July 6, 89 56.24'N: 104 56.03W
Day 67. The wind picked up considerably last night, or at least, what we call the night. The gusts also brought the biggest rain storm we've had to date. We hesitate to say it 'poured' but a steady drizzle lasted well into the morning. The hard wind-packed snow of yesterday turned to mush, slush and any other 'ush' word you might want to make up.
We traveled toward the North Pole in order to find a suitable ice pan to support a helicopter. It wasn't easy. The ice we have been traveling on the past week is relatively thin - 3 feet or so. We needed something over six feet thick. We skied through slush and large meltwater pools that were as deep as our shins. More water skiing. Eventually, we found an old pan, set up the tent and called in to confirm our position.
We took a little extra time to sort and inventory gear. All of our equipment seems to have survived the journey with little damage. Most noticeable are the sled-canoes. These boats have carried our supplies, and us at times, for nearly 700 miles of the most severe conditions imaginable. Despite this they look brand new!
This is our last camp. We ate our last meal of noodles and crawled in the tent for one last sleep. However, we are hesitant to fully close our eyes just yet. Instead, we unzip the tent door and steal one last glance after another at the scene beyond.
Let's be honest here: We are looking forward to enjoying some of even the simplest modern conveniences, seeing friends and family and maybe a glass of orange juice, but not just yet.
It has been hard to get to know this place. It definitely doesn't happen all at once. A piece here, an experience there. An insight gained. Hours that turn into days and days that add into months. It is so easy to think that all this emptiness is just ice, snow and water. It's not.
We wish we had the space and time to list all the things we have learned - about ourselves, teamwork, perseverance, and most importantly, the current state of the Arctic Ocean's sea ice.
What should we do we do with all the knowledge we've gleaned from this journey? We are only now beginning to imagine the effect of this expedition on our future.
One thing's for sure, we'll appreciate tables a lot more. And solid ground. Trees, definitely trees. The relationships of friends and family who have supported us for so long. Clean underwear will be nice. So will summer - a Minnesota summer.
Those are, of course, all the tangible things that affect our immediate future. More uncertain are months from now when these experiences have gained the benefit of distance and time. What kind of people will we be then? Will we be different? Probably not much. But we won't be the same, either.
We are glad for this experience. It has reinforced our love of wild spaces and our desire to help protect them. Our resolve to stop global warming has only been strengthened.
We are also pleased that you have taken this perilous expedition with us. By connecting to the internet, reading these blogs, you too have begun the first steps of a great adventure. You have learned about the Arctic Ocean, seen its moods and subtleties, learned about global warming and, hopefully, added one of 200,000 signatures to a petition to get the polar bear listed as an endangered species.
From here, let us continue together. This journey is really only beginning. Global warming is something that affects us all.
We will not be able to update the web site for the next 6 or 7 days while we travel through Russia - no satellite phones allowed. In our stead the multi-faceted, multi-lingual, multiplication whiz, John Huston, will keep you posted. More news, global warming info, more expedition gear, more highlights, future speaking engagements and perhaps some juicy tidbits about Huston, the man behind the myth.
Don't worry. We'll be writing more and more as soon as possible. There is lots of work to be done in the fight to stop global warming and help save the polar bear. We are rolling up our sleeves.
Word of the day: endeavor - to stop global warming.
July 5, 89 59.17'N: 108 56.03W
Day 66. From Lonnie: On May 1, 2006, Eric and I embarked on an unprecedented journey to the North Pole. To get here, we pulled and paddled specially modified canoes across 700 miles of shifting sea ice and open water of the arctic ocean. Our objectives were to complete the first-ever summer expedition to the North Pole to help save the polar bear by bringing attention to the growing issues surrounding global warming. On July 1, 2006 after 62 grueling days, the we attained the North Pole.
After sustaining a serious strain to my back early in the expedition and after evaluating the rapidly deteriorating and dangerous ice conditions, I decided to not attempt the increasingly hazardous journey back to Greenland from the North Pole.
Further travel would put us in a life-threatening situation with little chance of rescue. The ice pans on which we travel are fractured into a maze of open water which extends from land to the Pole. These ice conditions are very susceptible to fast-moving ocean currents, which push east toward the open ocean. The planned route to land is breaking up unusually early.
As the expedition leader it is my responsibility to weigh all of the options, including the safest possible evacuation if it is deemed necessary. In order to avoid a search and rescue operation that would put persons at unnecessary risk, I have been researching vessels already in the area so in the event of an evacuation, we could leave on a vessel in close proximity. A Russian icebreaker (with a helicopter) is on a scheduled excursion to the North Pole and will be enlisted for a routine pick up.
While reaching the North Pole has been a major truimph and unprecedented first, this expedition has always been more about exposing the dangers of global warming and the plight of the polar bear than our physical journey. We will continue our quest to stop global warming and save the polar bear long into the future.
July 4, 89 57.14'N: 144 09.45W
Day 65. We no longer have to melt snow for drinking and cooking. We simply camp next to a meltwater pool and fill all our nalgene bottles and cook pots with all the fresh water we want. This of course saves greatly on our fuel.
Lonnie decided to have his second bath in 64 days. A ground pad to stand on and two quart thermoses filled with warm water is hardly the full spa treatment but, given the circumstances, more than sufficient. Lonnie was waiting for the wind to die down a bit, but it never did. The trick is to stop the shower just before hypothermia sets in.
Eric opted for slightly less drastic personal grooming measures. He put on a clean pair of underwear.
We spent a lot of time talking about the Fourth of July, parades, fireworks and that segued into some of the things we miss about home.
Luckily, John Huston forwarded us several emails from well wishers back home and around the globe. It is nice to know there is so much support for our endeavor and for protecting the polar bear.
The U.S. Government will decide on endangered species act protection by year's end. The settlement of a recent lawsuit requires the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to complete its "12-month" finding on whether polar bears should be listed under the Endangered Species Act by Dec. 27, 2006.
Today's picture: Lonnie warming up after his shower.
Word of the day: epicurean - Do Clif bars count in this definition? Then that's us.
July 4, 89 59.59'N
Day 64. We finally got that rest day we had been hoping for. We were planning to sleep in; however, spent much of the morning (and rest of the day) fielding questions from reporters over our satellite phone.
A special thanks goes out to the Greenpeace media department for coordinating our calls. We feel this is time well spent as it allows us to talk to a larger audience about some of the dramatic changes due to global warming that we are seeing. We also were able to tell our polar bear story which is always a good bridge to talking about how global warming is affecting them.
The remainder of the day was fairly uneventful; the exception being food. Even though we are not travelng our stomachs are still in 'acquire calories' mode. While no one was looking we added additional cheese and salami to our dinner.
The sun came out for the first time in a long while and we were amazed at the ice all around us. It is on days like today that we really begin to fathom how vast this place is.
But it is not infinite. The ice on the Arctic Ocean has already decreased by an area twice the size of Texas since the late 1980s. Scientists also believe the Arctic Ocean will be ice free in summer in less than 50 years. That does not bode well for the polar bear.
The bright sun has kept us up longer than we would like. Not a big worry as the Hilleberg Hotel is warm and cozy and we are planning on another rest day tomorrow. Hopefully, we will dream of all the things we miss so very far away.
Today's picture: ice and snow. The july 3rd view of the Arctic Ocean... under sunny skies.
Word of the day: leisure - nothing too fast or difficult for us today.
July 2, 89 59.59'N
Day 63. We woke up in the eastern hemisphere singing old Beatles songs... 'back in the USSR'. Last night we drifted 3.5 miles south toward Siberia: the exact opposite direction of where we expected (and hoped) to drift and need to go. So, we had to delay our much needed rest.
With images of our sleeping bags and an extra Clif bar floating in front of us, we trudged back toward the North Pole where we are currently (once again) camped.
The wind has finally started to die down and hopefully the drift will slow down as well. Better still, would be ice movement toward Greenland so we can just relax and take our minds off the ice for a few days, but we'll believe that when it happens.
The day started with a nice summer rain. Big drops soaked our jackets and fogged our glasses. Luckily, it only lasted for 10 minutes or so. The ice was fairly kind to us, but it was still slow going. By day's end, we had skied through numerous melt pools 3 to 6 inches deep - our snow skis turning suddenly into water skis.
We are now getting quite good at locating the north pole by dead reckoning. We keep the wind in our face and the sun over our right shoulder. Today, we paddled the last 1/8th mile down a lead to the Pole, then set up camp on an old floe nearby.
In the end after a tiring day we had no net mileage gain. Tomorrow will be a rest day (hopefully). We have big plans of laying around and doing nothing. Perhaps in the afternoon we will go for a walk around the world.
Today's Picture: Lonnie and Eric display the Greenpeace banner on the North Pole.
Word of the day: cosmopolitan - you know, because we're in the eastern hemisphere. How international!
July 1, 89 59.59'N
Day 62. At 4 am this morning, Eric froze in his sleeping bag. Not from being cold, but rather to try to discern a noise outside that sounded a lot like footsteps in the soft snow.
There have been many times where both of us have mistaken a random noise as something more formidable than a snow flap blowing in the wind. On a completely calm night, even the thump of your heart beating resonates through the sleeping bag nylon like the steady footfalls of a stalking predator. But this was different than all those other sounds.
This was a polar bear walking a few feet from our tent. A polar bear exactly one mile from the North Pole.
We managed to quickly scare the bear away with a 'bear banger' flare. It wasn't in a big hurry to leave and stopped frequently to sniff the air. By this time, Lonnie had the video camera running and caught a few farewell glances on tape. We hurriedly put our boots on to assess the scene.
The bear had followed our ski tracks into camp. It came from down wind to disguise its scent and used several small drifts to hide behind as it stalked us. Then, it circled slowly around the tent, coming 5 feet from Lonnie's head.
It was not aggressive. It did not damage any equipment. It was 10 feet away on its way back to the lead when Eric first saw it. To us, it seemed more curious than anything else.
We are on fairly young ice. There are hundreds of leads all around. We have seen seals nearly every day for the last week. So, it seems plausible that a polar bear could be in the vicinity.
But 550 miles from land? On the very same day we would eventually attain the North Pole on an expedition whose mission was to protect the polar bear. Apparently so.
Yesterday, we were searching for meaning and not finding it. This morning it walked within 60 inches of us. We find it difficult to not draw a deep significance from this encounter.
Sure, it was just a polar bear doing what polar bears do: living and hunting on sea ice. Maybe it caught our scent from far off and was just curious. Maybe it was looking to assert dominion over its particular range. Maybe it was looking for an easy meal. But may, just maybe, it was a messenger from the rest of its race sent to remind us that the fate of the polar bear lies in all our hands.
We attained the North Pole at 12 noon CST in a moment of, considering our morning, complete anticlimax. We took a few pictures to document the moment, then watched the GPS coordinates scroll south on the screen due to the rapid drift of ice. In a few more minutes, the Pole was completely covered in water.
All of our emotions splayed in a winding trail between here and Ellesmere Island, we stood quietly for a while, then said almost simultaneously, "Well, should we set up the tent?"
Word of the day: stewardship - please draw your own meaning.
June 30, 89 58.59'N:89 40.00'W
Day 61. The ice appeared eggshell thin as the forces of wind and current have recently fractured this area into a maze of pressured ice, leads and small pans. There was so much open water that the scent of warm (almost warm) salt water was constantly in the air.
It was a weird travel day. Overcast, foggy and damp, the terrain revealed itself slowly. We were constantly stumbling through a wall of pressured ice straight into a series of leads. At one point, small slabs were heaved in long curving arcs. In other spots, the north-northeast wind pushed slabs close enough together that we zig-zagged across several large leads.
We crossed roughly 50 or so cracks in the ice that we could span with skis and had to catamaran the sled-canoes seven or eight times to paddle across large leads. Only a few miles from the Pole, we were seeing more open water than either of us would have ever guessed.
Navigation was especially difficult today as well. We stopped to check our declination with the GPS every hour. It is much easier to navigate with a compass; however, the north 'red' end of our compass is slow to setttle. Leaving the tent we adjusted our compasses to 96 degrees west declination. By the end of the day we were at 117 degrees west.
Its difficult to put any more significance to one day versus another; however today, we tried to muster some extra emotion or meaning on this the eve of achieving the previously impossible. But 61 days of having our sled-canoes get stuck on every ice chunk between here and Ellesmere Island, skiing on thin ice, wading through deep snow and worse have left us too weary for introspection.
We are so close to the North Pole right now that if we could stand on top of the Hilleberg Hotel, we could see it - not that it would look any different from the ice and water nearby. So many times we have felt that the Pole is such an arbitrary point. What makes the ice so many miles and struggles away from here more important than the frozen chunk underneath our skis? "Absolutely nothing," crossed our minds more than once.
But we know the North Pole will be different. Each day has been so amazing and unique in its own right. We would have never guessed how much the ice could change in character and personality. The moving ice that nearly killed us, the biggest pressure ridge ever, the ice chunk that looked like Ronald Reagan, the snow drift that was blown to a paper-thin width...these small things we will keep with us forever.
To travel through the world's last great wilderness is a privilege and we feel lucky to be here. On the surface at least, the frozen Arctic seems unspoiled by human hands. It is comforting to know that places like this still exist. Remote and uninhabited. Vast beyond our wildest imaginations. We hope we have tread lightly enough.
The truth is quite the opposite. Even here, we humans have cast our influence whether we intended to or not. The sea ice is melting. Open water surrounds our camp.
Near the end of the day a gull swooped down, and determining we were inedible, flew off. A lone seal lazed on a frozen lead sunning itself in overcast skies. Every so often an ice chunk caught our attention as we passed - like so many other ice chunks have before.
Today's picture: An explorer's view of one of the many leads we paddled across today. Some were fairly small (8 feet); others involved several hundred meters of paddling.
Word of the day: carte blanche - when we are so tired the lead skier makes all route decisions with little argument from position number two.
