First off, I apologize for getting this weblog up so late. I've been more than a little distracted by the sheer abundance of activities that occur on a daily basis around the station. But alas, I have built this to a point worthy of viewing and present you Mark and Karen's web log about our 2004/2005 Austral Summer Deployment to McMurdo Station, Antarctica, or 'MacTown' for short. Before I forget: Photos can be accessed by clicking on the links in the left margin under 'Photo Galleries'.

Lets catch up, shall we? This is a long entry, so get comfortable.

I could go into my flights down and the first few days that were spent in Christchurch, New Zealand, but to be honest, I'd prefer to cut to Antarctica. Don't get me wrong, New Zealand is beautiful and in the 2 days I was there I could definitely see myself moving there, but plans are in place to spend a couple months in New Zealand after we get off the Ice, so I'll expand on NZ then.

Before we flew to McMurdo, we had to get equipped with all of our extreme cold weather (ECW) gear (in Christchurch), which really made me feel like I was actually going through with this whole 'living in Antarctica' thing. We were each provided about 15-30 lbs of ECW gear, depending on what kind of job we had or if we were headed to South Pole Station or not. It ranged from multiple sets of heavy long johns, to several sets of gloves/mittens, to fleece layers, to Big Red (the nickname for the huge parka that is provided), to 4 hats of varying style, to some giant, white, water-proof bunny boots that could probably be sold under the Neil Armstrong line of space clothing.

The weight of the plane, carrying both people and cargo, had to be carefully calculated as to not exceed capacity. We were only allowed to take 75lbs plus whatever we were wearing. Unfortunately we had to wear our ECW gear on the flight in case we had to bail out somewhere along the way. Good news is it freed up room for other things in our baggage, like my bowling ball collection. More on the plane ride and the ridiculous idea of bailing out somewhere in Antarctica in a bit.

Karen arrived safely into McMurdo Station on Oct. 9th. Her group made an attempt on Oct. 5th, however, as with all flights into McMurdo there is a judgment call at the PSR (point of safe return) as to whether it is safe to land. The PSR is the point in the flight where the plane can safely turn around and still have enough fuel to return to Christchurch. Once beyond that point, whether it lands or it crashes, that plane is ending up in Antarctica. A 'Boomerang' is slang for when a plane does have to turn around and return to New Zealand due to weather, a penguin sit-in, scientist ice capades, or in Karen's case, large holes in the runway that needed to be patched up. See, the runway at McMurdo is an ice runway built on 18 feet of sea ice about 2 miles out on the Ross Sea. Because of the boomerang, Karen got to enjoy the comforts of a 7 hour flight on a military LC-141 only to end up right back in New Zealand...but don't feel too sorry for her, she did get another expense free 3 days in Cristchurch, which is a lot better than a flight that has to return to, say, Gary, Indiana. (Sorry if I offended any Gary folks, but cmon, thatcity isn't exactly paradise).

The flight down is a pretty interesting one. The LC-141 is primarily a cargo plane with transporting people as an after thought. Seating is humorous, or miserable, depending on your level of claustrophobia acceptance. The seating is a long mesh bench with seat belts. A portable emergency oxygen kit is basically your head rest, and you are knee to knee with the person across from you and shoulder to shoulder with the person on either side of you. Hopefully that person across from you is easy on the eyes, because that's what you are going to be staring at for the next 5 1/2 hours (assuming there is no boomerang). Before we left, the pilot gave us a safety briefing in the event of a crash. His initial comments focused on the fact that what he was about to say concerning an evacuation really didn't matter b/c if the crash didn't kill us, there's the 40 tons of cargo that would break out of their harnesses and come sliding forward to crush us. At this point, if we were still alive and able to make it out of the plane into the ocean, we would have roughly a minute to be proud we survived before we froze to death or got run over by an iceberg. The men all sat towards the back b/c that was where the 40 gallon drum with a hole in the top (also called the "the mens room") was found. The women were able to use a toilet in the front. The pilots handed out ear plugs, b/c the engines are so loud I couldn't even hear the voices in my head. So, let's recap. After putting on 20lbs. of cold weather clothing, I boarded a long metal tube for the better part of 5 hours during which I sat in large mesh netting, couldn't hear anything except the high decibel roar of the engines (thank God for my iPod), tried not to stare at the person immediatly across from me, and was offered no other windows to look out of than the tiny 2 port holes on either side of the plane back by the large bucket of urine with a curtain around it, excuse me, the "men's room". Oh, and if anything goes wrong with the plane, I was almost guaranteed either a fiery or very cold death. They did, however, provide a fantastic bag lunch with enough food for 2 meals (remember the boomerang possibility). The cookies were terrific. The whole thing was far from a comfortable ride, but if you were as excited to go to Antarctica as I was, the flight was like riding first class on Virgin Atlantic to a tropical island while God rubbed my temples.

Landing on the ice runway was extremely smooth. My friend, Liz, had told me the night before to remember the first steps I take off the plane because I'll never have that feeling again. Liz is a good friend of ours and works for Raytheon Polar. This is her 7th summer season down here. Liz is also responsible for playing a MAJOR role in getting Karen and I jobs. All that being said, I can't remember my first steps off the plane - must have been distracted by my iPod or something. Kidding. I remember it vividly but am choosing not to share what I was feeling at that moment. I honestly don't think Hemmingway could describe what I felt. And I's ain't no Hemmingway. I will, however, talk about what I experienced physically. Stepping off the plane, the first breaths of the Antarctic air were altogether the crispest, purest, and most shockingly cold air I've ever inhaled. It was funny, because no sooner was I breathing this incredible clean, cold air, was I then immediately smacked with this astonishing view of Mt. Erebus that took those first breaths away. Some call it choking, I like to think of it as breathtaking.

McMurdo Station itself isn't the sexiest place I have ever seen. It resembles a small mountain mining town and doesn't work to hide the hundreds of containers, fuel tanks, and other assorted industrial equipment that are essential to the survival of the station and its inhabitants. The buildings are an unimpressive dorm and warehouse style architecture with colors that range in the ever popular brown, aqua green and yellow spectrum. Where McMurdo is situated is the impressive part. It is located on Ross Island at the base of the only active volcano in Antarctica. To the West is McMurdo Sound and across the sound is a breathtaking mountain range called the Royal Society Range. To the south is the Ross Ice Shelf, and to the North is Mt Erebus (the volcano) and the Ross Sea. McMurdo's location was originally selected by Scott because it is the southernmost accessible point by ship in Antarctica - an extremely important factor when you are trying to make attempts on the South Pole back in the early 1900's. Just outside of town is Observation Hill, or Ob Hill. An easy hike to the top provides some spectacular 360 degree views (that sentence sounded like something out of a travel guide).

After landing, we were shuttled into town for a quick orientation. Karen was there waiting when I got off the shuttle. It's always a nice feeling to have someone waiting for you when you get off a shuttle in the most desolate place on earth, even better when it's your lovely girlfriend. It was at that moment that I think we both breathed a sigh of relief. We had done it. After months of uncertainty and waiting and more uncertainty and more waiting, we had both successfully made it to Antarctica. What a rollercoaster the past 8 months had been since I first presented this idea to Karen. I can remember how tough a sell she was on the idea: "Karen, I may have an opportunity to go to Antarctica for 4 months. We could probably find you a job as well. Do you want to go with me?" Karen's response after roughly 2 1/2 seconds: "Sure." As it turned out, she ended up securing a job a couple months before me. I only found out 2 weeks before I had to leave so needless to say the wait was unbearable at times.

(By the way, for anyone reading this, getting to Antarctica for a season, although difficult, is a lot more attainable than you may think. I can provide anyone with more info if interested).

I think that's about enough for now. I'll come back and expand on some of the things I touched on in this entry a little later.