I'm in it now and as much as my mind has been denying the fact, I am slowly beginning to accept my self imposed fate (the exact opposite definition of fate of course) of a rigorous life in Antarctica.

It's not easy here and the weather hasn't given me any breaks. This afternoon was the first time in a long time where I could actually see. Which is a bit sad actually because I skied by the most visually stunning part of the Hercules route, the Patriot Hills, a line of rugged peaks running South from the edge of the continent.

I did manage a glimpse at the "three sails" three Nunataks peaking out of the ice cap a little past the Patriot Hills. Consistent with the weather pattern, my view was fleeting before blowing snow obscured my view of pretty much anything but the gray sky.

I did see the round disc of the sun poke through the clouds for most of the afternoon.

I'm not exactly sure the terrain I skied over today although I believe I was climbing for a significant part of the day. I also was surprised at the sastrugi, elongated snow drifts caused by the wind. Definitely a bit more drifting than I remember from some of my previous expeditions.

Anyway, I got most of my emotional release out today. I was listening to podcasts of This American Life and there was one episode about a mother and son separated by ICE and another about a navy seal who committed suicide that were just gut wrenching and I sobbed uncontrollably in my goggles. With no other stimulus, it is almost impossible to think about the scenarios in great depth. Of course, I can't help but think about my own family as well.

But now I am in the tent and all those troubles and strain are gone forever. All that is left to do is send this blog, eat my dinner and go to sleep in the arms of Antarctica. Not a bad deal if I don't say so myself :)