March 3, 2013
A long straight line
After a quick breakfast, we packed up and headed toward the southern edge (or at least the direction of it) of Lake Winnipeg in yet another whiteout. I had to laugh at myself - how many places have I been and not seen them because of bad weather?
The answer is best left unsaid.
Still, it wasn't the worst conditions I've ever traveled in and for the first hour or so we could still see the vague outline of an island to the west. Additionally, small pressure ridges and fractured ice slabs gave a few reference points.
Today, Iona took her first stab at polar navigation. More art than science, I generally do most of my hourly route finding with a compass and then check mileage with a DeLorme GPS or inReach. Once I've got my bearing, I simply orient my body accordingly (put red in the shed and follow fred) and then find some unique looking snowdrift in a million other snowdrifts and start sking towards it. Along the way, I'll reference the angles of snowdrifts, wind direction and even my shadow (if the weather cooperates).
Eventually, the sky cleared and we were able to relax a bit and ended up making good progress. We are now positioned far enough out that we can only see land in the far distance to the east. In every other direction ice and snow stretches to the horizon. Even more than Antarctica - with its undulating terrain - this place feels so desolate. And after the wind died, so amazingly quiet too.
Iona was a quick study and as the day progressed so did her skill. For nearly an hour, I watched her tracks cut steadily south. For the first time in a while, I was able to relax and enjoy the feel of my skis and pull of my pulk (sled).
After dinner, I walked outside and looked up at the night sky - the big dipper, orion, casseopia - stretched across the horizon. I wanted to stay out longer and wait for northern lights but it was cold, I was tired and my sleeping bag was calling.
Image: Iona's reflection in my Optic Nerve goggles!
The answer is best left unsaid.
Still, it wasn't the worst conditions I've ever traveled in and for the first hour or so we could still see the vague outline of an island to the west. Additionally, small pressure ridges and fractured ice slabs gave a few reference points.
Today, Iona took her first stab at polar navigation. More art than science, I generally do most of my hourly route finding with a compass and then check mileage with a DeLorme GPS or inReach. Once I've got my bearing, I simply orient my body accordingly (put red in the shed and follow fred) and then find some unique looking snowdrift in a million other snowdrifts and start sking towards it. Along the way, I'll reference the angles of snowdrifts, wind direction and even my shadow (if the weather cooperates).
Eventually, the sky cleared and we were able to relax a bit and ended up making good progress. We are now positioned far enough out that we can only see land in the far distance to the east. In every other direction ice and snow stretches to the horizon. Even more than Antarctica - with its undulating terrain - this place feels so desolate. And after the wind died, so amazingly quiet too.
Iona was a quick study and as the day progressed so did her skill. For nearly an hour, I watched her tracks cut steadily south. For the first time in a while, I was able to relax and enjoy the feel of my skis and pull of my pulk (sled).
After dinner, I walked outside and looked up at the night sky - the big dipper, orion, casseopia - stretched across the horizon. I wanted to stay out longer and wait for northern lights but it was cold, I was tired and my sleeping bag was calling.
Image: Iona's reflection in my Optic Nerve goggles!