Paco Pad recovery and Fryxell attack at Dawn

Today was rather exciting. Flow was dismal and wet or I guess I found out that my boots aren't waterproof. We started out by flying from Lake Hoare to Bonney lake to guage Priscu and Lawson streams. After being picked up we checked out Bonney camp and noticed that all of their tents had been destroyed in the winds from the last couple of days. Our pilot noticed that one of their sleeping pads was blown across the lake. They had forgot about it while fixing and retrieving their tents. After a brief discussion on proper sleeping pad storage, and how not to lose a Paco Pad (found on the internet here) we landed to grab the pad and return it to them. Oh what a gale must have blown in and taken us back to our F6 base just in time before we could phone the Limno team to let them know about our confiscation of ill kept material. For those who don't know what a paco pad is, all I can say is that it is a 200 dollar cloud of a camping pad. Imagine a crate of baby penguins being smothered by a pallet of baby geese all topped off by a barrel of baby rabbits. Then jump on top and fall asleep. This does not even come close to painting the picture of how comfortable these pads are. This is not the reason however for our commandeering of the pad. It was the wind.

As far as camp Fryxell across the lake from us is concerned. It is all out war. They have stolen our ATV for the last time. We attack at dawn when the sun is at about where it is all day...And they have our juice boxes and beer that was accidentally delivered there....

Is it Chet Atkins outside? Or just windy and warm?

The last 2 days have seen winds known as the Katabatics. These winds are liquid forces to be joked about. 2 nights ago they started at 3am. I did not sleep until early this morning. All through the night they whistle, howl, then scream. Then more screaming. My tent makers also decided it would be a great idea to put subwoofers on the side of my tent. Some sort of foot wide vent on both sides reverberates in a fashion that resembles shooting a gun in a racquetball court. After I tried my hardest all night to hold my tent down and have it not blow away, the wind slowed down about the time I needed to catch a helicopter. In the Helo we went to the Wright valley, and were traveling 60 knots on the ground, but our wind speed was over 120 knots. After we had flown far enough and determined we could not fly any farther, we turned around and made it back to where we started in less than half the time.

We are now at Lake Hoare for a saturday night dance party on the beach. I forgot to mention that these katabatic winds come from the continent. You would think these winds would be cold. They are however extremely warm due to the friction encountered when wind is traveling at that high of a velocity. The streams are raging, and waterfalls...well falling off of glaciers. The temperature outside right now is around 9 degrees C, Or for those metric deficient that is about 50 degrees F. Hotter than most of the US. Suckers! It reminds me of Wyoming in the late spring or early fall where the winds are as constant as Pi, and warm as a fresh egg. This beach however is radiating enough warmth to run around and get a tan, or sunburn as antarctica is lacking in a thing called an ozone layer.

Also just got a call from some people staying at our camp tonight and said last night one of our tents blew away from the 12 steaks, and at least 30 rocks piled on and tied down to it. Joys of tent building...

Let it flow, Let it flow, Let it Flow!!!

Today or rather tonight marked the beginning of Von Guerrard stream flow! We first hiked to lost seal to guage the stream when we had planned on it being at its highest flow. We got to a giant pool overflowing the control and flowing fast! On our way back after breaking through the ice multiple times on the lake (Near the edges the ice is about 1/2" thick and about a foot deep) we came to a VG that was flowing steady! Right next to my tent I now have a rippling stream to place upon my ears a sweet sound of sleep. Goodnight Irene

Blood Falls. Google it

Lawson emptying into Lake Bonney with the EXSTREAM team

The great flood of 2010 of Lawson creek!

Pancakes above the valley

Lost Seal stream overflowing the control!!! We have flow!

Not a bad night of sleep next to a creek in Antarctica

Canada Stream. The Topaz of the valley

Canada glacier with the EXSTREAM team

Canada glacier with little waterfalls flowing into lake Fryxell

Guaging with PFD's...Silly Government

How do you whip eggs in Antarctica? Chad and Drill...

Rain On My Mind

 

 

What I feel Most of the time

Rain on my mind

Been shrouded in wind since I could remember to listen. So far away, yet something always on the mind. Georgia? Alaska? Utah? Delaware??? Today though is different. There are still dogs running around, but this time they are soaking wet. On a break from life, searching for a tunnel through the ice as old as Jesus, a pitter patter appears. Although at first it goes unnoticed by pent up something being let out on freestanding stalactites of icicles. A bright turquoise lake forms to the stern of the glacier. It is rising! Mass balance would explain the rise, but this topic is,  for once put to the hidden depths of my brain where how to solve a Rubik cube and images of my mouth oral surgeries are stored.

It now takes on a form of a slight drizzle before the bulk of the thunderheads. That is when I notice and apprehend my consciousness and steer my attention towards the melting glacier posing as anything far from ostentatious. Succumbing to the drips was easy. Leaving was not.

I sat for what seemed a lifetime and a good one at that, mesmerized and lulled into a tranquil dream that reminded me of my cousins house in Oregon. Looking out the window, feeling warmth from the house. Again taken by the harshness outside yet yearning again for the brute eye to return. This glacier was only audible to those who wished to listen, and sounded like the drips outside that window after the main force of the storm had passed leaving only remnants who were too slow or small to escape that terminal velocity to fall gently but rhythmically onto little puddles created by its predecessors. It is this dream that fills me with ecstasy and warmth as it is now warm enough to dawn the outer epidermis in all its flesh. This peace is then broken on the way back by the stampeding roar of a stream not flowing an hour prior, rushing with all fury of hell past the gauge box. Stream flow has begun.....

I posted a video here of the glacier, but you have to listen closely to hear the drips and stream.

Mt. Falconer

High hills and ventifacts abound in this wind scarred land. Scree on permafrost holds like ball bearings on a glass window. Mt. Falconer is a mid rising giant littered with globular rocks. These melting, oozing, dripping rocks make me wonder if God enjoys fungi of the psilocybin variety, or had bad mexican food the night before.

Icy sand island on Fryxell

The approach

Cave #1887

ventifacts on the side of falconer

looking up at the sun

Cobra Ventifact!!!!

Some Scale

Weather moving in. No lightning however in Antarctica!

Looking West upvalley at Canada glacier

East Fryxell lake with our camp F6 at the bottom of the middle left stream

West Fryxell and Canada glacier

The "Falcon" or chicken as it actually appears.

Some prehistoric bird also known as DRAGON

Leaving the dragons lair

Gods nightmare

My nightmare...the descent...

The Descent from the safe bottom...

Falconer the high point in the middle

Dogs, Frogs, and Spidermobiles

As I sit still digesting the feast from thanksgiving, I hallucinate. To begin, yesterday was a typical American thanksgiving. By this I mean I ate 3 plates full of turkey, stuffing, pie, pecan things and stuff. And enough wine to replenish Jesus. The problem started with being satiated halfway through plate 1. The rest was just to prove to the "Lameno" team that the EXSTREAM team will never falter with food, sled races, or information gathering. After this tangent I rewind to the hallucinations. I go to bed at midnight and my tent is lit up like the rebirth of Mufasa in a blaze orange zoo. I try to imagine the last 50 pages of stranger in a strange land, but I myself am a stranger in a strange land. To be stranger though may be a stretch because stranger to the veterans may be true, but to this landscape I am not. So Stranger in a local valley is more appropriate. The land here contrasts the sky and the zenith is always bright blue. In my tent as I am off in Steven land, aside from the glacier creaking and knocking at my tent door, I occasionally here dogs panting. I wake to see a shadow crawling between my tent and its fly. A Spider! Being here will quell any and all forms of arachnophobia. To see a creepy crawly eight baby blued shadow crawling over you at first excites fear, but at this moment there was nothing more than exciting excitement. Another living creature! This eight legged freak however was a freak of my imagination and subconscious projecting a desire although desire may be too strong a word. Of course there is algae, single celled diatoms, and bacteria everywhere. Something you can perceive to react to your poking it is something forlorn and strange.
For Thanksgiving we had about 15 people gather around and write a sentence down on separate pieces of paper. Passing the paper to the person next to you they draw a picture of their interpretation of the sentence then fold the sentence over so it is hidden. Passing the paper again, the next tries to decipher the picture, and write a sentence describing it. This goes on and on until both sides of the paper are full. The majority of the sentences/pictures were related to dogs. I saw a stick figure and I thought it was a person thinking about a dog. A sentence read the not so quick brown fox attempted to jump the fence, and I drew a picture of a dog biting its tail. A house was on fire, and below was written the dogs escaped from the burning house.
Back at the Kiwi base they had pictures of every winter over group since the 70's. Until the late 80's every picture included a dog handler encompassed by canines. Thats right! There were 10 people that wintered over and about 8 dogs to play frisbee with. In the movie "The Thing" However the dogs are the reason for the groups demise. This movie is false and should never be taken literally. If this were based on a true story, it would be more similar to "To build a fire". The man would try to eat the dog, but then the dog would be like "WTF Mate!" and run away and live with the wolves.
"Daugs" is the the punch line of this telling. Dogs. The internet is a hindrance on all productivity when images of dogs are displayed. It should be banned and we should learn to live without. Ignorance is bliss and if there are no dogs on this planet (At least for the next 3 months) I will sleep much better. I steal away when people start talking about their puppies, but then like a moth to light, I am struck by the shrapnel of sight.
Beauty is everywhere. This place is everything. Yet the slight lack of movement aside from clouds can sometimes remind you of dogs left behind.

And this is only week 2

Noodle Bomber

On a random Sunday, as Sunday still means the weekend, but rather a weekend on a ranch. See there are still chores to be done. There are still samples to filter. There are still streams to guage. Nothing stops for you. In fact I just found out the other day that revolutions of the universe don't actually occur around myself. Actually the universe doesn't even revolve anywhere near me, if at all. Regardless of meaningful tasks designated to keep me sane, clean, and busy I found time to take a walk about with Matt who came out the the Dry Valleys to assist in ExxStream Team Work! We found ourselves overzealous at first to attempt a mountain that is over 8 hours away in looking back would have put me down for a couple of days, but hey in the words of some famous person. I got shit ta do! Noodle Bomber, or NussBaum as the people who inhabit these valleys actually refer to it as was a long ridge a couple of miles long? Distance means nothing here. Time has some weight behind it, but essentially that is only to determine meeting times, and occasional sanity checks. Although the time differential felt in the valleys may also make one insane. As I am going slightly. This is only week 1. Ha. Where was I? Noodle Bomber! Oh and I took this video.

The little ice chunk that could

BrAiNs!

The little seal that could, then didn't half way up the hill

The Moon of Noodle Bomber

Matt on Noodle Bomber

Taylor Glacier with Frris hills above. Beautiful plateaus

Fryxell on the bottom left with the ocean and Ross island

1882 and the matterhorn

Ventifacts

In a cavernous ventifact

Yep.

Top of Nosebaum ridge.