Operation Sky-Hook

We're back in McMurdo! Now we can enjoy the luxury of solid structures to sleep in, running water with which to maintain proper hygene, and an internet connection that will enable/force us to interact with the real world again. Hooray.

As it turns out, the weeks of mild Antarctic weather we've experienced served only to lure us into a false sense of security with respect to this continent of extremes. As Allen mentioned in our last post (2 posts in 1 night, internet addiction anyone?), the winds sweeping down the valley of our camp had picked up a bit since we'd left earlier in the day. Well these strong winds (the Robs estimate an upper limit of ~60 mph) held steady over the next two nights, leading to the downfall of both Allen's mountian tent and Robert's "bombproof" Scott tent. As you may recall, this meant that 50% of our initial tent population had died in the field.

The miserable carcass of a dead mountain tent

Fortunately, we were nearing the end of our field season anyway and were planning on returning to McMurdo today(Dec. 30th) anyway. But with the winds howling down the valley and ripping our shelters to shreds as they were, it seemed unlikely that a helicopter pilot would feel safe touching down long enough for us to load up camp and escape. So, with the full understanding that our departure could be cancelled at the last minute, we broke down camp and carried as much as we could about 1/4 mile down valley to a somewhat less gusty pick up site. And, in case you were curious, large duffel bags DO act as a sails in these conditions.

Once everything was packed up (or at least, everything but the last Scott tent, which we kept up just in case we'd have to stay the night), we waited outside for the signs the helicopter. Eventually we heard the distinct noise of our get away vehicle as the helo appeared over the ridge and, after confirming with the pilot that he would indeed be landing (though he wouldn't power down), we quickly took down our tent and made one last dash out to the pick up site before heading back to Mac Town.

Here are a few beauty shots of our scenic flight back to McMurdo:

Ah, nothing but rock and ice.

The blue patches represent pools of meltwater on the surface of the ice.

Oh and as for the title...

B2, I sunk your Battleship Promontory

Dec. 25th:
Merry Christmas (and happy non-Christian winter holidays as well)!
Yesterday we moved to our 3rd and final camp out below Battleship Promontory in the Convoy Range, a 40 minute helicopter flight north from our Olympus camp, but our move was not without incident. As usual, we flew out first to the new site, along with half of our gear. Upon arrival, we set up our big cook tent (remember that it’s called the Endurance), tied it down to several stakes and began to eat lunch inside. In the middle of our meal, we heard the helicopter returning with the second half of our gear (all wrapped up in a sling load) and we all went out to help as the load was dropped off. Unfortunately, the drop site was a little too close to our cook tent and the combination of rotor winds and the worn state of the tent fabric quickly caused the whole tent (including table, chairs, and food) to rip from over half of its moorings and take flight into the air. With the helo still overhead, the airborne tent dumped its contents out into the blowing winds and Robert and I ran about grabbing these smaller items while Rob and Allen took hold of the tent itself. It wasn’t until the helicopter finally flew out of the valley and we had collected everything that had escaped during the “unscheduled release” that we realized the extent of the damage to our beloved Endurance tent- the entire length of a crucial seam had ripped apart! Luckily, we had been travelling from camp to camp with an extra Scott tent (just in case) and we were able to set this up for use as our new cook tent – so camp life has not been significantly affected by our little mishap. We’re just cozier now.
In other news, to celebrate the holiday, we made ourselves a hearty breakfast and headed off for a little fun on the glacier just a few miles down valley. I never thought I’d be ice climbing on Christmas before, but what else does one do in Antarctica for the holidays?

Dec 28th:
It’s been a couple days since we’ve posted, but that’s because we’ve been hard at work. The past couple days have taken us to the top of Battleship Promontory, a beautiful location flanked by huge sandstone cliffs, a prow (as the namers of the location thought) sticking out into the sea of dolerite around and below. Sheer on the sides, one would expect the top of the promontory to be fairly flat layers of sandstone – instead the entire area is dotted with potholes sunk down up to 50 feet in places. Everywhere you turn, there are more of these features, some connecting in channels, sometimes sharing snowbanks, and often toppling debris into themselves. Many of the holes have ponds (liquid in nice weather) at their bottoms. We’ve been sampling in the bottoms, on the ridges, up the channels, and everywhere in between – even dragging up the large DGPS to measure elevation change in these features and make small 3D maps. Today, after a longish breakfast necessitated by all our extra food, we headed down the Alatna Valley, hooking around Battleship Promontory to sample all the features at its base. Again, we found a lot of potholes, and a fairly large lake right beneath the Promontory. We could even see a darkened area where liquid water was leaking down the side of the cliffs and feeding into this pond – we were stunned to see so much liquid water around! We also found part of a mummified seal; originally described by Jenny and Rob as looking like a cabbage with bones, it seems to have been fragmented and transported (really far from the coast) by the wind. Of note is the amazing weather we’ve been getting. Hovering around freezing on Christmas, 4°C (~39°F) on the 26th and 8°C (~46°F) yesterday! Even though it got back to more normal (maybe even freezing) temperatures today and we have fairly high winds this evening which made hiking home a challenge, it’s been pretty constantly sunny. Yup, it’s a harsh continent. And made so much harsher by the absolutely stunning locale – Battleship Promontory’s sheer sandstone cliffs, the two glaciers draining into Alatna Valley before us, and the Convoy Range rising behind us. Certainly, it’s a very tough life out here in the field. Trust us.

Giant Pothole at base of Battleship Promontory

Sandstone Cliff, as viewed from the bow of Battleship Promontory

Looking into Alatna Valley from the top of Battleship Promontory

Sandstone erodes in some amazing ways...

The Thing! Or a mummified seal...

Allen basks in the warmth of the Antarctic Sun

Jenny ice climbs a glacier

The Convoy Range (Battleship Promontory is on the right)

Cold based glaciers in Alatna Valley

Rob and Allen search for a good climbing spot

Sandstone cliff as viewed from the bottom

Muppet Rock (unofficial name...)

Rudolf Pulls a Helicopter

12/22/08
Another day, another daytrip. Only a short jaunt this time, we got flown down to Lake Vanda, the large lake in Wright Valley that is fed by the Onyx River. Although the surface is frozen, the edges are liquid during much of the summer, and the saline water at the bottom of the lake is almost 20°C! But we weren’t doing anything with the water. We were taking more samples around the lake to look at their exposure history and how recently they have been covered up.
For lunch we made our way to the east side of the lake where Vanda Station is located – really just a collected of three little pale green huts maintained by the Kiwis. No permanent residents, but the door was open, and so we made ourselves at home with a much-appreciated spot out of the wind.
Throughout the day, clouds up-valley threatened with a curtain of fog coming down to the valley floor and blowing snow, too. The major problem: helicopters won’t fly through clouds, and we didn’t want to be stuck in Wright Valley overnight. So we called for an early pickup and ended up at Marble Point Station for the night. Essentially a helicopter gas station, the little base has a permanent staff of three very friendly souls and many, many more people rotating through. By coincidence, one guy (Crunch) is from Woburn like Robert and the fuel-tech (Tanya) is from Atlanta like Jenny! Near base, less than a 10 minute walk away, is the terminus/ice cliff of the Wilson Piedmont Glacier in one direction, and raised beaches on the coast in the other. Skuas and algae guard the land in between.
For us, it was a great night – a warm place to sleep, a crossword puzzle to do, Yahtzee to play, delicious food cooked for us, and even a large screen to watch Crocodile Dundee on (Jenny picked the movie to go along with the book she’s reading right now). All in all, an amazing way to get stranded away from camp.

12/23/08
A sunny wake-up at Marble Point meant clear weather for us up the valley, and a bit before 10 we caught a ride home. While we were gone we ended up with another couple inches of very light powder! I know what you’re thinking – aren’t we supposed to be in the /Dry/ Valleys? Well, for one thing this is very, very dry snow. Powder like nothing you’ve ever seen. And, instead of melting, a good portion of the snow sublimates – turns from solid to gas straightaway, meaning that the ground here doesn’t often get wet. The water down in Wright Valley is mostly from a more constant supply of melt from the Glaciers flowing out of the mountains.
Around lunchtime we got a happy surprise – Santa showed up on a helicopter! Well, really his helpers did. A crowd of elf-clad McMurdo residents complete with pointy ears and red and green curly hats popped out of the helicopter and spent a bit of time with us, dropping off some fresh fruit and cookies before proceeding on to the next flight. Besides giving us a holiday visit, it is a good way to reward some great McMurdo workers by letting them see the area on a day-long helicopter tour.

Jenny at Lake Vanda, enthusiastic as always.

Allen bravely crosses the rushing water of the Onyx River as it feeds

into Lake Vanda.

Robert outside the architectural marvel that is Vanda Station.

Jenny captures a beautiful view down Wright Valley (where

the sun kept shining while the clouds crept up behind us).

Robert has a heart to heart with a (relatively new) mummified

seal we found near Vanda Station.

Marble Point hotel/gas station, known for its great hospitality.

A skua, seeming like a cross between a hawk and the fattest seagull

you’ve ever seen – what Robert calls a “magnificent bird” – defends

its territory from us. We think it was nesting.

Jenny – heroic in front of the Wilson Piedmont Glacier.

The helo rotors tend to kick up giant walls of snow when they

take off and land. This wave of snow was neat in that it didn’t

crash into us.

McMurdo’s resident elf population drops by our camp on their

biggest day of the year.

It’s a Harsh Continent

Dec. 19th
Ahoy! Yesterday we took a trip down to Clark Valley (located east of our camp about a 25 minute helicopter ride, where the Lower Wright Glacier terminates out of the frozen McMurdo Sound), which is as close to a “day at the beach” as we’ll be getting down here. In Clark Valley, we took samples to investigate the possibility of the existence of a large lake during the last glacial maximum. We also frolicked amongst the assorted rock types as the geo-inclined are wont to do (here we came across glacial deposits from Ross Island and granite bedrock in addition to the sandstone and dolerite we’ve been seeing for the past two weeks). Unfortunately, (Allen and) I got schooled by both Robert and Rob when it came to identifying a few of the more mafic minerals and may or may not have been mocked about our geological shortcomings for the rest of the day.
Later in the afternoon, we hiked over to the longest river in Antarctica – the Onyx River (really just a large stream) and waited for our helicopter by its rocky banks. Weirdly, the Onyx flows inland “up” Wright Valley and ends in Lake Vanda (this is because the lowest elevation of the valley occurs in the middle, not at the end). In addition to transporting us back to camp, our helo also dropped off a few resupply boxes full of goodies like new mittens for me, oatmeal, and 7 pounds of beef jerky (please note that this ridiculously high quantity of jerky is due to a slight miscommunication and not to an insatiable desire for dehydrated meat, although there is that, too).
Today we hiked up to the headwall of our valley in the Olympus Range and scrambled up a few various crumbling sandstone slopes to take samples along the way. The most notable aspect of our day, however, was the increased velocity with which air particles attacked us and stole our heat. Not only could we hear the wind howl past our ears, and feel its force on our faces (and sides, and backs… it kept changing direction even when we were stationary), but we could see its might by watching snow from the polar plateau fly over the ridge into our valley and then whirl about in mini-vortexes before settling to the ground. Actually, we’ve been rather lucky to get as many calm moments as we have because strong winds are the norm out in the Dry Valleys. The existence of the glaciers fed almost entirely by windblown snow is a good testament to the frequency of windy days.

Dec. 20th
Today was yet another beautiful day in the Dry Valleys. I’ve started carrying a thermometer and it held steady at -5°C all day. As we keep saying to each other, it’s a harsh continent. (Just in case the sarcasm doesn’t transmit...that was sarcastic.) The wind calmed down a bit overnight and we awoke to an eerie, but appreciated, stillness around camp. Robert, Rob, and I spent most of the day collecting samples from boulders that have fallen from the steep cliffs of Electra’s east face. Hopefully, we may be able to date a few of the major rock falls that have occurred in the past several million years by sampling the right boulders. In addition to the insight this would give us into sandstone erosion in the Olympus range, this information would perhaps also quantify the statistical risk we undertook to stand under an eroding cliff face for hours on end banging on rocks.
In other news, Allen spent most of the day wandering back and forth across the terrain with the differential GPS on his back while listening to Harry Potter on audiobook. In theory he was logging data in order to make a topo map of the large sandstone basins in the area… but I think he’s finally cracked.

Dec. 21st
Happy Solstice! Unfortunately we couldn’t fully appreciate the longest day of the year down here due in part to the fact that the sun hasn’t set in weeks and in part to the thick cloud layer that prevented the sun’s warming rays from reaching us today. I suspect that those of you currently experiencing the darkest day of the year have little sympathy for us fools, though.
In tribute to the weekend, we took the day off from sampling and instead spent our time reading, doing homework, baking brownies, and staring at the book of stereo optical illusions/magic eye that the fabulously thoughtful Su Gao (another Harvard EPS undergraduate) sent down in a package. So thanks Su and everyone else who has taken the time to send mail all the way down to Antarctica, we fully appreciate it (and hopefully our outgoing mail will get to you before we return to the States/ New Zealand).

In the foreground in Clark Glacier, with a small glacier flowing

towards it, not quite joining up. More importantly, the peak on

the left is named Mount Allen.

Rob and Robert step out into Clark Valley.

Looking West onto McMurdo Sound, Lake Brownworth in front.

The mighty Onyx River.

Jenny on the north bank of the Onyx.

The headwall of our valley - those sandstone outcrops are about

300 ft tall.

Windblown snow off the ridge and glaciers below.

I’m glad I wasn’t there when this thing fell off of Electra.

Allen, in a useful moment, using the GPS.

Camping Among the Gods

Dec. 17th:

When last you heard from us, we were looking forward to our big camp move from Sessrumir Valley to the Olympus Range. The following morning (Dec. 15th) we got up, ate breakfast, and began to break down our camp and move all of our gear down to the helipad. Unfortunately, while we labored away, the ominous clouds on the horizon caught up with us bringing low visibility and snowfall with them. As a result, our helicopter was delayed until the conditions improved - though a snow storm wouldn’t stop Bostonians from going to work it poses quite a serious threat for helicopter transport. As the hours ticked by the clouds only thickened and our move was postponed until the next day. After the official cancellation, we re-erected our tents, unpacked our stove, and waited to try it all a second time in the morning. Luckily we had left our large cook tent up.

On the 16th we awoke to clearer skies and began the process of packing up yet again. Weary of the previous day’s helicopter cancellations, we left our large cook tent standing until the very last minute (we were stuffing it in its bag just as the helicopter landed behind a large wall of rotor-blown snow). Just a brief flight across Wright Valley, one sling load, and a few hours later, we had completed setting up our new camp in the Olympus Range between the peaks Electra, Circe, and Rude Spur. We even had time for a hike in order to explore our new stomping grounds.

This morning started off with three visitors from the USAP environmental protection group. They flew in on a little A-Star helicopter to check on the eco-friendliness of our campsite (I think we passed), to interview Robert about what we were up to out here, and to film us digging a pit in an environmentally conscious way. They were a friendly bunch - they brought us a loaf of bread from McMurdo, took our mail back to town, and promised to ask the BFC to send replacement mittens when they saw the shredded state of my original pair (apparently Velcro, hammer handles and cheap wool mitts don’t mix well).

We spent the rest of our day in the usual manner (collecting rocks, taking GPS measurements, and eating). If all goes well tomorrow, we should be headed down Wright Valley for a day trip in what Robert refers to as “The Banana Belt.” Wish us luck!

Allen’s Note on the Olympus Range:
When we were in Sessrumir Valley, Robert mentioned the names of some of the peaks across Wright Valley in the Olympus Range. They have the same lithology as the Asgard Range (light colored sandstone and dark dolorites) creating sheer faces and high mesa and butte-type peaks. Now that we’re here, I’ve taken an interest in all the naming – down the range are Orestes and Cerberus which we haven’t really seen. Moving west, Jason and Hercules come next, small peaks reflecting their low status in the Pantheon. And then there are (conveniently alphabetical east to west) Aeolus, Boreas, Circe, Dido, and Electra; while we were looking at them before, we are now camped below them and hiking on their flanks (see photos). Not a bad place to be, hiking at the foot of the palaces of deities.

From Sessrumir Valley (left to right): Electra (with the

long, flat top), Dido, Circe, and Boreas.

From our Olympus Range campsite (left to right): Circe,

Boreas (low/far away), Dido, and Electra.

We don’t have many photos of Robert, so here he is in front of Circe.

Looking east from our new campsite, down Balham Valley.

Allen posing in front of Circe – I told him to look “adventurous.”

We’re movie stars now! (Dido and Electra in the background)

If you look closely, the small speck on the left side of the ridge is Allen… for scale.

Day Trippers

11 Dec - Arena Valley

We took another helicopter jaunt today – this time to Arena Valley. The flight took us south, over the Taylor Glacier, and up to the top of the valley, from where we could also see the Ferrar Glacier. After taking a few samples at the top of the valley, we spent the rest of the day walking down, stopping occasionally to take more samples. Around lunch we passed through a layer which contained a lot of features called concretions – these things erode differently than the sandstone around them making all sorts of circle shapes – bowls, plates, contact lens cases, googly eyes, and even a sarcophagus.
In our helo ride home we had two surprises – our GPS/LiDAR friend Marianne happened to be riding back to McMurdo after a couple days in the field, and we stopped at a fuel cache on the way to top up the tank. Large 55-gallon drums were deposited on a good landing site on the Taylor glacier and now helicopters don’t have to go way off course to fuel up.

12 Dec – Linnaeus Terrace

Today was another daytrip, but this time by foot. A couple miles away from camp is an area called Linnaeus Terrace, a region defined as an “Antarctic Specially Protected Area.” So, we had to get a special permit to be there. It is protected because some scientists spent a long time studying endolithic microorganisms there (although the bugs are all over the Dry Valleys – there happen to be a ton on the boulder overlooking our camp) – we saw some of the colonies where life takes hold just under a rock’s surface.
We were there to photo-document some long-term erosion experiments as well as take some samples of our own. To take the photos though, Robert had to climb up on what must be Antarctica’s, if not the world’s, largest step ladder – 15 feet of aluminum which we had to find cached on the ground somewhere in the area. It was a great day full of hiking and a good opportunity to get more views of the Wright Valley Area. However, as the day progressed our sunlight disappeared; for the first time we have low clouds and a very tiny bit of snow falling in Sessrumir Valley.

13 December – Winter Wonderland

What was a very tiny bit of snow last night turned into a couple inches overnight. When we woke up it was still snowing – and it continued off and on throughout the entire day. We seemed to be on the edge of the weather, as between snow showers we had nice bright sun (which melted/sublimated some snow) and views of some pretty impressive clouds down the valley. Visibility wasn’t good (we could see neither distant land features nor the rocks beneath us) and we wanted to finally use the pancake mix and bacon in our food supply, so today became our first rest day in a while. We got some chores and some cleaning done around camp, did some of our own personal work, and had fun cooking, too. Besides frying pan pizzas for lunch (thanks Jenny!) we baked brownies for dessert. The night finished up with a long session of playing cards and a little bit more snow.

14 December:

Today was (assuming the weather’s good tomorrow) our last full day in Sessrumir Valley and so we spent most of the day packing up the non-essentials, taking a few last samples, and entering a lot of our data into the computers (just in case). Rob, Allen, and I made a brief excursion down valley to pick up some samples we had left behind in a cache and had to spend a few minutes pulling them out of the snow and brushing them off before we stuffed them in our packs. We were even able to call our families (hi families!) back at home via our Iridium phone, which made the States seem a lot closer than half a world away.
Tomorrow we’ll have to get up a bit earlier than usual in order to take down our tents and pack up what’s left before the helicopter comes to take us across the Wright Valley to the Olympus Range where we’ll have another camp and continue our work.

Here’s the Ferrar Glacier as viewed from the top of Arena Valley.

It takes more than one shot to fully appreciate it.

Looking north down Arena Valley (the black stripe is a dolerite
sill in the sandstone).

Devonian fossils? Robert says they’re named Beaconites after
the Beacon sandstone group they are found in.

The weathered concretions make the sandstone look unearthly.

1. Can you find the “J”? I promise I didn’t put it there…

Helicopter refueling at the Taylor cache.

Unlike wet-based glaciers in North America, the margins of the

cold-based Taylor glacier creep along remaining vertical ice cliffs

without forming moraines.

On Linnaeus Terrace, Robert takes pictures of a 26 year old project
from the biggest step ladder I’ve ever seen.

Our campsite covered in snow. Does it look more like Antarctica now?