Garrett other format??

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http://about.me/allenpope

http://www.twitter.com/PopePolar

Sync Zotero...

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http://www.spri.cam.ac.uk/people/pope
http://about.me/allenpope

http://www.twitter.com/PopePolar

Home Sweet Home

One final post for all our faithful readers. You will be happy to know that we're are all back where we came from: Rob is in Wellington, I'm in Cambridge (England), and Robert and Jenny are back at Harvard. 

All in all, this entire expedition has been an amazing experience. We were exposed to active research in a relevant and exciting scientific question, experienced the ambiance of scientist-filled McMurdo, were awed by the staggeringly stunning Dry Valleys, and gained valueable knowledge about just how a field expedition is run. 

Unfortunately, results from this fieldwork won't be in for months to years. But fieldwork is only part of this research - the data is what we're really looking for. And getting the data takes a lot of processing time. 

On a related note, I ran across a documentary called Ice People - our Olympus Range camp site can be seen at 0:30.

Thanks again for following the blog, and please feel free to post any last comments/questions. We had a great time, and we hope you had funr reading about it.

Christchurch Part Two and the Case of the Faking Duck

Hello to all our faithful readers. Despite the fact that we aren't in Antarctica you are still reading this blog, and for that I commend you. After one night in Christchurch, the group dispersed; Robert headed to Akaroa with an old friend, Jenny caught the first plane north that she could, and I lazed around Christchurch. Although I'm sure my day would be the one you would least like to hear (at least from first description I think it sounds the most potentially boring), I'm the one with the Internet connection. So tough luck.

It's summer down here! Yes, this was in theory known while we were in Antarctica, but when it's sunny and 29C (85F), this fact hits home a little bit better. This, of course, was part of the reason I wanted to stay in Christchurch another day before heading back to inevitably colder and drearier Boston or Cambridge. So, after walking around to pick up a sandwich, I decided it was just too hot and plopped myself down in Victoria Square Park in central Christchurch. Jenny so kindly left behind Bill Bryson's "In a Sunburned Country" for me, so I amused myself with that. Yes, it is about Australia, but I'll call it close enough. I would recommend the book to anybody who wants to go to Australia, and if you didn't already it will make you want to roadtrip the Outback.

As I was sitting in the park I pulled out my tasty chicken sandwich lunch. Within minutes a couple ducks came waddling over to beg off some crumbs. I (being infintely charitable) shooed them away. A couple minutes later another duck came over - this one was limping though, in an even-more-awkward-than-normal-duck-waddle sort of way. I almost felt sorry for it and gave it a piece of bread, but I stuck to my principles and enjoyed the sandwich myself. And as it saw me put the last morsel in my own mouth, it waddled away. Yes, waddled. It had been faking a limp for sympathy and a crust of bread. I tell you, these ducks are going to take over the city soon.

I know what you're thinking: After such a momentous lunch, how can the day get any better? Well, there was a lot more reading in the park and then dinner and drinks with some other friendly grad students who just got off the Ice as well and one of their Kiwi friends. Although it would be nice to have more R&R time in Christchurch, it's time to come home. See you all soon!

The Ungone

Allen, Robert, and I are all set to fly back to New Zealand tomorrow morning at 6:30 am. We've cleaned up and returned our gear, boxed and banded the rest of our samples, vacuumed our rooms, and packed our bags. We've even gone through "bag drag," the process in which we haul our stuff up to the cargo area and get everything weighed and checked in. Now that we've bag dragged, we've entered a state of being referred to by Robert as "the Ungone." Having only access to the contents of our carry on bag, we'll wander around McMurdo with nothing to do until we board our plane- this state doesn't last long if the weather holds until take off, but after a few days of delay the Ungone do begin to resemble zombies... or so I'm told.

In between all of our departure preparations, Allen and I have found a few opportunities to enjoy Antarctica while we still can (and frolic in the lovely summer weather we've been having). Yesterday we rented skis and headed back to Castle Rock to hike to the top. Though the snow was a little crunchy beneath our skis, the climb was pleasant and the clear sky provided an excellent view of Mt. Erebus.

The approach trail to Castle Rock with a steamy Mt. Erebus in the background

Going up Castle Rock (behind Allen is the sea ice)

Today, after banding 21 rocks boxes into a large wooden cube and returning our last item (a drill) to the BFC, we headed out again- this time to hike up Observation Hill. The weather was so warm today (~41 degrees F) that we had to strip down to short sleeves by the time we made it to the top.

With the weight of all the boxes and pallet included, this cube of samples weighs ~1490 lbs

Antarctica, Shmantarctica - it's not that cold here...
(Disclaimer: Antarctica IS cold in places like South Pole and the top of Mt. Erebus. Our friends who were up on Erebus said that -20 degrees C was a good day for them)

A view of Scott Base from the top of Observation Hill

McMurdo Station (or part of it) as observed from the top of Observation Hill

The Return of LIDAR

Our hearty quartet has been reduced to a mere band of 3 as Rob the mountaineer left Antarctica yesterday evening to go back to work in a land where energy is consumed to keep frozen foods cold and people are expected to change their clothes on a 24 hour cycle (it's a harsh world). In tribute to our kiwi friend, I encourage you to read this article describing one example of New Zealand's technological dominance over the US that Rob brought to our attention.

In other news, we went back to Sessrumnir Valley to get some more LIDAR data with Marianne today and while she was doing her scans Robert, Allen, and I went off to collect yet more rock samples. Although the weather was colder than it's been recently (dropped down to -8 degrees C), it was great to be back out in the field- if only for a few hours.

Plus, the helicopter trips between McMurdo and Sessrumnir Valley provided yet more fantastic views:

The LIDAR machine

The ice ponds at the bottom of the pothole features have increased in size since we were last in Sessrumnir Valley due to the additional melt water from the warm temperatures. Allen, perhaps lost without Rob's guidance, felt compelled to slide across the slippery ice on his belly.

Cold base glaciers creep into Taylor Valley

Geology by color: light brown = sandstone, dark brown = dolerite, white = snow/ice

Skua's eye view of Sessrumnir Valley

Happy New Year!

Although it might not be 2009 in Boston yet, it is in Antarctica. We celebrated (like everybody else in McMurdo) with the annual Icestock concert. There was a wide range of bands, from rock to bluegrass. But the midnight favorite that got the entire crowd dancing (yes, Robert and Rob too) and counting down in the frigid sunshine was a funk cover band called Porn Spill.

Just before midnight, Father Time interrupts the band to pass responsibility onto Baby New Year

Not too much else exciting going on down here. We've started sorting and cleaning gear and packing up samples to ship back to Harvard. Since everything is closed here today, we took a hike to see the Discovery Hut and a nearby ridge.

Looking out at the Trans Antarctic Mountains across the thinning sea ice

A LIVING Weddell Seal lounges on the sea ice (the first living non-skua-non-algae wildlife we've seen in Antarctica)

Discovery Hut - alas, we couldn't go inside without a guide

For all those dying to know about the poll...Drumroll please....around 320 samples was the final count! So congratulations to those who voted for 300-399. Ask Jenny about your prize. And of course, vote in our newest poll.

And in case you were wondering, the newest Blog header is from Sessrumnir Valley, home of our first camp and also where we'll be heading for a daytrip on Saturday.

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.