May 19, 84 49.11'N:75 38.00'W
We began our day with a nice rain that coated our glasses with a thin film of ice, making it even more troublesome finding definition in the no-contrast landscape. The cheery conditions had us singing, "skiing in the rain, we're skiing in the rain, what a not quite so glorious feeling..."
Around midday we crossed a series of very thin leads (2 pokers) that nearly had us in the drink. The ice was so thin that a wave is formed on the ice just in front and behind our skis as we shuffle fast and wide-legged to distribute our weight. To stop mid-stream would mean a cold swim at best; at worst, well, we don't like think about it.
Several years ago a Japanese polar explorer died on the Arctic Ocean because, having fallen through the ice, he couldn't get out. His body was found frozen in the ice some time later. Of course, he was also traveling alone; we have several well-tested rescue strategies for such circumstances.
A few minutes after we swore we would never put ourselves in that kind of predicament again, we came upon another lead with a similar type of thin ice. We crossed without a second thought. All told we crossed four of these scary leads.
You might think we would just paddle our boats across all these leads. While we have catamaraned the sled-canoes a few times, most of the leads have been either covered in ice too thick to paddle through and too thin to ski on, or the open water sections stretch in the wrong direction. For now, it is usually easier to find a way around.
We made a monumental life-changing decision today: To listen to our mp3 players while we skied. Perhaps better men than us would just grit their teeth and bear it. But for us, staring at white nothingness has its limits and it appears to be about 18 days. Traveling with our own personal Arctic sound tracks today, the time flew by and in no time, it seemed, it was 'tent time'.
Word of the day: convoluted - our route, the ice, everything about this expedition is stacked up in crazy ways.
May 18, 84 42.02''N:75 56.31W
We woke up this morning, ate breakfast, packed up our gear, strapped on our Granite Gear harnesses, clipped into our Asnes skis and made our way north. Along the way, we went over some pressured ice, skied on a few flat pans, had our feet get wet breaking through thin ice and veered north west for nine and a half hours.
Today, while exciting and new with every step, was much like every other day for us. Therefore in lieu of today's blow by blow happenings, we thought we'd provide you with some of our daily lexicon. Think of the following as a vocabulary builder for the Arctic traveler.
Snowshoes - a question or a statement used to explain (or ask) that the ice is now too rough to travel with skis and we need to stop, take off our skis and put on snowshoes.
Skis - a question or a statement used to explain (or ask) that the ice is now smooth enough to travel with skis and we need to stop, take off our snowshoes and put on skis.
Lead - a crack or gap in the ice, can be covered in thin ice, filled with chunks of ice, completely open water or any combination of all ice/snow presentations.
Two Poker - ice in a lead that is too thin to cross so we have to ski around. It takes two pokes with a ski pole before the tip breaks through to water.
Take a Peek - climb up on a pressure ridge to scout the route ahead; usually involves unhooking from your sled-canoe. This is also a good opportunity for the second person to sit on his boat and contemplate life's great questions (i.e.; rest).
See you on the flip side - what the lead skier says to the second skier as he starts his 1.5 hour shift up front. Sometimes, we won't be close enough to talk for the entire time.
Tent - the Hilleberg Hotel, usually referred to with great reverence. Also used in the phrase 'tent time.' For example, it's three hours until tent time (end of the day).
What time is it? Even though we both travel with watches, usually the lead skier is the only one concerned about time. Therefore, the second skier usually asks: What time is it?
North North West - the direction we keep traveling to avoid easterly drift.
Raw Boned Devil - a description of the day's weather. A day labeled as such is most likely cold, windy, overcast with whiteout conditions.
In other more important news, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service re-opened the public comment period on the polar bear Endangered Species Act listing; the agency is taking comments from now THROUGH JUNE 16. Click on the "What You Can Do" section at the top of this page to learn more about how you can help save the polar bear.
Word of the day: Vagrant - even though the Hotel Hilleberg is quite homely, it is only a temporary shelter. We move every day.
May 17, 84 34.30''N:76 09.48W
Welcome to our fine establishment. Would you like a hot drink? Please, rest your travel-weary body. Don't bother trying to stand, the ceiling is only 40" above the floor. How about a warm bowl of noodles? No need to get up. Everything is within arm's reach at the Hilleberg Hotel.
Today was exceptionally delightful in our five-star nylon abode as we were officially on vacation - at least for the morning. We revelled in our new-found freedom to stay in our sleeping bags until almost 10. Our vacation day was doubly luxurious as we only had to travel 4.5 hours in the afternoon.
A cold mist froze on our glasses as we headed northwest. We are heading slightly to the west of north to get on the 77 degree meridian and to help compensate for the easterly drift. We also hope to by-pass, to the north, dark water clouds low on the horizon which indicate very large leads.
You may be wondering why we keep talking about Cape Wind and other clean energy projects if the real reason for the expedition is to save the polar bear. Well, the only way to save the polar bear is to stop global warming. Most of the carbon emissions that create global warming come from electricity plants. If we reduce the amount of dirty power we use by choosing clean energy, we might be able to save the polar bear.
Word of the day: deckchair - the one thing the Hotel Hilleberg does not have.
May 16, 84 28.30''N:76 25.35W
Which would you prefer: mind-numbing travel on a flat pan, the physical strain of powering over pressure ridges, or the emotional stress of negotiating fractured ice and leads? Having a hard time deciding? Don't worry, we'll give you all three.
Don't get us wrong: Our journey is not all hardship and pain, but each day seems to bring a different problem that we have to work through. Our vote, by the way, would be for flat ice.
Today started on an incredibly flat pan of ice. We whooped and hollered at our luck. The nautical miles cruised by effortlessly for almost three hours. We spotted two dark cigar-shaped clouds in the distance (these form above leads and generally mean lots of open water) and tried to veer in between them.
At first we seemed to have missed most of the fractured jumbled mess we'd been expecting, but then we entered an area of slabbed pressured ice, then some flatter drifty areas, then several bigger leads and pressure...ad infinitum.
Later in the afternoon we had a great stroke of luck as we just missed an area of huge thick slabbed pressure to the east. All we had to do was cross one small gap and we were out of the worst of it.
It was truly incredible to ski along five-foot-thick ice blocks shaped in hundreds of different angles, the larger ones appearing blue. In some places ice piled up to almost 20 feet! There is a subtle beauty in much of the Arctic Ocean, but this ridge was just the opposite, still starkly simple, but awe-inspiring as well.
Now we are in the tent celebrating the fact that tomorrow is a half day of rest and we get to sleep in. Bye for now; noodles beckon to be eaten.
Word of the day: invigorated - what we hope to be after our half day rest.
May 15, 84 19.41''N:76 43.39W
The good: our day started out under clear blue skies. It was, hopefully, a positive omen. We set out skiing for over two hours through a heavily drifted area of old pressure.
The bad: we crossed an area sometime during our late morning (roughly latitude 84:15, created by the end of the continental shelf) consisting of a series of lake-sized leads. One even rivaled Lake Superior. The going here was arduous at best and we were forced west to find any connecting pans. We did it all over rubble, big gaps, small cracks, ice walls and ice ledges. It was physically exhausting, spirit-draining work.
The Great: Then, like a phoenix from the ashes, we emerged into a large expanse of relatively flat ice. For the first time, we could see quite far in every direction. We also noticed that we could no longer see Ellesmere Island!
It was a record day for us in two areas: we traveled for 9 hours and we made 9 nautical miles
Word of the day: bonanza - a sudden increase of wealth or luck - our newly acquired flat traveling conditions.
May 14, 83 22.44'N:77 18.00W
We were roused from a deep sleep sometime last night to find the skies had cleared and it was clear blue all the way to the horizon. We gave each other groggy high fives then snuggled back in our sleeping bags. Little did we know that the upcoming day's travels would yield the worst weather we've seen to date.
Once out of the tent, we realized that, while clear, it was really cold with a stiff wind still driving from north. Regardless, it was nice to able to see the terrain for a change.
That lasted for almost two hours.
The sky darkened and an ominous fog rolled in. Soon, it was nearly a whiteout, but this time dampness permeated everything. We were chilled to the bone and skied along face down trying to hide as much exposed skin as possible behind our hoods. At one point, we even thought we could taste salt in the air.
Eventually, we found the source of all this foulness: a huge wide open lead - and a million smaller leads.
We got lucky and were able to skirt the biggest lead, but had to catamaran the boats to cross a second, then weave back and forth for almost two hours to get through all the fractured ice. At one point, we had to leap across a four foot gap. It was hard work, scary at times, and every other emotion as well.
Finally out of that jumbled mess, we ended the day just as it started, in an old pressured area with lots of drifts and the sun shining.
On a more serious note, we heard that a proposal to build the biggest offshore wind farm in the nation won approval from Texas state officials. That's great news to us, but also reminds us of other projects like Cape Wind that need to be approved.
Word of the day - robot. We are machine-like contraptions covering our daily miles.
May 13, 84 05.55'N:76 16.10'W
This has been our fourth day of white-out conditions. If we only had the sun. Our spirlts would improve as well as our ability to see where we are going. To make matters worse, a brisk north wind froze our faces.
If you want to experience a bit of the Arctic Ocean wherever you are, here are a few suggestions to make your daily life more like the North Pole. First, find a blank sheet of white paper. Next, hold it in front of your face - about three inches. Now try walking, grocery shopping, whatever. It's like your own personal whiteout. Here's another fun one: Take 8 hours out of your day to stand under the fan in a commercial walk-in freezer of your choice.
Seriously, Lonnie had a scary thing happen today. His ankle froze up. After several attempts to move it through stretching, he managed to get it working again. What a relief.
Still we are managing to press on despite all this.
Sincerely, two very tired boys.
Word of the day: postponed (we weren't going to make this the word of the day, just mention that we were postponing it until tomorrow, but now it's our word of the day).
