Invercargill to Stewart Island – 17 miles

12/24/2016
Invercargill to Oban, Stewart Island – 17 miles and a ferry ride

Last night I booked my ferry ticket for this evening, so I knew I could sleep in and relax this morning. I showered again just because, and watched an Avengers cartoon while repacking. I ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant, waffles with fried bananas and bacon. I ran out of internet, but the hotel staff were very happy to look it up for. They checked the Invercargill to Bluff weather (still miserable) and Stewart Island (looking like a day or two of continued shattered showers). I was told that Stewart Island is lovely even in bad weather, ha!

Across the way from the hotel is a bike shop, Wensley’s Cycles. I bought replacement cleats for my bike shoes, and they changed them out for me. What a Christmas present! In better spirits I set out for the last jaunt down to Bluff to the ferry harbor.

I only had 17 miles to ride. The same woman who looked up weather yesterday told me it was for the best that I wouldn’t get to Bluff last night because it is always super windy there. She was too right. The weather report claimed 47 km per hour winds. I can easily agree. I had to grip my handlebars just to maintain control. The wind was at my right, trying to push me off the road at all times. They must have a lot of rain here, too, as all the ditches were dug at high angles down from the road for drainage channeling. A fall would have been brutal. Worse was when trucks would pass me. The ones driving towards me would create a wind vortex, temporarily sucking me backwards. The trucks passing me from behind would simultaneously pull me forward and push me sideways. Scarier but preferable. I was in no hurry, so slowly I made it to Bluff. Once I hit town, at the furthest bottom of South Island, the hill the town is situated beside caused the wind to turn around it, giving me a slight tail wind for the cruise along the wharf! Magnificent!

The ferry to Stewart Island is run by Stewart Island Experience. They have a very nice terminal in Bluff. I was able to secure a space for my bicycle on the voyage over, so no scrambling around to find a place in Bluff! I changed into warm clothes and headed to the Anchorage Cafe where I feasted like a ravenous pig, eating blue cod with a fresh veggie salad and fries, a pint of Speights beer, a lot of water, pavlova and ice cream covered in strawberries and cream, and hot tea. The rains picked up again, but I was snugly inside the cafe with wifi and comfort knowing I was not going back out into the weather.

There was a large crowd for the 5PM boat. I was surprised to see so many people. Especially knowing that the 11AM boat sold out. The winds were still blowing hard which many passengers did not appreciate. It was a tumultuous sea for the ride over. So many seasick people. I was in a mesmerized stupor the whole time, and inappropriately found the suffering people comical. The waves would turn up the boat and I would lose sight of the water on one side and lose the sky on the other. I have always had a special relationship with water. And like I was sitting at the alter of a water goddess, I felt so calm and happy that I almost cried. I was exhausted and didn’t feel it until being propelled across ocean waters with zero physical exertion required on my part whatsoever. I don’t know if I could have been happier at that moment.

Since arriving to Invercargill, the people have been real. I went into the grocery after arriving in Bluff, desperately needing allergy medicine. They had nothing at all. But a sweet woman shared her personal supply with me. Don’t worry, they are the individually wrapped foil pack kind with name and dosage printed on the back. Though honestly, I probably would have taken them anyways. A costumer had already asked if I was crying. My eyes were itching fiercely. Made worse by the debris blown in during the pedal over. Then at the boat building, I was adjusting my bicycle so the luggage man could more easily lift it down the stairs. He was waiting for luggage bins to fill up so they could be crane-lifted onto the boat. When he realized that I hadn’t made reservations yet he quickly grabbed one of the office phones and dialed the hostel for me so I could ask about a bed. He said it would be terrible to arrive with nowhere to go, even if I had a tent. The woman I talked to on the phone, Carol, was so understanding and friendly. She put me in a shared room that didn’t have any other guests for tonight. And they made a space in the shed to store my bike. They are even nice enough to let me keep it there for my hike and to store the gear I won’t take with me. What a friendly family!

Milton to Invercargill – 102 miles

12/23/2016
Milton to Invercargill – 102 miles

My host recommended that I take a detour to the next town. He said the highway was very hilly and not so nice. He thought timing would come out the same because the route was flatter and emptier. I had every intention of taking his advice, but then I reached the detour junction and realized that the town was maybe half the distance as his detour. Hill or no hills, that seemed like an easy choice. I took the highway and had some really lovely downhill cruisers, the ups not that strenuous. The selling point, though, is that clouds rolled in right as I reached Balclutha, 17 miles from the hostel, and I was inside drinking hot tea as a brief rain shower hit.

Today is slow moving. Constant rolling hills, which could be really nice except for the strong headwinds resisting all uphill motion and eliminating the joy of the downhill as I am instead fighting to stay upright from the slight angle of the wind. I fought for 19 more miles then stopped at a cafe in Clinton. I met a nice Canadian couple stopping in for lunch. They are doing a motorbike tour around South Island. Very friendly.

I got back on the road and barely kept up morale on the 26 miles to Gore, where I stopped for lunch at Table Talk Cafe. Let me tell you how low my spirits were. Leaving Clinton, the wind became stronger, the hills continued, the clouds continued to loom overhead, and I made a choice based on advice from the cafe that I should stay on Highway 1. I have no way to know whether I made a good decision. The road turned up, changing the direction I was battered on to my side, but still sufficiently from the front that it didn’t relax any of the resistance. I was pedaling on the downhills just to keep up momentum. On a big uphill, I clipped out a couple times in quick succession. Further investigation revealed that I had all but lost the whole ridge on my left cleat, the right cleat looking not far behind. Not the end of the world, but losing the ability to use quad power to pull the pedal up sucked.

The road turned slightly into several small and closely packed hills, temporarily diminishing the wind. On the far side was a straightaway. I thought maybe finally I would get a break! By then I had been riding quite awhile, feeling like based on time, I should have been passed half way. Then the trifecta… Just as I hit the straight, where the road turned bumpy and shitty, the winds slammed into my face, literally almost pausing my forward motion. I saw a sign for Gore revealing that I was barely half the distance. Then it started to rain. In an anguished scream at the weather gods, a sound only possibly from a person at the lowest point of desperation, I was ready to give up. Fortunately, or unfortunately, one cannot really just stop riding on a trip like this. It is not like I was going to stand around in the cold rain instead of ride through it. What would that have accomplished beyond extending my misery?

At the cafe I sat staring out the window for a long time like a crazed person. If the cafe had not closed, I likely would have sat longer. I knew I would keep going, no matter how bad things were while riding. I think that is why I have a high capacity for activities people find unappealing: hike all day every day for 2660 miles; run samples for two weeks straight, barely getting an hour of sleep each day; bike 100 miles through miserable weather. My answer continues to be “Yeah, sure.” It might suck while you do it, but are there repercussions? Usually not. Are there rewards? I think so. So as quickly as I stop doing that activity, things are immediately improved. Zero incentive to stop myself from doing it again.

I rode an additional 40 miles to Invercargill. What a stupid day. Clearly New Zealand did not get the memo that I am on holiday. The weather is supposed to be perfect. Or at least moderately pleasant. In Gore, at the Golden Age Tavern, a waitress checked the weather for me and it said 33 km per hour winds. I made it into the city at a snail’s pace, barely before dark. Both shoes coming unclipped at an annoyingly frequent rate, usually just on the steeper climbs. Pure misery. With the wind blowing, I had zero interest in setting up my tent, so I headed to a hostel. At 9:30PM on a Friday night, the hostel was locked up with a sign to call for late arrivals. In no mood to find a way to call someone and sit around waiting to then share a dorm, I went to the first hotel I saw. Kevin Hotel. And what a genuinely grand experience.

They were so friendly and accommodating. No one batted an eye at my filthy legs. They talked pleasantly of a hot shower and getting a good night’s rest. I was able to put my bike in a downstairs office to not bother taking it up to my room. The price was well under the cap I made in my head when I decided the convenience of a hotel was worth the money. I had a clean, private, and plush room all to myself up on the fifth floor, overlooking the city. I showered with soap, shampoo, and a rag to finally scrub off the layered-on sunscreen. I sat surrounded by pillows on the giant fluffy bed in my pajamas with my hair wrapped up in a terry cloth towel watching Zoolander 2 while eating snicker bars, banana chips, and free milk from the dairy fridge. I dumped out all my meager possessions just because I could, and so they could air out after two days of rain. I even had wifi! I could not have asked for a better setup. The only damper on the moment was the discovery that my pelvic bones are more than bruised, there is a new development of chaffing from riding in wet shorts for two days. Great timing to be done riding for a bit.

Herbert to Milton – 94 miles

12/22/2016
Herbert to Milton – 94 miles

I slept so well last night! Not a hard sleep, just rejuvenating. It looked like clouds were stirring this morning so I didn’t waste time hitting the road. I rode 31 miles to Waikouaiti where I stopped for coffee and a scone. My bum appreciates the breaks I have been taking every two hours, especially when it involves a soft padded chair. It also helps break up the day. Let’s me aim for shorter 20-30 mile segments instead of thinking about the whole day’s distance. The highway is easy to follow so I only pull out the map during breaks to make sure I am not dallying too slowly. Waikouaiti was my goal for last night. Had I made more miles the first day, I think I definitely would have made it.

What a brutal day so far. That big climb turned out to be a series of increasing climbs, 25 miles of them. Then, at the top of the last climb, when I was just handful of miles away, I saw a sign depicting that the road was closed to bicycles. I just rode up a beastly climb (not Gibraltar Road beastly but arduous all the same) and then was directed to a side road for the descent. Any cyclist will tell you that pedaling your ass off to get to the top of a hill is worth it because of the victorious downhill on the other side, where you just need to hold on for dear life and let gravity bring you down. Instead, I was siphoned off on a 3 mile downhill gravel road. Joy. It was very pleasant once I finally hit the pavement. Very few cars overall. Though I cannot help thinking about this climb for my return trip. What a dreadful day that will be.

Despite my bickering about topography, today has hands down been the most beautiful. All morning had the cool calmness that rain clouds have a way of causing. I rode up on a sleepy lake with black swans and a single white swan. So lovely. Then I immediately encountered the coast and actually rode along the wave crashing bluffs for awhile. Following my morning break is when the hills started up, but the views were stunning. So much green! Maybe I am easily impressed right now, I mean I did just return from the desolate Antarctic mountains, but the rolling hills and trees swaying in the wind. I have loved every view today. And the sheep have been particularly entertaining. They don’t even look up for a noisy semi truck, but my riding by has the power to send them running. I have been amusing myself With whistling and singing out once I am close to a flock of sheep on alert. They do not find it funny. My new goal is to get a whole mob of sheep running for their lives.

I spoke too soon about Dunedin. Officially my least favorite place so far. On top of a long rain delay, the highway turns into a motorway heading south out of town. Instead of 8 miles along the motorway, I had to turn back into the city and take a ridiculous path that involved a winding 12 miles with three unnecessary big climbs in the pouring rain on roads with minimal shoulders. I should have grabbed fast food and hit the road right away. After about two hours in the rain, I stubbornly just kept moving.

I did see an incredible sight this afternoon, a herd of one hundred or more deer! No exaggeration . I have never seen so many deer in one place. They were just helping themselves to the grassy grove in a field of grain. It was crazy. I also have a new success on the startling of farm animals. I coerced a tiny horse to run along with me for the whole duration of its field, maybe 300 meters long. I was so delighted!

In total I rode another 38 miles to Milton. I was pretty over cycling when I arrived there. My feet had been cold and wet for hours, the air felt cold because my bike shorts were still mostly wet, and then the sun finally decided to come out again just in time to start setting. I needed a morale booster and supper was the ticket. I ate a huge meal of pork belly, mash potatoes, roasted vegetables, red cabbage salad, and chocolate cake with cream and ice cream at the Fork n the Road restaurant. Yes, that brought me back to happiness. I am 16 miles short of my intended mileage, but it was late and I was ready to stop moving. I am staying at the Happy Inn Backpackers. It is a quiet hostel with a cheap, warm bed and shower. Somewhere dry to hang my clothes. It is just what I needed. And the owner is a friendly German-Swiss man who taught me to juggle. Seriously, I had three bean bags up to 8 or 9 turn-overs before losing a bag. I feel like I need to expand this skill. I am now on the lookout for a set of six bean bags. A career at the carnival may be in my future yet!

Ashburton to Herbert – 115 miles

12/21/2016
Ashburton to Herbert – 115 miles

Today felt long. I am glad to be snuggled down for bed right now. I had a better start time today, though I am thinking maybe I should hit the road earlier to avoid late afternoon. The is the side of me that’s burned and the heat really feels brutal without shade.

To keep my panniers as light as possible, I am not really carrying any food. I have a bunch of snicker bars and banana chips for snacking. I have been buying breakfast from the grocery the night before. Then lunch and supper are eating out. I feel like this is the optimal way to make sure I am appropriately fed as measured by quality and healthiness over quantity.

I rode a solid 42 miles before stopping to lunch at Bernie’s Bakery HQ in Timaru. Late afternoon I stopped at the lone cafe marking the turn onto SH82 off from SH1 leading to Waimate. Unfortunately their water tank has just broken, so I settled on a cold ginger beer then set back out.

The views been quite pleasant today. I saw the ocean a few hundred meters from the road. The was the closest the road came, but I caught views off and on all day. Beautiful. And peaceful. I had light head winds all day, so I am blaming that for moving so slowly today. Though I am also fighting through some major saddle soreness. I could see the mountains all day! This was a great thing, but briefly around Temuka and continuously passed Oamaru those beautiful mountains turned into a lot of ups and downs. The owner from last night’s campground told me the way was flat until just before Dunedin, so I am definitely not looking forward to hills for tomorrow.

Sights also included lots of farms, sheep, tiny horses, cows, llamas, and, strangely, an abundance of broken bungee cords on the side of the road. Very little roadside litter, but I consistently see broken bungee cables in addition to dead birds and squished (quilled rodent). I saw a sign for wallabies, but I am not I will see any.

After my cold drink break, I rode 31 miles to Oamaru, the steampunk capital in New Zealand, and supped at Cucina Restaurant & Bar. Very high class. I picked the place because I could watch my bike through the window. Fortunately 6pm is somewhat early for the supper crowd so they didn’t scoff at my sunblock glistening legs covered in spattered bugs. I had a lovely meal, but it felt a bit dainty, so I stopped by the grocery and scarfed down a pint of Tip Top’s brand “Saucy Caramel.” Just what my sweet tooth wanted!

I contemplated staying in Oamaru, but my map app led me to think if I got those last 16 miles in, I would be perfectly set up for a 90 mile day tomorrow. Having looked at the numbers in actuality, I am 151 miles from the desired stop. Instead I am going to stop sooner. There is supposed to be a gnarly climb tomorrow! Anyway, I rode 16 miles more to Herbert Forest Camping Ground in the tiny town of Herbert. $12.50 NZD provided me a completely empty upper campground (I missed the main camp somehow), a hot shower (though brilliantly I left my shampoo in the shower last night), and a kitchen. I even plugged my phone in for a charge. New Zealand is incredibly camp friendly!

Christchurch to Ashburton – 58 miles

12/20/2016
Christchurch to Ashburton – 58 miles

Yesterday we arrived safely at Christchurch in the LC130. Demian and I collected our bags and headed for the hotel. They booked us at the Sudima Hotel, across the street from the CDC. Perfect distance! I think I literally slept most of the 8 hour flight back to New Zealand. LC130’s are loud and our flight was full. So piled in like sardines, shoulder-to-shoulder and knees-across-knees, I tried my best curl up on my mesh space and slept hard. Despite that nap, I was feeling pretty worn out still. At the hotel, I emptied my bags on the floor, changed into a dress, and watched movies while I attempted to pack and sort out my bike trip items. When I could no longer hold off hunger, I went and found Demian. We walked over to Little India for supper. I stopped at the grocery to buy razors, a pint of ice cream, and snacks for my trip. My legs haven’t seen daylight or a shave for over two months now. It was time. Anyways, this morning I had ambitions for an early start on my cycling trip. Instead I arrived at the CDC to drop off my bags and received the message that travel needed to see me. They needed to push my flights a day later and then actually book them. I sat waiting until just after 1PM. So much for a strong first day. I road straight through all afternoon until stopping for supper at Robbie’s Bar & Bistro in Ashburton. I looked at my distances and decided to stop for the day at Tinwald Camping Ground in Ashburton. It is a lovely place, and the owner is quite friendly and encouraging about my trip. For $16 NZD I have a camp site, shower, outlets, and TV room. After a quick shower I retired to the TV room where I am watching National Treasure with Nicholas Cage and charging my battery. My goal is to sleep early and hit the road early tomorrow. Day one done. My pelvis feels bruised, my quads are tight, my hands are still numb, and in my typical style, I am sunburned. About 300 miles to go!

Clothing in Antarctica

12/16/2016

While preparing for this trip to Antarctica, I was completely lost for what clothes to bring. Normally a few hours filing through the bowels of the internet produces more information than I desired. Antarctica was different. And I didn’t really understand why until having been through the whole experience. The majority of people who come through the U.S. station stay at McMurdo. That means they are in a small village, with heated buildings, unlimited hand and toe warmers, warm and cooked meals three times a day, access to drinking water of a variety of temperatures, access to motorized transportation, and within a very short time from a SAR team.

I was not preparing for that type of experience. I was preparing to spend weeks in the middle of nowhere living in a tent. The activities involving skidoo travel and hiking around. My support team a party of two plus me. There are people going out like we did, but apparently none of them (or few enough that I could not find their blogs) are writing about the clothing situation. So as a service to future field people going to Antarctica, I want to add my thoughts to the internet searching.

The CDC (Clothing Distribution Center) in Christchurch issues a bunch of clothing called the Extreme Cold Weather (ECW) gear. Briefly, the ECW issued to me included:
1x Big Red – the giant red down parka;
1x Little Red – a small wind jacket;
1x polar fleece jacket;
1x coveralls;
1x polar fleece pants;
1x Bunny Boots – insulated rubber boots
1x fleece balaclava
2x fleece neck gaiters
1x polar fleece cap
1x insulated leather work gloves
1x waterproof mittens
1x leather mittens
2x polypropylene gloves
1x Bear Claws – “fur”-backed gloves
1x goggles
2x duffle bags

Everyone receives slightly different allocations depending on where they are going and their expected weather conditions. The items I brought myself are explained further below:

BOOTS and SOCKS.
Per John’s advice, I specifically bought boots for this trip since I needed warmth and the ability to hike in them. I bought La Sportiva Spantiks. And I loved them! They were recommended to me as the boot of choice for Denali climbers. I wore really thin silk sock liners under thick expedition-style wool socks. That combo was perfect. My feet were never cold as long as my feet were not cold already prior to going into the boot or the boot was wet. This was most noticeable on the skidoo rides, when I didn’t have the ability to pump blood back into my feet. Even with the thick socks, one size larger than I would wear without socks in the Spantiks was perfect. While hiking, especially after my socks had been worn awhile, they almost felt loose. But I liked these boots best because the heel is snug, so my feet didn’t move around a lot. It is a double boot, and both boots use a single hand threading system to eliminate the need for tying knots. Occasionally my outer strings would come loose, but I could put them on and tie them up without taking off my gloves. And the inner boot never untied because the strings end at a Velcro attachment so the boot itself didn’t come loose. The Spantiks are considered the warmest boot of their style, especially considering how light they are for an expedition boot. I normally hike in running shoes, so it took me a bit to figure out the difference in balance and foot size, but overall I was extremely happy. I used both the Smartwool and REI brand expedition socks. They are the only thick wool socks of their kind. I didn’t notice a difference in warmth or odor blocking. I do think the REI socks maintained shape better after repeated wears without washings. The downside to both brands is the expense. But as I already alluded to, I wore the same few pairs of socks instead of having an abundance of spares. The silk liners, in fact, did not block odor and I definitely wanted to change them more than I ever felt the need to change the wool socks.

BOTTOMS.
I wore Patagonia wool unders beneath Smartwool midweight thermal pants under waterproof ski pants. The ECW coveralls were more comfortable, but I liked the ski pants better for toilet use (bonus toilet section at end of this post). Plus my coverall straps were not actually long enough and I didn’t like dealing with them. The issues pants would have been sufficient, it was a personal choice to favor the pants. If hanging out at camp in the tent, I would prefer the coveralls because the legs completely unzip, making them a lot faster to slip on for a quick run to the toilet tent, like we had set up at our Gabbro Hills camp. Our Miller Range camp toilet was outside unprotected, so I preferred regular pants for lower skin exposure. The coveralls would have been nicer for skidoo travel because I frequently caught drafts up my back that only windproof layers could protect for. I don’t have a lot to say here. My legs don’t typically become cold, so pants were not an issue for me. I do really love Patagonia’s Barely Bikini wool underwear. It is soft, odor resistant, and durable. I have been a few generations and they are a quality item. I honestly think they are the only wool underwear I would recommend. Most brands have unflattering styles are uncomfortable cuts, in my opinion. Not even Smartwool makes the cut. Their underwear seams break easily and quickly unravel. They aren’t very flexible around the leg holes either, I often chafe in Smartwool unders.

TOPS.
I wore an Athleta Full Focus sport bra beneath a midweight long sleeve top covered with a Patagonia zip up fleece jacket. ECW includes a fleece jacket but I found it too bulky for comfort with all the other layers. Then I would wear a combination of outer layer jackets depending on the weather and activity. For skidoo travel, I liked Big Red best. My biggest issue was pockets. I never had enough pockets. Even with a pack on, I needed quick access to my field journal, Sharpee markers, GPS, and camera. And technically I had a satellite phone on my person too. Sometimes I would then add a hammer and/or chisels. So pickets were my problem. Yes, I could have stored all of that in my pack, constantly taking it off and putting it on. But when you are in -30 degree Farenheit weather before accounting for the wind, the goal every time is efficiency. Rummaging around in a pack is not efficient. I liked tops with thumb holes best. Sometimes I had so many layers on that a lost sleeve meant frozen fingers if I de-gloved to fish it out or a cold arm if I did not. Thumb holes also usually means longer sleeves in general, which I personally really like. I find that REI has really jumped onboard with adding quality thumb holes in their winter tops. Patagonia also does a fine job. I had one top with a slim hood. I do not normally find hoods useful as a hat is always warmer, but I really liked the added neck cover without the bulk of a balaclava. My last advice would be to always tuck in your shirt. As mentioned already, the back draft was wretched. Sometimes the skidoo ride would be so bumpy that I needed my hands to hold on and if my coat came up, a tucked in shirt was my only line of defense from freezing winds cutting through the fleece layers.

I am obviously of the crowd who favor layering over fewer bulkier items. The worst thing was to sweat because literally the moment you stop walking, your damp clothes become cold. This was frustrating when balancing skidoo travel with short hikes up outcrops. It was a constant change between producing no heat and too much heat. Hence my love of Big Red. I could put on a huge jacket for the skidoo ride and then quickly shed a bunch of heat as we started walking. I liked putting Little Red over my own wind shell jacket. Both had a few pockets and Little Red was quite large, so they fit nicely together will stopping the wind without over-insulating me while hiking.

GLOVES.
This is where I struggled most. ECW includes so many gloves, I didn’t really think about needing to prepare here as much as I should have. I brought one pair of two-layer waterproof down gloves. I wore these a lot for skidoo travel. They were too warm when driving because the skidoos have heated handlebars, but they were perfect as passenger. I rarely wore liners with these gloves, they are designed to not need additional liners. I ended up wearing the polypropylene gloves as my liners for the leather work gloves. That wasn’t quite warm enough, especially once my leather gloves gained holes. Part of the problem was not having gloves that fit well. The leather gloves either had too slim of fingers to fit liners under or the fingers were way too long. I needed to be able to go from the padded protection and dexterity of a work glove for hammering rocks to extra dexterity for taking field notes and pushing GPS buttons. I do not think that I accomplished an appropriate glove setup, so I will stop here. I also had a weird numb hand problem that compounded that problem.

HATS and NECK GAITERS.
I mostly wore fleece-lined knit hat of my own. While on the skidoo, I would put on another hat that has ear flaps. When sleeping I wore a thin wool Ice Breakers beanie. The ECW included two fleece neck gaiters, but I found them coarse and for some reason they would frost over really quickly. I bought a silky to the touch fleece gaiter in McMurdo. I liked it best. I wish it had been longer though, so I could have pulled it up over my nose without exposing the bottom of my neck. That said, I still preference it over the issued ones which were longer. I brought wool gaiters with me that I normally like for skiing, but I never wore them. I think they would have frosted too quickly.

It isn’t much, but maybe someone will get some tips from this. The last section is mostly on female toilet advice.

PEE-AID DEVICE.
I am told females are normally issued pee funnels and given a run down on female hygiene. This was not done for me or even mentioned, so my advice is my own and likely does not reflect the habits of other females in Antarctica. I have a device called the P-Style. It looks like a scoop spoon. Most female pee aids are funnels, but I am not a fan for several reasons. The biggest reason is that when I am cold and need to pee, the last thing I want to do after stuffing a frozen plastic funnel against my lady parts is have to hold back the force with which my bladder wants to evacuate. It is also unsatisfying to not just let it all out. I find funnels limiting in this regard because they can only drain at a maximum rate. An open sided device like mine, however, will simply flow faster since the fluid is only restricted on three sides. This in fact leads to the second selling point for me, I only have to worry about positioning the device far enough back, rather than pay attention to both the backward and forward positions. Maybe other females don’t find that to be a problem, but I often started peeing without feeling 100% confident that the device was in the correct place. The reason you want a simplified design, in my opinion, is because it was bloody cold. Every task, no matter how basic, it a challenge when it requires the exposure of skin at -40 degrees Fahrenheit. This is one reason I preferences pants over coveralls. I could pull down the pants just far enough to gain access to my thermals and then shove the P-Style in place and the solid plastic kept the waist band pushed out of the way. All I had to do was sort of dip my hips down forward so the device could drain down. One brilliant gear item in Antarctica is a pee bottle. It is a white Nalgene with blue lid and big yellow sticker. As long as I was peeing into a bottle, I could expose the least amount of skin while peeing. I even mastered peeing into the bottle while kneeling in my sleeping bag. A big challenge for funnels is that you not only need to keep the whole top flush with your skin to prevent gaps, you also have to allow for the angle of the funnel spout at the bottom. The only design change I would make is either slightly taller side walls or maybe a tiny ridge around the top. With gloves on I didn’t have much leverage to hold the device without having at least one finger pressing down the top to keep my grip. I very nearly pressed that finger down into the pee flow on more than a few occasions. Other than that, it is brilliant. And very easy to clean since it’s a single shape with no connecting points. And there is the option for a little canvas pouch to store it in. Mine has octopuses on it.

Safe passage

12/14/2016

With many activities that I partake in, there is a certain challenge in describing my motivations. For me the answer can always be summed up by “Why not?” Many people require more of something to wrap their head around such logic. Coming to Antarctica, however, I feel like few people asked that question. Maybe I have finally broken through the need for explanation on why I choose the things I do? I actually think it is something different. I have seen it in people’s faces at McMurdo too. We are in Antarctica. This is truly one of the last places on the planet that cannot be freely traveled by anyone with the ambition. And even those who do make it down, I suspect most are restricted by how that access was gained. Though there are those rare expeditions and Vinson Massif summit teams, few people get to really experience the sights of Antarctica. One group of people may have found a way. They are the flight teams from Kenn Borek Air, the U.S. Air Force, and the Royal New Zealand Air Force. And I owe a lot of gratitude to many of these people for my safe transport around the continent. Thank you!

To give a brief glimpse into my flight experiences, and maybe spread a thought of support for these incredible people, I want to tell my flight experiences and show the different aircraft I was privileged to be a passenger in while in Antarctica.

My flight from Christchurch to McMurdo was on a Boeing 757-200 flown by the Royal New Zealand Air Force No. 40 Squadron. Maybe it is becoming more common for these large commercial aircraft to land on the continent, but I felt like I was experiencing a rare opportunity. It was a luxury flight compared to standard flights to Antarctica. We had cushioned seats, windows, the quiet interior of a commercial plane, and they packed us a sack lunch. It was fantastic!

RNZAF Boeing 757
RNZAF Boeing 757

My flight into the Miller Range was on a Basler BT-67 (Turbine DC-3) aircraft. There were three crew members. They have a payload limit of 8,500 pounds (including fuel weight), so are the primary cargo hauler for field teams and fuel drops. It was a beautiful day and the crew were all incredibly nice. Kenn Borek Air is based out of Canada, so the pilots are all Canadian bush pilots. My personal experience is that they are all wonderful and interesting people.

KBA Basler BT-67 (Turbine DC-3)
KBA Basler BT-67 (Turbine DC-3)

Shuttles from Miller Range to Shackleton Camp, Shackleton Camp to Gabbro Hills, and Gabbro Hills to Shackleton Camp where all through the efforts of the crews flying Twin Otters (DHC6). These are smaller planes (3,500 lb payload) on skis. They are the nimble flyers for Antarctic missions. They provide a lot of support for science teams because they have the ability to land and takeoff on a wide range of unprepared landing surfaces on sea ice and glaciers and seawater.

Twin Otters (DHC6)
Twin Otters (DHC6)

Returning from Shackleton to McMurdo, we flew with our cargo on an LC-130, a ski-equipped version of the U.S. Air Force C-130 Hercules operated by the New York Air National Guard (recent article here). This is a monster of a plane. It was designed for combat transport and has a hinged loading ramp at the rear of the fuselage to dump out cargo by the pallet load.

U.S. Air Force LC-130
U.S. Air Force LC-130

It’s over just like that

12/12/2016

We are back in McMurdo and the process happened quite quickly. On the 10th, it only took three Twin Otter flights to move back to Shackleton Camp. I am beginning to think of Shackleton as the resort of Antarctica, a peaceful and secluded place with all the desired amenities (though lacking WiFi). We had two overnights to re-pack bags, palletize our cargo, shower (with soap this time!), and decompress after coming out of the field. Today we loaded onto an LC-130 and arrived at McMurdo this afternoon. The whole trip seems like a blur. But just like that, the whole season is over, and we are preparing for our departure off of this continent. The end of one adventure always leads into another, but I cannot help feeling a more solid finality for this one. I do not know if I will ever return to this place. I do not foresee my return right now. Though I am also not one to set my future in stone.

Coming to a close

12/9/2016

Yesterday we decommissioned one of the skidoos. Since we are unable to leave the immediate area around camp, we used the one working skidoo to shuttle to the bottom of the ridge overlooking camp and changed our agenda to a hiking mission. The goal had been to skidoo all the way around the outer ridge, sampling along the way. Instead we hiked straight to the top of the nearest peak. We did not cover as much exposure as we would have liked, but we probably accessed better rocks than we would have had access to from below.

Looking out, we had the best views of all of Lillie Range. It was mesmerizing. Unfortunately the Prince Olav Mountains were cloud covered. What a life we lead. We may be the only people to ever climb that peak. It was a rare and peaceful moment. As we hiked back to the skidoo with our packed weighed down with rocks, I felt like I was on another planet, stumbling around an unknown Martian paradise.

Today is our last day in Gabbro Hills. The weather was beautiful today, but with only one skidoo there was nowhere we could go. We are mostly packed up and ready for our flights tomorrow. We are headed back to Shackleton Camp and then to McMurdo.

Demian’s breakout role

12/7/2016

Today was an interesting day. We had a slight delay as I worked with Fixed Wing to coordinate the camp pull out. When we finally walked out to the skidoos, neither one would start. Both skidoos were dead. We went through the skidoo troubleshooting guide to try to solve the problem ourselves. Having already tried our hands as skidoo mechanics, we felt confident that we could figure out the problem (see post from 11/14/16). Nothing was working. We changed the spark plugs, checked for leaks, checked the filters, pressurized the carburetor lines, and drained the fuel lines and carburetor. After checking all the things on our end, Evan called Tony at the MEC for further advice. We had already speculated that the problem was fuel related, hence draining the fuel lines. After going through all the symptoms again with Tony, he thought maybe we had a MOGAS barrel instead of PREMIX. We sent Demian out to check the barrels at the fuel cache. This was a priceless moment. Even was talking with Tony, Tony detailing a lot of complex information over the phone. Suddenly we heard Demian shout out while running back to the tent, “Problem solved! Problem solved!” He ripped open the tent door as Evan quietly asked, “Is it MOGAS?” Demian interjected, “Aviation fuel” with a matter-of-fact head shake. “No kidding?” pipes in Evan. Another head shake from Demian, “Aviation fuel.” Demian zipped up the tent door as Evan turned back to his conversation with Tony, “That’s really bad.” Did I mention that I caught the whole scene on video? I cannot describe how many times we replayed this scene. It is a combination of ridiculousness and amazement that two skidoos have been running on aviation fuel for the last week.

The absurdity of the aviation fuel discovery was added to with us deciding to get in a full day of sampling still. We left camp right at 5PM and did not return until just before midnight. One skidoo broke again by the end of the day, so we towed it back to camp. Too long of a day. But at least we made it out. We only have so many days at this location, so I am glad to work longer days if that means we are able to access more areas. We filled just over three boxes with rocks today. Day well spent.