April 24, 2018
I'm Back
After celebrating at the North Pole, we skied a couple of hundred meters to camp near the groups who had reached the pole just a few hours earlier. Already there were some of modern polar exploration's greats: Rune Gjeldness, Thomas Ulrich and Eric Phillips. I skied to the various camps to say hello as Neil, Vivian, Jaco and David set up our tents. We laughed easily as I swapped stories and compared route notes with the other guides. There are only a handful of people with as much Arctic Ocean experience as myself and those listed here. To be able to nod knowingly at our shared knowledge is a huge comfort for me. Too often, I feel like an outsider in the adventure community, always separate and having to explain, exactly what it is that I do. Climber, skier, accountant... those things make sense to people.
'Is there land at the North Pole?' is a question I get more than you would believe.
Because we now had reached our goal (and the weather was relatively mild - around -5 F), there was no real rush to set up camp. Instead, we reveled in slowing down and enjoying each moment in a state of relative relaxation. Nearly every day on the Arctic Ocean, these things can seem like life or death. Just eating a snack on the trail when its 30 below can be a monumental feet of survival. Equally important is the drive to keep moving North. While our schedule isn't the Bezerker-like sufferfests of my full land-to-pole expeditions, we are constantly aware of the obstacles in our path. We keep to a rigorous schedule to 'make time' before conditions change (which they inevitably do).
We spent a relaxing night in the tent and even slept in. It was sunny so the inside of the tent was warm and as usual, I turned up my headphones to drown out both Vivian and Neil's snoring so that I could fall asleep. I didn't get up until 8. It was amazing.
Rune, Thomas and Eric's team were picked up by the the Russian MI-8 helicopter first, then our team and another US-based team led by Keith Heger were shuttled back to Barneo. I stared out the window as the ice (and miles) slid by effortlessly below. I am always amazed at the transition from slow, deliberate human-powered travel versus machine. The contrast is stark.
On this year's short journey, we saw a significant number of ice bergs frozen into the pack ice. Probably coming from somewhere in Siberia, this is a new phenomenon for all of us 'old timers' who have seen the changes due to a warming climate first-hand. Clearly these bergs are able to float farther north during the summer as ice extent decreases then get frozen in as winter approaches. There is still ice on the Arctic Ocean, but I fear that these types of 'Last Degree' expeditions may only be possible for five or six more years. The logistics of landing a jet and setting up a base on sea ice will simply not be possible as ice thins and ice pans become smaller.
We landed at Barneo hoping to fly back to Longyearbyen on the awaiting Antonov. Instead, those three teams who had reached the pole ahead of us were able to board and fly back while we were treated to the Russian royal treatment - chairs and tables inside a warm dining tent. Then, dinner served by one of the Barneo workers who clearly didn't want to be serving hungry polar travels. Or was the scowl a sign of happiness? I have yet to discern the subtleties of the Russian disposition. We retired to the bunk tent a short time later, feeling now the fatigue of the trail. Inside, our two groups were blasted heat from some sort of outdoor furnace. The Russians, I have surmised, do not like to be cold when they sleep.
Somehow I ended up once again next to Neil, who if you remember from just a few short paragraphs prior, has a penchant for snoring. It's not nearly as bad as my 2014 North Pole expedition partner Ryan who I had to ask to actually stay awake for an extra 10 minutes so I could fall asleep before he starting sawing wood (at 1,000 decibels). Needless to say, it was the worst night of sleep (because of the 1,000 degree temperatures) that anyone had gotten the entire expedition and we were more than a little relieved when it was time to eat (a solemnly served) breakfast.
A few short hours later, we landed in a still snowy Longyearbyen as our Arctic journey, the focus of so much effort and commitment, reshaped itself into fond memories while we unpacked our gear.
Image: The Antonov waiting to take us back to Longyearbyen from the Barneo drift camp.
'Is there land at the North Pole?' is a question I get more than you would believe.
Because we now had reached our goal (and the weather was relatively mild - around -5 F), there was no real rush to set up camp. Instead, we reveled in slowing down and enjoying each moment in a state of relative relaxation. Nearly every day on the Arctic Ocean, these things can seem like life or death. Just eating a snack on the trail when its 30 below can be a monumental feet of survival. Equally important is the drive to keep moving North. While our schedule isn't the Bezerker-like sufferfests of my full land-to-pole expeditions, we are constantly aware of the obstacles in our path. We keep to a rigorous schedule to 'make time' before conditions change (which they inevitably do).
We spent a relaxing night in the tent and even slept in. It was sunny so the inside of the tent was warm and as usual, I turned up my headphones to drown out both Vivian and Neil's snoring so that I could fall asleep. I didn't get up until 8. It was amazing.
Rune, Thomas and Eric's team were picked up by the the Russian MI-8 helicopter first, then our team and another US-based team led by Keith Heger were shuttled back to Barneo. I stared out the window as the ice (and miles) slid by effortlessly below. I am always amazed at the transition from slow, deliberate human-powered travel versus machine. The contrast is stark.
On this year's short journey, we saw a significant number of ice bergs frozen into the pack ice. Probably coming from somewhere in Siberia, this is a new phenomenon for all of us 'old timers' who have seen the changes due to a warming climate first-hand. Clearly these bergs are able to float farther north during the summer as ice extent decreases then get frozen in as winter approaches. There is still ice on the Arctic Ocean, but I fear that these types of 'Last Degree' expeditions may only be possible for five or six more years. The logistics of landing a jet and setting up a base on sea ice will simply not be possible as ice thins and ice pans become smaller.
We landed at Barneo hoping to fly back to Longyearbyen on the awaiting Antonov. Instead, those three teams who had reached the pole ahead of us were able to board and fly back while we were treated to the Russian royal treatment - chairs and tables inside a warm dining tent. Then, dinner served by one of the Barneo workers who clearly didn't want to be serving hungry polar travels. Or was the scowl a sign of happiness? I have yet to discern the subtleties of the Russian disposition. We retired to the bunk tent a short time later, feeling now the fatigue of the trail. Inside, our two groups were blasted heat from some sort of outdoor furnace. The Russians, I have surmised, do not like to be cold when they sleep.
Somehow I ended up once again next to Neil, who if you remember from just a few short paragraphs prior, has a penchant for snoring. It's not nearly as bad as my 2014 North Pole expedition partner Ryan who I had to ask to actually stay awake for an extra 10 minutes so I could fall asleep before he starting sawing wood (at 1,000 decibels). Needless to say, it was the worst night of sleep (because of the 1,000 degree temperatures) that anyone had gotten the entire expedition and we were more than a little relieved when it was time to eat (a solemnly served) breakfast.
A few short hours later, we landed in a still snowy Longyearbyen as our Arctic journey, the focus of so much effort and commitment, reshaped itself into fond memories while we unpacked our gear.
Image: The Antonov waiting to take us back to Longyearbyen from the Barneo drift camp.