There is a place where seals and penguins are common things. Where snow storms happen in the summer and glare from the ground burns the whites of your eyes. Butt cheeks get dry skin, and I'm there.
I'm at a place where thin beards and hairy pits are commitments. A place where overalls make you desirable and hiking boots are considered attractive. Where inhibitions drop with time regardless of how sober or perpetually drunk you are. It's a low standard paradise, and I'm there.
It's a place where people can get there cabin fever on. Where producing Freezing Man for Thanksgiving or MAAG for Christmas brings out the need to ride the giant seesaw or run on the human gerbil wheel. Where Under the Bed Gallery is really a mini art gallery under someones bed and Ice Stock brings in the New Year. A place where a round of whiskey slaps turns into an all bar slap/punch fest and no one hits out of anger, and I'm there.
This is a place that 34 degrees makes you sweat. A place that talking about the smell of moss causes folks to salivate. A place that produces enough free time having a drawn out conversation about the logistics of making a child that is 75% genetically yours doesn't seem ludicrous, but worth while.
This is a place where spending all day working with someone and eating every meal together still leaves you making plans with them for that night. A place where no matter how annoying or abrasive someone seems, you learn to love them because there are NO other options. It's a place that has equality the communists would be jealous of and the lack of materialism needed to take down Wal-Mart. Hippies would seem high maintenance, and I'm there.
Talking about a favorite bar in Beijing isn't one upping the other guy, because they've been there too. Bouncing off ideas of Siberia or Malaysia next isn't chatter, because they're thinking of going too. It's the realization that crazy is normal and "real life" is here and they all feel it too. It's a rolling stone's paradise, and I'm there.
Hope you all had a great holiday season and enjoy the new year!
Chris
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Happy Camper
WAIS and Byrd are two field camps out in the middle of nowhere where about thirty people stay and support science ventures like taking and studying ice core samples. The camps are a handful of semi-permanent buildings and a cluster of tents that house the people there. The closest populated station to these two (other than each other) is the space station when it passes by. Given that if someone is sent here they face two weeks to a month of rough, hazardous conditions, peeing in bottles, working longer hours, living outdoors in much colder weather, facing large elevation changes, and being limited to a two minute shower once a week, it's obvious that we all have been fighting for a chance to go.
My boss took me aside last week and began apologizing for pulling me around so much on changing back and forth from days to nights and thanked me for being so flexible. I figured she meant to tell me I was going back to nights, but instead informed me they are sending me to field camp.
Although working a field camp is non-stop shoveling snow, washing dishes with melt water, and trying to sleep out in the elements, it's one of those perks that pops up and makes you enjoy mopping, scrubbing, and cleaning just to get the chance to go. None of us came to Antarctica for the luxuries and cushiness. The chance to go to snow school, or Happy Camper, has been incentive enough for some of us to be on our game to a competitive level, much less be sent out. Only eight to twelve of the thirty some people I work with get to go so I am totally stoked.
Happy camper was this past weekend. The instructions for the course are "Pack all of your ECW (extreme cold weather) gear and meet in the science building for two days of snow school." Other than that all I had to go off of was the advice thrown to me by the seasoned kitchen staff, "Sleep in the trench, but be sure to bring a pillow, scrape it as flat as possible, and make your roof high enough to not get claustrophobic..." What am I getting into?
The 22 people that made up the class included the two guides, one of my buddies I flew down here with, a woman from Brazil here to study penguins and draw their blood, a handful of PHD and Masters students, as well as the one other person from the galley going with me, the former swimsuit competition winner for Miss Texas. The people you meet when traveling...
We spent the first half of the day studying hypothermia, frost bite, heat loss, and a hand full of other survival situations people raised in Florida have never thought about. We then lugged our ECW bags, food boxes, and extra gear into our vans and were driven outside of town to the snow pack on the ice shelf. The shelf itself is giant and the expanse of nothingness is like sailing on the ocean on a VERY still day. With hundreds of meters of snow and ice, it's a perfect setting for learning survival practices while still being close enough to base to be saved if things were to really hit the fan.
The first thing learned was where the latrine (a deep hole carved into the ice about a hundred feet down) stood and to be sure to lock the door to keep the door from blowing off the hinges. Then we went over stove operation, what to expect in a survival bag if need be, and what to expect for that night. We all picked up a sleep kit and hiked our way out to the happy camper sight. We spent the day learning how to set up Scott and mountain tents under severe weather conditions, cut ice blocks out of the snow pack, build a snow wall as a wind breaker, use the quarry from the block cutting area as a makeshift kitchen, and finally how to dig a trench into the snow as a means of shelter. At the end of the day none of the projects started had been completed and no trenches had been dug. The instructors assigned the Texan and myself as the camp managers and left for warm indoor shelter as the class was left to our own devices to figure out completing the wall, getting the kitchen set up, boiling snow for water, and lastly digging out our trenches. In no way shape or form were we going to let each other bitch out and sleep in a tent. If you're going to be bad ass, go all the way.
To dig a trench (if you are ever in the situation where you need one) dig down in the snow until you're just over waist deep. Be sure to lay down in it so the length is long enough where you don't touch with your head or feet. Dig out the sides at the base to combat claustrophobia while still leaving the opening narrow enough to form a roof. Flatten the area as much as possible. For the roof either use the sled that was full of saws, shovels, and tents, turned bottom up over your opening and then fill the edges with snow chunks, or cut out thinner, less heavy blocks from the kitchen/quarry and lay them across or against each other on to of the opening. Bedding should include two mats as insulation, a fleece sleeping bag for the inside, and a -40 degree sleeping bag for the outside layer. Crawl into bed with long underwear, head wear, and dry wool socks on and place any wet clothing against your skin to dry. Plug the opening with your ECW bag and anything else you can think of. Once inside, after all this hassle, you'll automatically have to pee. Use the pee bottle then close it tight and shove it in you sleeping bag as extra warmth.
It was the first time I've been surrounded by blue ice in my life. With the sun over us the whole time I figured it would be hard to sleep. Just as I was going to bed in my ice coffin the snow was coming down hard enough to hide the volcano looming over us, much less McMurdo in the far distance. It created a total silence and the light pitter patter of snow hitting the sled over made me pass out right away. I woke at some point in the middle of the night and heard NOTHING. Without a watch and movement of the sun, the only way to tell how much time had gone by was the icicles that had formed from water vapor dripping down the sled above me and how much ice had formed inside my water bottle. I lied there for a while and enjoyed the sensory deprivation. It was the first time since I've been here that I've been able to be alone and quiet in a comfortable position. I woke to footsteps above. I popped my head out of my hole and was met by hard wind, a tent flying away from a camper, and dark clouds overhead. I apparently slept nine hours straight, minus the alone time. The pants and gloves I had tried drying with my body had turned to solid clumps of frozen fabric. Thank God for extras. We ate breakfast in the kitchen (complete with snow L shaped benches and large coffee table) and broke down our camp ready for pickup.
The second day we were brought back to the Happy Camper building and run through drills to see how much information we could access while in an emergency. Then we got to pull out the HM radio in the survival bag that is modelled after the trench radios used in the world wars and attempt to contact the south pole station. The final task before dragging our bags back to the road for pickup was the drill of wearing buckets on our heads to simulate severe conditions and try to find our missing person. We were maybe three minutes away from finding her, but time ran out.
On our return to town we were instructed on helicopter safety before being allowed to get back for a shower and food. It's amazing how much chocolate they fed us. The amount of calories allotted for keeping warm is pretty staggering. After a shower and quick nap I devoured a huge plate of food then bartended for 7 hours. I was lucky in that the Mad Max themed dance party was that Saturday in a different building and we had a relatively relaxed night.
More Later,
Chris
My boss took me aside last week and began apologizing for pulling me around so much on changing back and forth from days to nights and thanked me for being so flexible. I figured she meant to tell me I was going back to nights, but instead informed me they are sending me to field camp.
Although working a field camp is non-stop shoveling snow, washing dishes with melt water, and trying to sleep out in the elements, it's one of those perks that pops up and makes you enjoy mopping, scrubbing, and cleaning just to get the chance to go. None of us came to Antarctica for the luxuries and cushiness. The chance to go to snow school, or Happy Camper, has been incentive enough for some of us to be on our game to a competitive level, much less be sent out. Only eight to twelve of the thirty some people I work with get to go so I am totally stoked.
Happy camper was this past weekend. The instructions for the course are "Pack all of your ECW (extreme cold weather) gear and meet in the science building for two days of snow school." Other than that all I had to go off of was the advice thrown to me by the seasoned kitchen staff, "Sleep in the trench, but be sure to bring a pillow, scrape it as flat as possible, and make your roof high enough to not get claustrophobic..." What am I getting into?
The 22 people that made up the class included the two guides, one of my buddies I flew down here with, a woman from Brazil here to study penguins and draw their blood, a handful of PHD and Masters students, as well as the one other person from the galley going with me, the former swimsuit competition winner for Miss Texas. The people you meet when traveling...
We spent the first half of the day studying hypothermia, frost bite, heat loss, and a hand full of other survival situations people raised in Florida have never thought about. We then lugged our ECW bags, food boxes, and extra gear into our vans and were driven outside of town to the snow pack on the ice shelf. The shelf itself is giant and the expanse of nothingness is like sailing on the ocean on a VERY still day. With hundreds of meters of snow and ice, it's a perfect setting for learning survival practices while still being close enough to base to be saved if things were to really hit the fan.
The first thing learned was where the latrine (a deep hole carved into the ice about a hundred feet down) stood and to be sure to lock the door to keep the door from blowing off the hinges. Then we went over stove operation, what to expect in a survival bag if need be, and what to expect for that night. We all picked up a sleep kit and hiked our way out to the happy camper sight. We spent the day learning how to set up Scott and mountain tents under severe weather conditions, cut ice blocks out of the snow pack, build a snow wall as a wind breaker, use the quarry from the block cutting area as a makeshift kitchen, and finally how to dig a trench into the snow as a means of shelter. At the end of the day none of the projects started had been completed and no trenches had been dug. The instructors assigned the Texan and myself as the camp managers and left for warm indoor shelter as the class was left to our own devices to figure out completing the wall, getting the kitchen set up, boiling snow for water, and lastly digging out our trenches. In no way shape or form were we going to let each other bitch out and sleep in a tent. If you're going to be bad ass, go all the way.
To dig a trench (if you are ever in the situation where you need one) dig down in the snow until you're just over waist deep. Be sure to lay down in it so the length is long enough where you don't touch with your head or feet. Dig out the sides at the base to combat claustrophobia while still leaving the opening narrow enough to form a roof. Flatten the area as much as possible. For the roof either use the sled that was full of saws, shovels, and tents, turned bottom up over your opening and then fill the edges with snow chunks, or cut out thinner, less heavy blocks from the kitchen/quarry and lay them across or against each other on to of the opening. Bedding should include two mats as insulation, a fleece sleeping bag for the inside, and a -40 degree sleeping bag for the outside layer. Crawl into bed with long underwear, head wear, and dry wool socks on and place any wet clothing against your skin to dry. Plug the opening with your ECW bag and anything else you can think of. Once inside, after all this hassle, you'll automatically have to pee. Use the pee bottle then close it tight and shove it in you sleeping bag as extra warmth.
It was the first time I've been surrounded by blue ice in my life. With the sun over us the whole time I figured it would be hard to sleep. Just as I was going to bed in my ice coffin the snow was coming down hard enough to hide the volcano looming over us, much less McMurdo in the far distance. It created a total silence and the light pitter patter of snow hitting the sled over made me pass out right away. I woke at some point in the middle of the night and heard NOTHING. Without a watch and movement of the sun, the only way to tell how much time had gone by was the icicles that had formed from water vapor dripping down the sled above me and how much ice had formed inside my water bottle. I lied there for a while and enjoyed the sensory deprivation. It was the first time since I've been here that I've been able to be alone and quiet in a comfortable position. I woke to footsteps above. I popped my head out of my hole and was met by hard wind, a tent flying away from a camper, and dark clouds overhead. I apparently slept nine hours straight, minus the alone time. The pants and gloves I had tried drying with my body had turned to solid clumps of frozen fabric. Thank God for extras. We ate breakfast in the kitchen (complete with snow L shaped benches and large coffee table) and broke down our camp ready for pickup.
The second day we were brought back to the Happy Camper building and run through drills to see how much information we could access while in an emergency. Then we got to pull out the HM radio in the survival bag that is modelled after the trench radios used in the world wars and attempt to contact the south pole station. The final task before dragging our bags back to the road for pickup was the drill of wearing buckets on our heads to simulate severe conditions and try to find our missing person. We were maybe three minutes away from finding her, but time ran out.
On our return to town we were instructed on helicopter safety before being allowed to get back for a shower and food. It's amazing how much chocolate they fed us. The amount of calories allotted for keeping warm is pretty staggering. After a shower and quick nap I devoured a huge plate of food then bartended for 7 hours. I was lucky in that the Mad Max themed dance party was that Saturday in a different building and we had a relatively relaxed night.
More Later,
Chris
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Holidays
I figured being down here would throw a wrench in the feelings of joy and excitement I get around the holidays. Not only is it becoming summer and McMudhole is creeping out of the snow melt, but being without people who've known you for over two months kinda puts the breaks on the vibe.
Thanksgiving turned out to be one of the easiest days I've worked here. We had adopt a DA going on, so for an extra hour we had someone come in and replace us from the community. We also had a full hour to eat dinner which was a challenge as the urge to eat everything clashed with our habit of chowing down dinner as fast as possible. The icing on the cake was the standing ovation the kitchen staff got after the first of three Thanksgiving meals was served. If I could have every person I served in a day stand up at the end and applaud for me I think it would make the crappiest of situations better. I recommend this to anyone. I don't recommend trying for a nap when drunk people are waiting for their turn to eat in the hallways outside your door. Just make sure if you do you don't have any sharp objects, or heavy things to throw at them when they don't understand your frustration when you ask them to be quiet.
I am finding myself thankful for the small things. And here they are:
Till later
Chris
Thanksgiving turned out to be one of the easiest days I've worked here. We had adopt a DA going on, so for an extra hour we had someone come in and replace us from the community. We also had a full hour to eat dinner which was a challenge as the urge to eat everything clashed with our habit of chowing down dinner as fast as possible. The icing on the cake was the standing ovation the kitchen staff got after the first of three Thanksgiving meals was served. If I could have every person I served in a day stand up at the end and applaud for me I think it would make the crappiest of situations better. I recommend this to anyone. I don't recommend trying for a nap when drunk people are waiting for their turn to eat in the hallways outside your door. Just make sure if you do you don't have any sharp objects, or heavy things to throw at them when they don't understand your frustration when you ask them to be quiet.
I am finding myself thankful for the small things. And here they are:
- Insects, Butt Face Bumble who came in the honey, and the fruit fly I bonded with who showed up in the salad. You guys remind me that every time a bug dies here a species becomes extinct on the continent. Thanks for sharing your last days with us.
- Freshies, aside from bringing said insect buddies, they are the only source of fresh food we have. Sucks that a two day storm kept them from arriving for Thanksgiving dinner, but it made life easier for all involved to just open that can of fruit cocktail from the 90's and call it a holiday.
- Knowing your neighbors, in the sense that the question "Where are you from?" is no longer asked because there is no straight answer down here and no one has the time to explain the last five years of traveling that got them to this point anyway.
- Living on the edge, where naked is socks and a base layer. You always feel like a deviant when you walk down the hall from the shower in your shorts. Exhilarating.
Till later
Chris
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