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, 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.
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.
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.
May 2, 83 05.31'N:77 26.26'W
It's almost like we never left. So much of traveling on the Arctic Ocean is routine. Waking up this morning in the tent was so familiar that it seemed eerily like last year. That is, until we looked outside.
We opted to sleep in as we didn't get dropped off at Cape Discovery until very late yesterday, but we were on the trail soon enough. Looking around it was easy to see we weren't in Russia anymore. The mountains of Ellesmere Island in the background, the Ward Hunt ice shelf looming to the east. And sunshine. Beautiful bright manificent sun. (we had two or three suuny days total last year.)
We opted for skis for the fist hour of travel. It would be the last time we would wear them all day. The ice we encountered after the flat ended was massively pressured, drifted in and filled with large swaths of rubbled ice. It was slow progress at best but we still managed to pick our way through .
So many times we'd scout the ice ahead and think, 'there's no way through this.' but slowly, and with lots of boat twisting, we would make it.
And make it we did. Today we travelled a mind numbing 3.75 miles - an amazing distane for us so early with bad ice.
At the end of our first full day we are optimistic about the future. We are a bit nervous, too, with only two days ticked off of an unimaginable 120. But most of all, we are just really tired.
April 30, Resolute
The expedition got off to an inauspicious start today as we experienced a slight role shift. With nearly 70 Spaniards needing to get to the airport, we became, of all things, taxi drivers.
They say adventures come in all shapes and sizes, and driving a van full of Spanish tourists singing their national anthem (judging by the volume and fervor of their efforts) will not be long forgotten. But it was a means to an end: our equipment and boats were at a cargo warehouse near the airport.
With the safe arrival of our gear came other welcome news: there is a possibility of a 2 pm departure for northern Ellesemere Island and our take off. The information was rude awakening to our small group. We have to get packed and ready to go by Monday morning. Needless to say, we got to work immediately. Rationing fuel, a final gear check, putting greenpeace stickers... our small room is a flurry of expedition preparation.
We are ready to go, but our experience tells us to check our excitement. The 'Ice Warriors' waited eight days for good flying conditions. This is the north where anything can change anytime. The ice, the snow. Even explorers: arctic travelers one minute, taxi drivers the next.
