One World Expedition Main
Trekking across the Arctic Ocean to raise awareness of Global Warming and the plight of the Polar Bear.
Cheese Saves the Day
sunny, 9 F
May 9, 83 42.33'N:76 39.57W

If we could only start every day like today: a 9:30 wake up, casual breakfast in ... sleeping bag, and a 12:45 canoe-sled time. Sound relaxing? Well, it was - more than you can possibly imagine. We were so incredibly tired after a relentless week of arctic toil that it was all we could do to just set up the tent last night.

We considered today a double vacation day because, one, we got to sleep in, and two, we had to drag canoe-sleds over the Arctic Ocean for only four hours.

Once harnessed up, part II of our 'rest' day was everything but restful. The reason for the hard going was a wide swath of multi-year pressure ice scattered haphazardly across the ice. Behind, in front, to the side, below, just beyond, around (and every other preposition in the book) each ice chunk was a huge snowdrift. Some were hard packed, others soft. We had to haul our sleds up one side and then they would come crashing down wrenching our backs on the other if we were not careful. It was either get pulled backwards by the weight of the sleds on the way up or get run over on the way down.

Navigating through this mess was tedious, spirit draining, energy sapping work. We felt a bit shafted being dealt such a raw deal on this of all days. After two hours it was break time. We didn't know if we could go on.

Then, like a manna from heaven, a small bag of WISCONSIN cheese curds was produced. Suddenly the day didn't look so bad. Instead of just crackers, we were having CHEESE and crackers. It was such a small thing, but one that helped us make it through the day.

All in all we are doing better then anticipated and our spirits are high. Our half day slog yielded nearly 5 nautical miles or 10 kilometers or 6.2 statute miles.

Word of the day: precarious - today found us both in dangerous spots in the heavily drifted terrain.

Two Rabbits and a Cardinal
sunny, 10 F
May 8, 83 37.44'N:76 51.31W

After a full week on the trail, we are bone weary, dog tired and whatever other quippy phrases one might use to describe our tired state. Its been quite a week on the Arctic Ocean for us. Above all else, we are thankful to be making good progress.

The weather has been progessively warming and the change is most notable late at 'night' and early mornings. We would have loved to sleep in this morning. Our Hilleberg tent is now warm and cozy, but with a floor space roughly the same size as a sheet of plywood, we are anxious to be out as well.

We pushed hard today through a veritable arctic potpourri. In the morning, we avoided some badly pressured ice by hopping on a newly frozen lead and cruising northeast. Later, we slogged through a heavily drifted area pulling and heaving our canoe-sleds to near exhaustion.

We had two incredible firsts today. Around 1 pm we skied into a massive line of pressured ice that towered to 30 feet. Gigantic blocks, slabs and chunks of ice formed an impenetrable wall. The whole line of pressure extended as far as we could see to the southwest and nearly as far to the northeast. We skied northeast for about a half hour then found a spot, amazingly, to wiggle through.

Our next big first was crossing a newly frozen lead that spanned almost a quarter mile. iI was covered with 'ice flowers' so we knew it was safe with the exception of spots where we got that sinking feeling (literally) as the ice bowed beneath our skis.

We had a another great travel day, covering 7.60 nautical miles, that's 15 kilometers or 9.3 'normal' miles and also saw two rabbits and a cardinal in the process. Of course, if you stare at anything for long enough...

Word of the day: assimilate - after a full week on the trail we have managed to integrate ourselves into the routines of expedition travel.

Seven on seven
sunny, 7 F
May 7, 83 30.02'N:77 08.13W

We managed a few welcome breaks from the jumbled pack-ice today. In the morning, we found a newly frozen lead that headed north. It was easy going for almost a half an hour which put big smiles on both our faces.

By the end of the day we found a large flat ice floe almost two miles across (the biggest we've seen so far). Yahoo!

While we were able to ski for most of the day, we are still relying heavily on our MSR snowshoes. Without these, our forward progress would be nearly impossible. We keep them within easy reach - strapped to the top of our sleds. We wear them when crossing badly blocked pressure ridges and long rubble ice fields. We are so pleased with all aspects of these invaluable tools.

We were also doing the 'project thin ice' today. We had to cross several leads where the ice either bowed beneath our weight or broke once our canoe sleds passed over. It's just sheer luck that one of us didn't fall in.

We covered 7 nautical miles which is the same as 14 kilometers! We are really excited to see Ellesemere Island shrinking in the distance.

Word of the day: lumbago - we'd give you a clue but that might be too obvious.

Moving Forward
sunny, 5 F
May 7, 83 22.44'N:77 18.00W

Today started out hard, got worse, made a nice comeback, then ended OK. You would think, after preparing, planning and training for almost four years for the first summer expedition to the North Pole, that nothing out here would faze us. Well, we wish we could say that were true.

The morning started with some treacherous skiing across some fairly large cracks. Looking three feet down at a watery lead is nerve-wracking on a good day. Trying to cross the yawning gap with skis slipping on ice chunks and a canoe-sled pulling us back or running us over requires a resolve that stems from one simple truth: the only way out of here is to keep moving forward.

Or a bit east or west depending on where the flattest ice lay.

We followed the good side (somewhat flat) of a long pressure ridge and lead to the north east for some of the day. It eventually brought us into an area of fractured slabs. A few were pushing into each other as well. They looked like icy puzzle pieces. After scouting some alternative routes we finally decided to catamaran the boats to cross a small lead.

By last year's standards it was an easy crossing, yet we were both noticeably nervous. Why, we had done this exact procedure a hundred times.

We are still settling into this place. It is so vast and so huge that our small expedition seems so insignificant. We could easily die in several different ways each day. But we know this as well, so we ski and snowshoe carefully. We scout leads, discuss options and listen always, to our nerves.

We had a great travel day, covering 5.20 nautical miles.

Word of the day: castaway - we are far away from all our friends and family, we have to improvise to fix broken gear and use our resources carefully (we only have so many Clif bars). But as you may have already noted, we have not exactly ended up on a tropical island.

May 5, day 5, 5 miles
sunny, cold 5 F
May 5, 83 17.06N:77 26.30W

Had an outstanding day, despite the difficult pack ice, and we eventually made 5 nautical miles in 7 hours travel. We spent 30 minutes putting frozen boots on this morning, and another 30 on the trail getting them warm.

The day may have started cold, but the intense morning sun warmed us quickly. Pulling the modified canoes through, around and over whatever the Arctic Ocean can throw at us helps keep our blood pumping - and then some. We sweat away the day battling inch by inch, then freeze during our short breaks.

We ended up traveling on some nicely frozen leads for short bits of the day. We know a lead is safe if it's covered in ice flowers (hoar frost crystals on the ice that have formed/grown in large clumps) that are around three inches in diameter. Anything less is suspect but not untravelable. Having ice bend underneath our snow shoes is disconcerting to say the least. Our mood, depending on the size of the lead we're crossing, ranges from casual concern to stark terror, depending on the size, extent and stability of ice.

One other insight from our day: traveling in second was a bit like taking a vacation... But not really.

We also thought we'd convey our simple rules for the word of the day. First, we get out the dictionary. One of us pages randomly through it, stops, and then starts reading all the definitions on that page. Finally, we pick a word that somehow relates to our day.

Today's word: flyover. We heard, then saw a plane way above us. We assumed it was an SAS flight, with cocktail service just starting.

Ice Mountains
partly cloudy, 8 F
May 4, 83 12.05N 77 25.47W

Live in the moment or plan for the future? With day 4 of 120 barely under our belts its hard to think past tomorrow. Yet, all day we talked of possibility - flat pans of ice, a smooth newly frozen lead running straight north, a big pan on the horizon...

We went to sleep last night with the rumblings of grinding ice pans in the near distance. It's hard to imagine such huge slabs of ice moving, but they do. This trip would make a good geology lesson: it's hard not to see the formation of the earth's mountain ranges in the uplifted slabs.

The ice to the north of us shifted as well because we encountered our first leads today. We started counting them, got to three, then four and then lost track.

The ice was insane at times and down right pleasant other times. We have come to expect both good and bad in turn. During part of the day, we were inching through some really nasty rubble that seemed endless. Then, a sharp turn and we were on a newly frozen lead effotlessly pulling the boats. Do you see a pattern emerging?

All told we made 4.25 nautical miles today. Sore and wasted, we will sleep the deepest of sleeps.

Intricate
sunny 8 F
May 3, 83 07.46N 77 25.47W

Long day, short miles. We managed to cover about 2.25 miles today. But considering the ice conditions, we really couldn't have done one inch more. Once again, we find ourselves iin the tent and tired.

It is a good tired however. We have overcome some major obstacles to our forward progress. At one point, we were easing (or trying to ease) our sleds down a 10 foot drop of ice. Traveling across the rubbled ice isn't much easier either, but we manage. The trick is to try and avoid the large car-sized chunks. There is considerable back and forthing finding the 'easiest' path.

Despite all this, we have managed to keep in an almost straight bearing north. Using our shadows helps a lot. At noon, our shadows point straight north, at 1 pm they point 15 degrees to the east, 2 pm 30 degrees, and so on. All the pressured ice helps too as larger chunks provide recognizable reference points.

The ice is so thick and massive here that is hard to for us to imagine that it will be gone in summer in just 50 years. That means no more polar bears--which by the way can't be too far away because we just ran across some arctic fox tracks. Up here, where there's a fox, a polar bear is near.

We got out the dictionary today and chose a word for the day - intricate. The reasons: 1) two inch long crystals of hoar frost that cover every chunk of ice. 2) our route today.

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