That particular boondoggle is called a “Sleigh Ride,” and they give them out if there’s a plane going to Pole and any seats are filled. You basically fly there and have 30 minutes to run around the actual Pole, take a hero shot, and get back on the plane. And by “hero shot,” I mean naked. And by “naked,” I mean HR works overtime when these shots get posted to the public drive. As you might imagine, it’s a highly coveted and secretive operation. The boondoggle, not the naked photos.
Joe is a pleasure and a delight, and he has the best mustache on campus.
The only other bit of wildlife one might see down here with any sort of frequency is a Skua (pronounced SKOO-uh). It looks like a really big-headed, fat seagull.
And they are dirty little birds. The first time I saw one, I was walking out of the office, carrying back some leftover pizza to the Galley:
Me: [stopping in my tracks, looking up] “Is that a…bird?”
Kelly: “Oh my god, girl. You better RUN!”
Me: “AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”
These effers will totally divebomb you for some food. They will eat anything, and they will take it from your cold, dead hands. Then, they will pluck out your eyeballs. Guys will stand out on the balconies of some of the dorms that look out over the dumps of the galley and take pictures of poor girls, meals in hand, being attacked. It is hilarious and horribly, horribly disgusting.
Still no penguin sightings by yours truly. But don’t worry. EVERYONE else has seen them. I just get divebombed by rats with wings.
But I did see that sweet baby seal. I hope it found it’s mama.
We Celebrate Pagan Holidays Here
Temp: -12 C/ +10 F
WC: -20 C/ -4 F
Storm and snow expected for tomorrow…
Here are a few pictures from Halloween. I kind of hate this particular holiday. As a kid, that was about the time I’d come down with strep throat and 105 degree fevers and my dad and sister would do my candy begging for me. Now, I just don’t enjoy dressing up on my off-time. I also am not such a big fan of large numbers of drunk people, especially when said people are Dudes Dressed Up As “Women” and Girls Dressed Up As “Slutty ________.” Why hold off? Everyone knows this is what you want to wear every day. Just go ahead and do it. But, I was told Ice Halloween is the biggest party of the year, so I began mentally preparing months ago and had a great time. Also I made a hat.
Where in the World IS Carmen Sandiego?
Antarctica, apparently. Seriously, I made that hat!
The winners of the costume contest…The #1 medical condition at McMurdo: Blue Balls. I think they won a helicopter trip to the Dry Valleys, one of the world’s most “extreme deserts,” which should be pretty boss.
Me, Lyle, Jim and Miller, all from the Shuttles Team. Lyle and Miller have been BFFs since high school and wanted to quit their jobs and have an adventure together. They decided on Mac Town because Lyle’s older brother has spent a couple seasons here. We call them “The Twins” or “The Girls,” and they are delightful. Jim is in his third season and is starting his first full year here. He was an accountant in Chicago for two years before he remembered how awful that was and moved to Antarctica. Then, he spends his off-Ice time travelling the world. Definitely sounds better than doing strangers’ taxes. I am the only one wearing my real hair.
My GBF on Ice, Michael Brooks. He’s also going for a winter-over position. Either way, I’m going to try and get him to move to Chicago.
This sort of evening is more my style…If I am feeling like “a night on the town,” I’ll go to the Coffee House, which is one of our three bars nearby (i.e., within 50 feet. There’s a fourth over hill at the Kiwi’s Scott Base, but we’re only allowed over on Thursday Nights). The Coffee House is very lodge-like, where they have board games, live music, and a gentle vibe. Oh yes, and coffee. And wine. No beer. Some pictures of a recent night of “Soooooooorrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!.”
With Brooks, Brody, and Meg, three of my favorites on The Island. Brody is my half-marathon endorser/trainer, as well as master smoothie maker. Meg is a master skiier and just got into her first choice for nursing school, so she’ll be leaving us at Christmas. Boo.
Proof. I am not a loser.
Oh yes, and just a couple more nice “I’m really here!” shots. At the top of T-Site with Ob Hill in the distance. I came up here to drop off some tech guys who are getting the equipment ready to begin installing wind turbines. Neat!
Yep, everything’s pretty much just white.
Beasts of the South Pole
Since we can’t bring animals here, the vehicles and equipment kind of become our pets. They don’t provide a lot of love and affection, but they do piddle on the carpet and eat your plants (hey).
It helps to have a stubborn chin when driving around in these suckers.
I haven’t driven any of the ones on tracks yet…most of the trucks have them, and I’m told they’re very uncomfortable to ride in. They get their own special lane because they tear up the roads so badly.
Ivan and The Deltas waiting to pick up the passengers coming in on the C-17. Ivan is the largest vehicle on the continent, holding 64. There is a patch you can buy at the store here if you join The Ivan Club. Don’t know personally, but I have heard tales. The Deltas hold about 20 people in the back, 3 in the cab. You have to drive them very slowly because it’s so dizzying for the people in the back. On my first ride, we had to pull over for someone barfing. A Brit, of course.
Inside Ivan. Nice and peaceful before the Pax get in. Then it gets rowdy.
I don’t even know what this one does.
Deltas in the Sun.
Alien Automobile?
The C-17 approaches, and it is massive. It has to circle back and forth 3 times to slow it down enough before it can land. Then, it takes a full 3 minutes to come to a complete stop once it meets the Ice Runway. And they do it with such grace, you can’t even feel it inside the plane. Considering some of the landings I’ve had on commercial, it’s an amazing feat.
The Pax arrive and we take them on into Mac Town for debriefing and room assignments. And hot chocolate.
The Baslers. These smaller planes go out to Pole and to some of the other smaller Field Sites that require something larger than a helicopter. More of these get cancelled than go because the weather is still too bad at Pole. One got all the way there before the weather suddenly shifted, then “boomeranged,” and they had to come all the way back. Nobody wants to be the guy picking the Pax up after a boomerang. They are very crotchety.
The warming huts. These can be moved around on sleds to wherever is convenient. Called Tomatoes or Apples, but I think they look like Ladybugs.
My first time driving Ivan with actual passengers on board. They applauded me when I made the “Unnatural Turn,” which is basically a 90-degree turn on an impossibly narrow road coming right into town. I only lost one or two people on that one. Brits, of course.
Obligatory Photo Op.
Big Blue Crane way at the top of T-Site Hill. It’s rare to get to go up there, but I dropped off some of the crew there on a Taxi run. They’re installing wind turbines and getting everything ready to get started.
Loader: “I’M BIG!”
Loader’s Little Friend: “i’m little!”
Athlete’s Foot? Or Something Worse?
Temp: -16 C/ +3 F
Wind Chill: Same, Calm
Most folks at McMurdo work 10 hours a day and have one day off per week. The Shuttles drivers work 12 hour days, so we get 2 days off per week. Mine, for the moment, are Sundays and Thursdays, but we’ll change everything up in about 5 1/2 weeks and then I might have to go to working nights. Which I wouldn’t mind, except that I’ve seen my Shuttles friends who have transitioned to nights in recent days, and they look…older than they did. The sun is still shining at night, but it’s definitely colder, and the crazy seems to come out a little bit more.
Anyway, on Sunday, I hung out with This Guy. Super cool and positive force of a world traveler, and this is his third season on Ice. He’s a marathoner and our conversation went something like this…
Brody: I’m training for the Antarctic Marathon again. Do you like to run?
Me: Um, no.
Brody: Why not?
Me: Because it’s boring, sweaty and painful. And I can find a lot of other things to do with my time that are none of those things. Why would anyone want to run a marathon here?
Brody: Because it’s a challenge and you’re in a whole new place and you should try new things.
Me: Arrgh.
In the span of a few hours, when our only plan was for me to learn to play Cribbage, Brody and his Jedi Mind Control talked me into at least considering, if not outright doing the following things:
Agreeing to train for the Half Marathon, to take place to January;
Consider being a Winterover and staying for the full year; and
Eating Kiwis (the fruit, not the scientist) with the skin on.
The Kiwi was delicious. I am looking into whether there are even any positions open that I might be at all qualified for. For the 3 or 4 of you who would be upset about this, fear not…it’s a longshot and I’ll be seeking your thoughts about it and advice before signing any dotted lines. The process just has to start now if I’m even considering it. More on that later. Which brings me to the running…
I Hate. And Despise. Running. But Brody used the magical “trying new things” tactic. So, this week is my first week of training. Three runs in so far, 2.5 miles each, which took me about 30 minutes. Definitely not great, and I am decidedly NOT enjoying myself. But, I made a deal.
All of which is to say that there is something horrifying going on with my feet. It could be the communal showers, but I wear flip-flops. It could be the fact that my boots leak. It could be the aliens. Nevertheless, it is gross and foul and not good at all, and I don’t know what to do about it.
Difficulty on Ice
A brief description of why I can’t find anything here…
Lunchtime
And this was on a slow day.
I Touched Something Gross
On Sundays at 2pm, we yokels can get tours of Crary Lab, which is where the smartypants scientists hang out and do smartypants scientist things. During the tour, I pretty much had no idea what they were talking about. I recognized words such as “volcano” and “ice” and “acid reflux,” but that was pretty much the extent of it. I got real excited when they said “touch tank,” because everyone knows how dirty those scientists are.
These are some of the creatures the divers (hey) have been collecting from the water around here (underneath the 12,000 feet of ice).
Giant Isopod
Because I’m a lady, I did get his name before I picked him up. It was Fred.
Some Crazy Spider
Not my hands. I do not hold spiders. Particularly freaky red spiders that could potentially kill me. It’s just a rule I have.
First few days…
It’s Sunday morning here at McMurdo, and all the little boys and girls are excited because they have the day off and get to come over to the galley for Sunday brunch. 10-1pm. There, the food selection gets a bit better and a bit more grandiose, as compared to the normal meal here. Also, and more importantly, the coffee is a delectable “Sunday Special” French Roast. mmmmmmm. Most folks are dressed in their jammies, and many will go back to sleep and return to fill up another plate before it closes up. I filled up a tupperware of cheese and fruit. The fruits and vegetables have to be flown in from New Zealand, and, as many flights in have been cancelled due to Category 2 or even 1 storms, the “freshies” go quickly. You learn to grab them, store them in whatever container is handy, and retreat to a small, dark corner in your small, dark room before anyone can suss you out.
Here are a few of the pictures I’ve taken in this first week of travelling in New Zealand and Antarctica. Enjoy…
The Dogs do All the Driving
I only had a few hours to actually walk around in Christchurch, but I always feel that, when in a foreign country, it’s important to learn what we have in common and what sets us apart. In New Zealand, the dogs are much more advanced, and actually do all the driving.
Doesn't have anything on the Mashburns
This is a bust of one of the original Antarctic explorers. I thought his profile was very impressive. He’s probably related to the Mashburns somehow, and I thought this would make my dad feel better.
First View
My first view of the new continent, from a tiny little window on board the C-17 plane that took us at 0500 hours from Christchurch to Ross Island.
Inside the C-17
I didn’t really enjoy seeing the innards of this giant plane carrying us over the ocean. But they did give us lots of snacks and earplugs.
Just Before Landing
The Little Rat was not quite as nervous as she looked. Just before landing when we all had to put on every bit of our ECW (Extreme Cold Weather) Gear.
Just After Landing
Hooray! The C-17 “McChord” is in the background. Just after, we were herded onto vans, deltas and airporters, taking us to our new homes at McMurdo.
Mt. Erebus
The most southerly active volcano; she’s usually covered in fog, but you can see her clearly today as she competes with this tractor in smoke exhalation.
11:30pm in Antarctica
The sun does set, but just barely, and this is about how dark it gets.
McMurdo from Above
How the Americans set up shop.
Mt. Discovery
My favorite of the mountains, Discovery.
Scott Station - The Kiwis
And, how the Kiwis set up shop. It’s the little neat and tidy cluster of mint green buildings in the background. On Thursday nights, they host “American Night” where they open up their store and bar to us at McMurdo and we try not to embarrass ourselves.
live from the ice 