Friday, November 06, 2009

Bonus day hike on Andrew's Ridge


Lake Frixel and the mouth of the Taylor Valley

While I was out on my hikes over our one day weekend, we lost two of our connections, Internet and phone, to the outside world. We weren't worried because we still had our radio and Iridium phone and the Comms guys could fix them on Monday. In order to use less resources, the Comms shop and my boss (Thank you, Karen and Bill!) decided they would keep me at the field camp for a few extra hours to troubleshoot the problem from Lake Hoare while the Comms guys went to Voslips, the location of the mountain top repeater, to troubleshoot the problem from there. Instead of having one of the first flights out Monday morning, I'd be waiting until late afternoon.


A ventifact.


Use your imagination and see a hand.


Another ventifact.

Only an hour or two after that decision was made, the weather deteriorated at McMurdo and all helicopter flights were canceled for the day. That left me stranded in the Dry Valleys for one more night! My two day trip, turned three day trip, had become a four day trip! Fortunately for me, it was a blue bird day on my side of McMurdo Sound at Lake Hoare. I did camp chores during the day and was set loose to hike Andrew's Ridge in the late afternoon.


Andrew's Ridge.


Glacier demolished ground?

Hiking Andrew's Ridge was amazing. After crossing Lake Hoare, I walked straight up to the ridge line. From there, I just headed west towards Lake Bonnie, the polar plateau, and the area above the defile that I had hiked too earlier. Along the way, the terrain changed drastically. Near the top of the ridge, there was almost no snow and most of the rocks look like they had been smashed to smithereens. Because the area was so flat, I assumed a glacier had ground up the large rocks and then receded. However, it might have been sand and wind erosion over thousands of years. I don't know. The few large rocks left behind were all ventifacts that had been eroded down by the sand. It was incredible to witness.


A ventifact.


More ventifact.

About halfway through my jaunt along Andrew's Ridge, I noticed myself looking for terrestrial wildlife. There was none. There isn't any terrestrial wildlife in Antarctica, only avian and aquatic wildlife. I think I almost forgot I was in Antarctica because it was so warm and I wasn't waking on any ice. It was similar scenery to a summer alpine hike in Colorado. When I finally remembered I was in Antarctica, it really struck me just how out of place the Dry Valleys are. There should be ice everywhere, but there isn't. Parts of them are almost barren of snow.


Another ventifact.


More ventifact.

Along the way, my black fleece jacket fell off my backpack. I was really worried because you aren't supposed to leave ANYTHING behind in the Dry Valleys. I was peeing in a bottle, swallowing my saliva, and even wiping my nose on my sleeve instead of using a farmer's blow or snot rocket. If I went back, I wasn't sure I'd find it because it blended into the terrain and there wasn't an exact trail to follow. I'd been trying to walk rock to rock so I wouldn't leave any footprints behind. Apparently, they can last for years. There are tire tracks from the 1960s that haven't eroded away yet in another part of the valleys. I went back about a half mile, got lucky, and spotted it. When I got back to camp, Rae told me about a shirt of hers than had been lost and recovered four years later! I don't think she is still wearing it.


Lake Bonnie and the spot where I dropped down to Mummy Lake.


Yet another ventifact.

While I was walking on this hike there wasn't even a strong breeze to generate any noise other than the swooshing of my own jacket. If I stopped, there was nothing to hear. Nothing, but silence. So much nothing, that I pulled my hood down to better hear the sound of silence.


Seuss Glacier


Not so mummified seal on the north shore of Lake Hoare (maybe Chad).

Canada Glacier at Sunset


Canada Glacier at sunset.

In photography, there is special hour called the golden hour that comes twice a day so it should really be called the golden hours, not hour. It is, loosely, the first and last hour of sunlight of each day, but could be more scientifically defined by the position of the sun on the horizon. At the equator, the golden hour is shorter than an hour because the sun spends less time near the horizon. At certain times of the year in the polar regions, the golden hour is much longer, sometimes lasting all day for the same reason.

The golden hour is important to photographers because the lighting is softer, more diffuse, and often referred to as 'warmer.' This effect is caused because the sun is near the horizon so the light has to travel though more layers of the atmosphere which reduces its intensity. Additionally, more light of certain wavelengths is scattered which changes the quality of the light reaching the photographer's subject. As a loose rule, I'd say if you could take the exact same photograph during the golden hour and another part of the day, it would be better during the golden hour.


The crack in the mountains that allows the golden hour light to pass through to Canada Glacier.

My first night at Lake Hoare, I saw the light move across Canada Glacier during the golden hour and it was one of the most breathtaking moments of my time down here. Brilliance in motion! Unfortunately, the sun comes through a crack in the mountains at the other side of the lake so it only lasted about twenty minutes. On my next night, my planned final night, I resolved to be out on the lake for a better view (click on any picture below to blow it up for your own better view).


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


Canada Glacier at sunset.


The results of Canada Glacier's calving at sunset.


Canada Glacier dwarfing the Lake Hoare field camp at sunset.


Canada Glacier dwarfing the Lake Hoare field camp at sunset.

The other amazing part about the timing of this was that as I write this the sun is up all the time, so the golden hour shouldn't happen again there until March or April. If I had come any earlier, it also would not happen because the sun wouldn't be high enough to get over the hills in the crack it shines through. I was really just so fortunate with the timing of my trip out to the Dry Valleys and the timing actually gets better . . .


Me with cold hands (don't bring your metal camera to Antarctica)!

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Mt. Rae


Looking down Canada Glacier towards Lake Hoare


Becky on the way up Canada Glacier

After getting back from my hike to the defile, I sat down to finish out a slow morning. I had a quite breakfast, did some camp work, and filled in a few too many crossword puzzle answers. Then, Becky and I finally got a late start towards our climb up Mt. Rae. We weren't going to summit, just head up the backside until we didn't feel like heading up anymore.


Becky walks like an Egyptian with Lake Hoare below. I'm sharing this because it makes me giggle every time I see it.


Canada Glacier 'sliding' to the right and Lake Frixel in the distance.


Me with Lake Frixel and Andrew's Ridge in the background.

We followed the Canada Glacier up to the back side of Mt. Rae until we hit a small flat stretch. We could have crossed over the glacier to Lake Frixel where there were two unmanned field camps or keep left and head up the back side of Mt. Rae. We went left and after an hour of scree and snow climbing, we finally wrapped about to some amazing views.


Lake Frixel sits near the entrance of the Taylor Valley with Mt. Erebus looming in the distance.

Becky and I didn't make it our goal of finding a place to see up the east side of the Taylor Valley. We didn't know if there actually was such a view without going to the very top and as we kept climbing and climbing, the view wasn't changing much. We eventually just sat down, ate a great meal, basked in the sunshine, and headed back down. I had hoped to see more, but it didn't really matter. I was still swooning about spending an extra day in such a beautiful place. Nothing to prove. Just enjoy.


A ventifact.

On the way back down the way we came, I saw three great things that I have not seen anywhere else in Antarctica. The first was a ventifact, which is a sand blown, usually pitted, rock. Since the area is so dry and windy, the sand just gets moving and wears the rock down. Sometimes, eddies form based on the rock formation which just force the sand to cycle inside them causing them to erode in curious shapes.


Big rock in the side of a glacier.

Also, on the way down I saw a rock that may have been twice the size of my head lodged in the side of the glacier. It looked so out of place and precariously perched that I could have believed someone put it there if I didn't know better. The glacier had simply picked up that rock thousands or maybe even millions of years ago and has been waiting to drop it ever since.


Mummified seal.

The final amazing thing I saw on the way down was a mummified seal. Yes, the first animal I saw and photographed this time, just like last time, was dead. The ocean isn't near by so this seal has to be hundreds (or thousands?) of years old. I saw a few others while in the valley, but none that looked this complete. It is amazing what a lack of moisture can do for preservation.


Me beside Canada Glacier.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

to the Defile!

After a wonderful night of sleep, I set out for an early morning hike. The night before the camp manager and host with the most, Rae, suggested I put on STABILicers and walk down the lake's moat to the head of the Seuss Glacier and the Defile. I thought the Defile was a proper noun and had a historical reason for such a name, but it turns out that the area just meets the definition of a defile, a narrow passage or gorge.


Moat ice and the uneven center of Lake Hoare


Moat ice that has air bubbles trapped in it and snow resting on it.


I love this picture because it looks like wind blowing across water, but the wind just shapes the lake's moat ice to appear the same way over time.

The part of the lake closest to the shore is known as the moat. Each summer, it melts out forming a gap between the shore and the rest of the lake which remains semi-frozen. I haven't been there in late summer so I'm not sure how frozen the center stays. However, I do know that the ice chunks that broke free in years past protrude up, as shown a couple pictures above. The center of the lake makes for difficult walking because it is uneven and the aged ice has partly thawed and refrozen many times which makes it less stable. The moat is a flatter surface so it makes for easy walking as long as you are wearing footwear that can grip the ice.


Seuss Glacier.


Ice grass growing up from the sea floor (or lots of columns of tiny air bubbles).

The walk to the end of the lake was lovely. Great morning light. Mesmerizing ice cracks below. Large mountains above. Giant glaciers. Not a soul to be seen or noise to be heard. No smells. Just sights and tastes if I really wanted to lick up some dirt or ice.


The defile.


Seuss Glacier and Lake Hoare.

When I reached the defile, I began walking the narrow passage up and over to Mummy Lake. That was my original destination, but I had meandered a little too much getting down the lake and didn't have time to make it. That was just fine. I was taking pictures and trying to soak up as much of this magical place as possible, not see as much as possible. It is hard to describe it. It makes me think of a fall day in the woods of New England where my thoughts don't wander any farther than the next bright colored leaf drifting down from the tree tops.


The end of the Seuss Glacier.


The sandy beach in front of the Seuss Glacier just waiting for the ice to melt and small snow kids to come play.


Seuss Glacier.

I have been trying to write this blog entry for a few days and I've struggled to come up with the right words. I'm not sure any words can really describe the experience. It is like a quote that I first saw about marathoning, "For those who understand, no explanation is necessary. For those who do not understand, no explanation will ever do." I'm just going to send this out the door so I can move on to the rest of my time at Lake Hoare. Enjoy!

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The Trip of a Lifetime

When I took this job as a computer tech for the scientists, I didn't think I'd get to travel outside of a single boondoggle (navy term for morale trips during your work day) and the same recreation trips I had done in past seasons. I figured that, just like the computer shop for town, the communications guys would take care of any field work and the grantees would come in from the field to have us service their equipment. So I was very surprised to learn on my second day back, that I was being sent to snow survival school two days later so that I fly out for a field camp put in eight days after being back on the ice!!!!

For the put in, I would be installing the computers at Lake Hoare in the Dry Valleys (77.6233S, 162.905E). All of my trips have been around Ross Island or the sea ice, so I was really excited to finally cross the 60 miles over the sound to the mainland. The McMurdo Dry Valleys are the largest expanse of ice-free ground in Antarctica. The area receives an average precipitation of less than 100mm and it is extremely windy which keeps the area from collecting snow and ice. So few visitors get to the Dry Valleys that they have have remained a mostly pristine environment and have retained their wilderness quality. To quote my friend Betty and make her day, the Dry Valleys are "the closest place on earth to the conditions we imagine might exist on Mars . . . the photos never really do the region justice . . . What's so special about brown rocky mountain peaks and barren valleys? Nothing, except when they're in Antarctica (98% covered by ice) and full of microscopic living organisms (the only ones on the continent!)."


Maps of Ross Island, McMurdo Sound, and the Dry Valleys. The one on the left highlights the Taylor Valley where I went.

The original plan was that I would fly out on Friday, install two computers, test them overnight, and fly out on Saturday. It was a short trip, but I was more than happy to do it for a chance to see the Dry Valleys. Due to some weather delays, my helicopter ride out was pushed to Saturday and since we don't fly on Sunday, I'd be staying until Monday!!!

Here is a time lapse of my flight out:

Narrative of flight:
0:00 Taking off from the helipad at McMurdo Station, Ross Island, Antarctica
0:25 Looking west while flying north over McMurdo Sound
1:10 The Royal Society mountain range
2:15 Ferrar Glacier
2:55 Crossing the Kukri Hills
3:48 Passing over the start of Andrew's Ridge (reference for future blog)
4:00 Lake Hoare with the Seuss Glacier at the far end sliding in from the right
4:10 Lake Hoare Camp with the calved-end of the Canada Glacier in the background

After I arrived at the field camp, I got to work installing the computers and then settled in. I just had to give the computers a solid run through before I left on Monday to ensure they were good to go for the season. When I finished up and was tucking into for the evening, I caught this bit of color over Lake Hoare as the sun was getting ready to set somewhere behind those mountains.


Lake Hoare.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Arcology?

I first learned the word arcology as the end goal of the video game SimCity 2000. Who knew that years later, I'd be living in one of the closest approximations of one . . .

"Arcology . . . is a set of architectural design principles aimed toward the design of enormous habitats (hyperstructures) of extremely high human population density. These largely hypothetical structures would contain a variety of residential and commercial facilities and minimize individual human environmental impact. They are often portrayed as self-contained or economically self-sufficient.

The McMurdo Station of the United States Antarctic Program and other scientific research stations on the continent of Antarctica may most closely approximate the popular conception of an arcology as a technologically-advanced, self-sufficient human community. Although by no means entirely self-sufficient (the U.S. Military "Operation Deep Freeze" resupply effort delivers 8 million gallons of fuel and 11 million pounds of supplies and equipment yearly) the base has a very insular character as a necessary shelter and protection from an extremely harsh environment, is geographically isolated from conventional support networks, and must avoid damage to the surrounding Antarctic ecosystem due to an international treaty. The base generates electricity with its own power plant, and grows fruits and vegetables in a hydroponic green house mainly for limited winter use when resupply is nonexistent. The base also provides a full range of living and entertainment amenities for the 3,000 or so science and support staff that visit each year." -from Wikipedia's entry on Arcology.

Thanks to Evan Jenkins for bringing this to my attention.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

The sun isn't going down anymore!


McMurdo Sound under the first night of the not-so-setting sun

On October 23rd, the sun rose and it won't be going back down again until late February. To be fair, the sun hasn't been going down for me since I got here because I go to sleep early. When I was waking up in the middle of the night, I'd see crazy sunset colors, but the sun was always up.

On the first night the sun didn't officially set, my roommate, Meg, and I went out to ski at 11:15pm to celebrate her beau's teaser clip for his first(?) major ski movie, Signatures. She was bonkers excited and unable to sleep so we went out to play.

Skiing out to the runway away from town is such a treat. I've only skied out a few times, but each time I've been rewarded with the sounds of silence and huge beautiful reminders of why I'm here. It puts me at ease in ways I can't describe. I don't know how anyone could come down here and just stay in town.

Challenge: Who is singing the song in the teaser linked to above? The person who figures that out will get a souvenir from the store here. All we can figure out so far is that it is a cover of Daniel Johnston's "True Love Will Find You in the End."

Under the Sea!!

The red striped area on the left is where this clip was filmed.

Yesterday, a grantee diver uploaded some of his video footage to YouTube and I wanted to share it. It is just amazing that he is diving down there at all in the cold, let alone, the diversity of life. The footage was shot about three-quarter miles from McMurdo Station. On the map above the right orange circle is the station, just north of the left orange circle is where it was filmed.


The seaweed is always greener
In somebody else’s lake
You dream about going up there
But that is a big mistake
Just look at the world around you
Right here on the ocean floor
Such wonderful things surround you
What more is you lookin’ for?
Under the sea

Friday, October 16, 2009

New Address

I've been getting a bunch of requests for my new address:
William Brotman, RPSC
McMurdo Station
PSC 469 Box 700
APO AP 96599-1035

I might have a phone and pager too. If you want those, ask.

What to send? I don't know. I came a lot more prepared than last time. The best thing you could honestly send is a letter or e-mail letting me know how you are. A lot of people back home seem to think their life is boring in comparison to what I am doing down here, but I miss the conversations we would be having about that minutia of life if I were able to spend time with you.

Things to send (someone summed most of these as luxury items that are consumable):

  • Bulk granola cereal from wholefoods or sunflower market would be fantastic.
  • Trader Joe's dried fruit.
  • Froodles from CO springs would be brilliant
  • MyChai concentrate (made in Bend, OR)
  • Reese's Pieces or Peanut Butter cups
  • Energy snacks (Clif, Luna, Jelly Belly Sport, etc)
  • Oregon Chai (accept no substitutes) is always good, but I have a LOT here
  • 'Fancy' microwave meals like 'Tasty Bites' indian food are great (we can buy the basic ones like mac&cheese, soup, etc here)
  • Music or book that you think I'll love
  • Book of crosswords
I didn't add this section last year and got a ton of stuff I couldn't or just didn't use so here is a list of what not to send (because they have a ton on base or I know I won't use it and don't want you to send unnecessary goodies that you could use at home):
  • PACKING PEANUTS (use newspaper or bubble wrap)
  • Hot chocolate (pales compared to the OC!)
  • Batteries
  • Foot Warmers
  • Hand Warmers
  • Trinkety stuff that shouldn't be sent to the most environmentally protected place on earth
  • Computer gear
  • Granola bars
  • Anything I'd want to keep, but is challenging to travel with or ship home
  • Anything I need more than a microwave to cook
  • Drugs or medicines
  • Sheets or clothes

My room's view when I can't sleep

One of the nice things about adjusting to the new timezone down here is that I wake up at times I wouldn't normally be awake and see a part of day I normally wouldn't. My first couple nights, I woke up just before 4am and spent each night working backwards until 1am. Since I didn't have a clock setup yet, I didn't ever know what time it was. I just got up and looked out the window to catch some beautiful colors in the sky. My last summer here I didn't have a window so this is a real treat.


1am view from my room.


1:45am view from my room.

Our current sunrise is at 4am and sunset at 11:30pm. In just under two weeks, the sun will stop setting and I won't have another chance to see the sunrises that I love so much until late February (and no, Katie Folts, sunset isn't just as good as sunrise at a better time).

Current conditions:
Fogged in to less than a quarter mile visibility
-7F ambient
12mph winds
-26F windchill