Wow!

Has it really been over a year and a half since I posted? How to catch up?  Have to catch up? Maybe it will all be a little out of order, but here goes...

On the road, In the air

McMurdo Helo Ops - Best ride in town.

This is what their patches claim and I have yet to argue. I have been very fortunate this season to get a chance to travel out to several field camps in the surrounds of McMurdo. Antarctica from the air is quite an experience whether out the window of a C-17, C-130, or from the great hovering and spinning magic carpet ride that helo ops offers. I had never ridden in a helicopter before working in McMurdo, and now that I have ridden in them quite a few times, the magic never wears off. A lot of human inginuity and combustible fuel allow us to travel in the realm of storybook imagination, what was once merely creative vision is now (and has been for some time) a reality of transportation, often taken for granted from afar, but somehow endlessly captivating to be involved in.

Some of the nooks and crannies of Ross Island from high in the sky.
Lots of marine and seal grantees call these smaller islands home.

For science in Antarctica, transportation is the name of the game, and as much as any of us are carpenters, divers, dining attendants, or physicists we are dominated by the logistics of how we can do what we do while we are here. In old times expeditions were measured in years instead of months or weeks, travel by ski or dog was the norm, and the samples collected along the way literally weighed heavy on the backs of some who didn't even make it out alive.

These three folks made it out alive, but not without persisting through
enough bad weather to play 22 games of checkers.

Today we zip down here in commercial jets, with air-force support, fly around the continent in dependable (fairly) planes, and explore the nooks and crannies in a moment's notice from the helicopter.

Two trips I have taken this season brought me farther into the dry valleys than I had ever been before, and to the highest heights of the volcanic island we reside on. These trips are all taken at the beginning of the season to "Open" these sights. This involves ensuring life support (stoves, buildings) is functional, fixing problems we find with the structures, and sometimes, Lots and Lots of shoveling

Two views from the same spot on Mt. Newell. On the left the Wright Valley and Lake Vanda - fed by the Onyx Stream. On the right, a very different reality of pure glacier on the way to the antarctic plateau.

My trip to open the huts at Bull Pass and Mt. Newell took me over some beautiful areas and to the top of a mountain with a view spanning mountain ranges, the ice plateau, the Ross Ice Shelf, the open water of the southern ocean, and of course our little town down on the tip of Ross Island, in the shadow of the great Mt Erebus.

CTBT site in the foreground

Bull Pass consists of two small huts. One is for small bands of Geologists to utilize and the other is one of several CTBT (Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty) sites on the continent. It is a self-supporting monitoring station with it's finger to the seismic wind deep in the granite below. Along with over 100 counterparts, it helps sense possible nuclear bomb tests all over the world. Amazing! I found this website interesting when I looked to learn more about this:

www.ctbto.org

Lake Vanda and the sand dunes of the Victoria Valley which border the lake.

A fly over of lake Vida to photograph conditions for a future camp brought us into the next valley, and to the conclusion of our work for the day.

Mt Erebus puffs away silently above New Zealand's Scott Base.

At 12,500 Ft. Mt Erebus makes Ross Island the 6th tallest island in the world. That's right, we sit on a hot spot! (who would have guessed?)

With a relative altitude of 13,600 at the Lower Erebus Hut, and ~14,000 at the rim it makes for qutie an adventure to open from sea level. Around here, things are not always how they appear on your topo map, and the cold cold air in the atmosphere lowers our air pressure to the degree that it ususally adds over 1000 feet to our physiological altitude.

A blind camera shot from the back seat!; Looking down, the landscape opens up quite literally. Crevasses like this one cover the island, but many are invisible.

The first to arrive at the hut after a winter of scouring winds, sulfurous air, and the ever-present drifting snow is an adventure worth bringing a shovel for. Luckily after the helo drops you and your equiptment off, and you catch your breath from unloading all of it, you get a chance to warm up digging steps into the snow berm to allow safe passage down to door level in the -30 degree warming October weather.

The huts are drifted up to their roofs on one side, and are slowly deteriorating from the scouring wind on the other. It speaks well to the impermanence of human impact.

Ok, ok it is only COMPLETELY buried on one side.
The wind scours the other side so much we can barely keep a coat of paint on it!

The only other sign of humanity in the area is a downed ship just a bit off to one side of the area around the huts. A coast guard Helicopter that got into some trouble up here decades ago.

Opening the huts involved lots of shoveling, firing stoves, shoveling, uncovering windows, shoveling, hanging weather insturments, shoveling, getting the solar panels out of the garage, shoveling, and a healthy dose of removing drifts from inside the buildings. It is really amazing how much snow accumulates blowing through the tiniest crack you can imagine.

The area around the hut is covered in rock outcrops thick with crystals
which solidify in the rocks that spew from the cone on occasion.

Fumurols dot the landscape as well as heat from the volcano melts away at the cold desert snow. Antarctica's humidifiers!

Mt Erebus is a quite unusual volcano. Check it out here!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Erebus

Antarctia III!

My third season this year began early, and will be my longest season to date. By February, when I leave, I will have spent six months on the ice.

Winfly, as it is commonly referred to, is a series of flights arriving at McMurdo as the winter darkness is first breached by light. The flights bring folks in early to get a head start on the regular season. For the Carp Shop this means preparing buildings for scientists who work the pre-season, building the season's supply of deep field camp furnishings, and preparing for the opening of the many field camps near McMurdo.

Deploying during Winfly comes along with the amazing opportunity to watch the world go from dark to light a matter of weeks. Every day is different. The sky glows different colors for hours at midday, the sun plays off the mountains a little different every day, and the crowds are still summering at home in the Norther Hemisphere.

The French Balloon project Concordiasi, deploying a new balloon.
They were our #1 priority at Winfly this year.

I have also gotten to witness a few more Antarctic firsts since I arrived in mid August. The two most impressed upon me have been the Souther Lights and Nacreous clouds.

I got a little story to tell with the Auroras, because a lot of folks did not get to see them this winfly for one reason or another. It begins on flight day. We were postponed once the day before, but on this particular day the Air Force was chomping at the bit to get us down there. They had been weather delayed and so were on a tight schedule to their next mission. We took off and flew down to Antarctica.

The ice was beautiful as we cruised slowly into the dimming light.

As we neared McMurdo, the C-17 banked hard to the left and we were informed that we were to boomerang. This means fly all the way back to Christchurch and try again another time. This happens periodically down here as the weather is very unpredictable and there is simply no where else to land. A long trip, but just something you have to live with working down here. We got back to the airport and instead of being escorted onto busses and back to our hotels, we switched crews, got a quick bite to eat, and got right back on the plane once it was refueled. Now this is exceptional. No one had ever heard of the double turn-around and it turned a long day into a really long day of flying. In the end we were on the plane for about 14-15 hours... I think...

Landing in McMurdo, we were all glad to be anywhere we could sleep comfortably. After the 40 minute bus ride into Mactown, we were told when to report to our briefing and set loose to find our rooms and get some sleep. Our bags would be there in an hour or so, but feel free to retrieve them in the morning. My bed was already made by my excellent roommate Storm, but I ventured out to grab a quick bite to eat at the midnight rations and then figured I might as well get my bags since I was still awake.

I wandered out into the familiar cold in the direction of the terminal, and low and behold a green ribbon of light was dancing around the sky. Only faint at first, as I walked around trying to find a dark spot, the Aurora really came to life. It is hard to describe what they look like outside of a dancing green ribbon of light. Like the night is waving it's long magic green scarf in slow but strong wind. Pretty cool. I am quite fortunate to have stayed up late, because I haven't seen another since.

What I did get to see for many days consecutively were the Nacreous clouds. Rainbow colored and high in the sky these clouds occur only in high latitudes and are typically seen as the sun is quite low to the horizon. They add quite a bit of magic to a day in the shop covered in sawdust. Everyone will pause their work and wander to the windows or outside with cameras to enjoy the view.

A good description of how these clouds occur:
http://www.atoptics.co.uk/highsky/nacr1.htm

Getting late on a school night, so I will have to leave you with two photos: The first is my first HDR shot. (High Dynamic Range). The second is the first balloon launched this season. Take care!

From New Zealand to Nebraska!

Sand Hill Cranes cruising to their night-time haven on the Platte River, NE

I suppose it has been a minute or two since I've written here. Write back! It encourages me to write more when I get to read too! So, here is an attempted FF catching up with my journal here... Hang on tight! Half a dozen entries all at once!

From New Zealand to Nebraska!

Angie and I left NZ together for the wide open sunsets of her home town Lincoln. Tickets in hand (expressively speaking), we realized I was leaving a day earlier - to meet Ang's parents for the first time, in a state I've never even been to before! Luckily, they are some wonderful folks and I got on with them immediately. I even ended up moving a couple hundred bails of hay before Angie even got back in the country! My first time in Nebraska – my first Runza (sandwich), my first Old Time (beer), and my first time to see the great migration of Sand Hill Cranes on the Platte River. This is an amazing migration that recurs every year in farmer's fields and river flats. Millions of birds. Everywhere. The book end of my Midwest visit included dozing with my new Nephew and running on and around a bunch of big Trains at the Transportation Museum with his big brother!

Big Boy, always a crowd pleaser, but the highlight as ever is the lady!; My nephew - clearly following in a long lineage of engineers.

Following NE, I made the pilgrimage home to family, friends and familiar places along the mid-atlantic (PA, VA, and NC). Farming, swimming, building, bicycling, and cooking and sharing food is always the highlight of my time and sharing this with the people I have known and loved the longest is the best. Keep warm and healthy this winter! I'm thinking of you!

Roadtrip!

Nebraska, South Dakota, Montana, Wyoming. The ten states I had not been to got whittled down to six this year. Partly through necessity, and partly for the sights, Angie and I made our way back to the summer hunting grounds of Lummi Island this year by automobile. We made stops at the world's largest hot spring, my first real live moose and buffalo, and a dinosaur my father slept under in his youth!

OK..., my father isn't that old. The dinosaur is a model; Sand Hills Beautiful

Yellowstone

On Island

Angie, Stew, and Loren keep Pig company on the beach before a day of fishing.

Ahhh. Yummi Lummi Island. Time moves so much slower on the island. 1 store, 1 speed limit (25), 1 restaurant, 1 Inn, and of course the last surviving culture of reef-net fisher-people.

Flying in the face of the Lummi pace, Angie and I began the season, with loads of help from the older fellas, setting up a gear start to finish. We hung most of a new net (a once in 25 years activity) , got the boats in the water, winches working, built the reef, and managed to do some Major repairs to a new cabin in order to move out of our tent! Craziest week in recent memory!

Here I help the Pacific Salmon Commission measure, tag, and sample a sockeye. They take readings on where each fish goes and how far upstream they make it; Another day on the fishing boat waiting... But waiting with my new wide angle lens! One of our several Bobs watches the fish TV under the sun protection of Umbrella. This is the latest and greatest Reef-net Technology!

The Sockeye Salmon run was amazing this year. The nets were heavy. The Pacific Salmon Commission increased the run estimate over and again, and some fishermen went home rich (for fishermen). In our spare time during this busy season... Angie and I bought an Airstream!

With a little love and some pruning equipment, we removed the coating of blackberry brambles and did a preliminary gutting. Next - the real deal of renovating a 1961 Airstream Camper! ()

Roger Granger gives a filleting lesson on the beach to a newbe; Angie wielding her pruners.

There she is! 28 ft long and tires still up to pressure!

All in all it was a great summer on Lummi again, although a short season for yours truly – this year I signed up for the winter flight to Antarctica – and though I pushed myself back onto the last flight, I still had to leave a couple of weeks before the season was through. Se la vie. I got to cheer on my reef-netting companions from afar as I made my way to the southern continent yet again, this time for the changing of seasons from dark to light.

Antarctic Ends / Kiwi Friends

Antarctic parting
Caves, fjords, sweet corn, paua, beach camp
Sought after home coming

Rewinding the memory a couple of months brings me back to Antarctica. At this point I've written and perhaps you may have read quite a bit here on the topic of great southern continent, but come the end of the season I'm left with heaps of untold stories and events. As it should be I suppose. Thought I now find myself two months off the ice and in the landscape of Raymond Nebraska, I still can't part with at least a couple of these events here.

the view from the Lake Bonney helipad; a stroll on Lake Hoare

The dry valleys. One last trip to this amazing place yielded exactly what I was desiring - a chance to explore. The dry valleys are an amazing landscape of mountains, glaciers, ice-covered lakes and just plain dirt. Not too many places down here supply accessible dirt. Tasked with removing some temporary buildings from the quickly melting lake ice, we planned for one night camping at Lake Hoare.

beautiful though it is, the melting lake ice top can make for some treacherous trekking

Due to difficulties resulting from the unstable lake ice on lake Fryxall, we garnered an extra night out of town, some wet overalls (mostly mine) , and a chance to take a stroll up the Taylor valley with some of our down time.

The hike was amazing and something I'll never forget. Across a frozen lake, up over a defile (the terminal end of a glacier butting into a mountain) and then up a steep track to a huge bench full of some of the most interesting rocks I've ever seen.

at the edge of life and along the way: native lichen and moss


beyond the edge: an 800 year cured mummified seal in it's final resting place; atop a wind hewn sculpture


rock imitates wind

As a finale to the season, I couldn't have asked for a better trip. Back to mactown for the busy season when the ice breaks up. Combine this with the annual visit from Oden - a Swedish icebreaker - and a channel is open all the way to McMurdo, allowing for our single resupply vessel and an oil tanker to make their deliveries.

helicopter's eye view of the sea ice breaking up, soon after these several foot thick chunks will blow out to sea and either melt or refreeze into the next round of annual sea ice; oil tanker in port delivering the jet fuel that most vehicles run on.



farewell! icy continent! from the flight deck of the Australian Antarctic Airbus






hello sunset in the NZ bush!

The end of the season is long awaited and we are all glad to find sunset and decent drinks on tap waiting for us in Christchurch. This year I also found a very special woman named Angie waiting at the airport for me! All the way from Lummi Island and Nebraska, for many months we kept in close touch and decided to meet in NZ and have a holiday here together.

We bought a car and hit the road, touring the south island, first beach hopping all the way down the east coast with a surfing finale in the Catlins. An amazing time relaxing and learning to surf. I rode waves more often than i went into the drink (Maytag-ed), and narrowly escaped the killer surfing sea lions (best surfers I've ever seen) at curio bay.

castle hill - a great place to walk hang your jaw out at some amazing rocks and maybe even scramble around climbing them!; trees imitate wind

Myself, Angie, and Phil. We were a traveling trio. Phil, a great friend and my roommate in McMurdo, provided and enabled all surfing activity. thanks Phil! ; Parakanui bay, where the surfing began for me under huge cliffs, surrounded by bush, kelp and even a few endangered yellow-eyed penguins.


Paua - a great New-Zealand native shellfish, traditionally shredded and fried, we sauteed them gently over our camp stove at Parakanui bay

The beach party ended with a rash of Sea Lion interruptions and friends headed homeward. Angie and I decided to head up to Fiordland National Park and then on to central Otago to visit another friend on the way to the west coast.

West Coast beach art - thousands of kirin and loads of driftwood sculpture - a truly amazing scene by the side of the road, easily an entire kilometer packed to the gills; the Hokitika Wild Foods Festival, and the answer is yes with ample imbibables



Hayden and myself just after he tried to kill me by letting ride his "custom" motorbike.

Finally in our story of traveling New Zealand, there is the Mapp family. My friend Hayden worked down on the ice with me as a deep field mechanic. In our time in New Zealand we managed to meet his entire extended family. In addition to his wife Jane and two boys, Angie and I stayed with his folks Lloyd and Val on their sheep farm in Marlbourough, visited with his brother on his 5000 acre high-country station, and spent a couple of days getting back in touch with urban living with his sister in Wellington. All in all the family really imprinted in me a sense of some real kiwis making their country what it is everyday. Reaching back only three generations, they have as close a connection with the settling of the young country as anyone. Together they are involved in sheep, cattle, and deer farming; eco-tourism; back country guiding; and the art and housing markets. From the hippest city to far off and rough valleys, they were able and excited to show us a great deal of what New Zealand has to offer in culture, place, and politics. Thank you Mapps!

Lloyd and myself on Mt Patriarch; family lorakeet who occasionally came inside for breakfast on a shoulder!


the bird really loved Angie's hair; on top of Mt. Patricarch

Sunday drives are a bit different in in the hill country. Try as he might, Lloyd only just missed getting the truck's clinometer up to 40 degrees incline - this is just how they drive in the back country here: don't wear your seatbelt because it might get in the way if you need to eject quickly!



Aukland - a city comprising an entire quarter of the population of NZ. And home for one night before the longest flight I hope to ever subject myself to. Atop a volcano in the middle of the city, a wonderful way to end a trip arm in arm with an amazing traveler and my love, Angie.